When did Mother leave?
Dora Lin closed her eyes, trying to recall, but the memories had inexplicably blurred. It was as if they belonged to both a distant past and just a few days ago. The daily monotony dulled her sense of time. She could vividly recall the last time she ate locust flowers, which was last spring, but most events between then and now were a haze.
It felt as if those months had either been skipped or compressed; every day was so alike that her brain had merged them into one. She remembered the cold of winter but couldn't recall how she had endured it.
As dawn approached, she noticed the zombie outside was restless. "Small White, what are you doing?" Dora Lin emerged to find him not merely restless but actively jumping up and down. She couldn't make sense of it and asked with a puzzled expression.
She had assumed there was danger, similar to the day zombies were outside the wall, making Alex White seem urgent. She also thought his infection might have worsened, causing him to lose consciousness and become wild like a beast. But now, he didn't seem like that at all.
"Exercising," Alex White stopped his calisthenics and glanced at Dora Lin, who was wrapped in a coat, with her gun now lowered.
"Safe," Alex White reassured.
Dora Lin looked at him curiously.
"Calisthenics," Alex White said, a bit perplexed. "You don't know it?"
Dora Lin shook her head. "Never seen it."
Alex White was even more puzzled. Based on his previous estimates, if this were the late 70s apocalypse, calisthenics should have been all the rage. As a widespread physical activity, it required no equipment and could be done in limited spaces.
It was a significant fitness activity for the masses, with scenes of a million people doing calisthenics together.
"What's the time now?" Alex White thought for a moment and asked, his expression turning more serious.
"Around six," Dora Lin looked at the sky; the sun hadn't risen yet, so maybe it wasn't even six.
Alex White paused, "And what year?"
"Who knows," Dora Lin replied.
Dora Lin walked back into the house nonchalantly, put down her gun, and changed her clothes. She paused when she saw a family photo on the table, suddenly remembering that a long, long time ago, her family used to mention an animal-related way of counting years. They said she was a dog—or rather, that she was born in the Year of the Dog. But those memories were so jumbled; she couldn't tell if it was true. If she encountered a mutated dog outside, she'd just shoot it.
After dressing, she went out and found Alex White no longer exercising but sitting on the ground, flipping through a book. Alex White realized he'd overlooked the fact that books usually have a publication date printed in the corner. Perhaps due to the infection, he had been so anxious about becoming normal that he'd ignored such details.
"Encyclopedia of Knowledge," first edition, February 2012, sixth printing, January 2014.
The printing date didn't represent the current time, as the book was very old, with yellowed pages. Alex White stared blankly for a long time, looking at the shabby pedal tricycle in the yard and the barely functional water pump.
He recalled more memories, like the time when he had just been bitten by a zombie. The street was littered with abandoned cars, covered in thick dust, with weeds poking out of the windows.
Dora Lin was pumping the water, and as it gushed out, she washed her face. She didn't understand why Alex White was in a daze.
"Fascinating," Alex White said. This world was so strange.
"Yes, you're fascinating," Dora Lin replied as she carefully squeezed toothpaste onto her brush, using just a tiny bit.
Alex White fell silent. He still couldn't speak fluently, and when he got anxious, it became even harder. The difficulty in speaking made him more irritable. He figured he'd understand everything once he recovered.
"Does exercising help?"
After brushing her teeth, Dora Lin noticed Alex White still sitting there. She thought for a moment and asked.
"Yes," Alex White came back to his senses, removed his dental brace, and picked up his toothbrush. He was still undergoing treatment.
His limbs were stiff, pain sensitivity was dulled, speech was jumbled, and aggression had increased. He also felt an urge to drool over Dora Lin.
Dora Lin didn't bring her gun when she went out; she wanted to rest today. Even while resting, she didn't remain idle. She sat on the doorstep, carefully wiping her old shotgun with a cloth, checking its parts.
Out of the corner of her eye, Dora Lin saw Alex White sniffing at his arm. He had changed out of his old, tattered clothes and into the ones Dora brought back yesterday, which fit him fairly well.
"No smell. Clean," Alex murmured to himself. He wasn't sniffing his clothes but rather trying to detect if his own body had the same rotten odor that other zombies had. To his relief, there was no noticeable smell. He wondered whether the stench came from the infection or simply from decaying over time. With regular bathing and changing clothes, Alex couldn't detect any unpleasant odors from himself, suggesting that his infection was under control.
Alex stared at the basin, hesitating whether to look at his reflection. He feared that his face might have turned into something monstrous, like the zombies in the movies he used to watch, grotesque and terrifying. His vision was slightly blurry, indicating that his eyes might have changed.
After a long pause, Alex finally approached the basin. He covered his face with his hands, then slowly removed them, revealing his chin first. It looked relatively normal, though his lips were a bit pale, likely from weakness. As he revealed more of his face, his anxiety grew.
"Are you sure you want to look?" Dora noticed his cautious movements and asked.
The question made Alex's heart sink. He felt Dora wasn't being mean; she just wanted to prepare him.
"I have to," he replied.
He had to face it eventually. Taking a deep breath, Alex revealed his eyes. His heart sank and lifted simultaneously, leaving him with mixed feelings. He wasn't sure whether to be sad or relieved.
It wasn't as bad as he had feared. He had imagined zombies with only whites of their eyes showing, eyes bulging out, terrifying even in daylight. Fortunately, he hadn't reached that stage.
Still, there were changes. Alex gazed at his reflection in the water, the light shimmering on the surface. His eyes were lifeless, lacking the spark of a living being. They looked dead, with bloodshot veins running through the whites, making his entire eyes appear red, even his pupils had a faint reddish tint.
"You've improved a lot. Just a few days ago, you were rolling your eyes and couldn't even speak..." Dora Lin sat on the doorstep, her voice trailing off as she tilted her head.
It's already a miracle that he can talk after being infected; expecting more would be unreasonable.
Alex White remained silent, staring down at the water basin.
Alright.
Time for some eye exercises.