If Alex White hadn't been infected, Dora Lin wouldn't have given him the time of day, let alone spoken to him.
Dora Lin mulled it over seriously. There were plenty of reasons why it was natural to treat the infected differently from strangers. Take Alex White, for example. If he'd been a healthy, uninfected human, their paths would never have crossed. They wouldn't have known each other, and certainly wouldn't have had to lock each other up for safety, to prevent any accidents.
But with an infected person, the situation was surprisingly fitting, and it worked out well for both of them.
As the tricycle passed by a village, a large patch of wildflowers bloomed in the distance across the fields. Dora Lin used her stick to shove a trailing zombie away, making it fall on its rear.
"Did you go out on your own like this, too?" Alex White couldn't help but ask.
For more than twenty days after crossing over, he'd been pedaling this tricycle with another human survivor.
"Riding one-handed isn't very practical, and when you run into several zombies, it's a real hassle." Dora Lin had to admit that having two people was a lot more convenient.
With one person pedaling and the other handling the zombies, they made much faster progress than traveling alone. What they had initially estimated would take until noon to reach the town had been significantly shortened, thanks to Alex White's long legs.
Under Dora Lin's guidance, the tricycle entered the small town, which was eerily silent. Dilapidated buildings loomed overhead, their walls weathered and covered with creeping vines. A gust of wind stirred, causing an old billboard to creak loudly.
"Turn left and stop by that alley," Dora Lin instructed, jumping off the tricycle's cargo bed to scout the alley for any danger. Corners like these were the most likely spots for trouble. After confirming it was safe with her stick, she motioned for Alex White to ride in. The place looked like a large warehouse, and Dora Lin pulled open the heavy door, revealing her temporary base when she entered the town.
Inside, it wasn't as empty as one might expect. There were weapons, various tools, bicycles, and candles.
"I left you here last time," Dora Lin said.
"I don't remember," Alex White replied, shaking his head.
All he remembered was a long, bumpy journey while burning with fever, with a vague recollection of making a stop somewhere along the way.
"There's still time; maybe we can head straight into the city?" Alex White asked Dora Lin, unsure of the city's location or how much farther they had to go.
Dora Lin considered it. When she was alone, she couldn't move as fast and had to be cautious, always worried about what might happen if she were still on the road after dark.
But now, with two of them, it seemed possible to push on directly into the city. This would save them a whole day, which was crucial given her limited food supplies.
"Let's eat something first, and then we'll go," Dora Lin decided.
They took the necessary precautions. Alex White went into a small, separate room with his food, only removing his helmet once he was inside. In this environment, it was better to be with someone than to be alone. He didn't want to risk even the smallest mishap.
After resting for less than twenty minutes, they set off again on the tricycle from their temporary shelter.
"Let me try next time," Alex White said, eyeing the stick Dora Lin was holding, eager to give it a go.
"You're not scared of them anymore?" Dora Lin asked, somewhat skeptical.
"I just wasn't ready last time."
Alex White felt embarrassed—or more accurately, he felt ashamed as a member of the undead. No wonder Dora Lin had been so calm when the zombie appeared outside the wall that time.
The tricycle was back on the road, and despite its primitive design, it was incredibly practical in a world without electricity or fuel. They could carry everything they needed for the journey and load it up with supplies on the way back.
Dora Lin's legs were strong, and she pedaled with energy and clear expertise, far more adeptly than Alex White.
Alex White crouched in the cargo bed, and whenever they hit a rough patch, he would get out and push. If zombies appeared ahead, he would jump out, run forward, and whack them with the stick to clear the way for Dora Lin. If there were zombies behind them, he would handle them from the cargo bed.
As Alex White kept poking at the zombies with the stick, a wave of melancholy washed over him. After all, it was one of these creatures that had bitten him.
"These are all your subjects," Dora Lin remarked, tipping her hat with one hand.
Alex White's mood darkened even further.
What good was being the zombie king if all he ruled over were these decrepit creatures? Was he supposed to lead them in a fight against the human survivors?
As one of his "subjects" approached, Alex White jabbed it with the stick, coldly knocking it down. "There must still be a lot of survivors out there, right?"
"Maybe. A couple of years ago, I still ran into people every now and then. In the city, I even met other scavengers, but as time passed, they became rarer. I'm not sure if they died or moved on," Dora Lin said. "Most people are wary of strangers. Even if they form groups, it's usually in small teams that rarely welcome newcomers."
Alex White and Dora Lin exchanged small talk intermittently, but Alex White never let his guard down, keeping a watchful eye on their surroundings.
"Maybe they moved to one of the survivor settlements?"
"Could be," Dora Lin answered, her eyes spotting a zombie in the distance. She warned, "This one isn't as old. Put some muscle into it."
The wind kicked up dust along the highway, making it seem like they were the only living beings in this vast, empty world. The zombies they encountered were all old, frail, and dressed in tattered clothes—a haunting reminder of the world's end.
But Alex White knew that in those villages, there might still be people like Dora Lin, fighting to survive. The chaos that followed the disaster had forced many into hiding, and even years later, that habit had persisted.
"Is that why you live alone?" Alex White asked.
"I'm used to it," Dora Lin replied, her tone casual. In truth, there were many reasons, not just one.
Alex White didn't probe further, focusing instead on his task of jabbing the zombies with his stick. The tricycle creaked and groaned as it rolled down the road.
"If you get tired, I can take over pedaling."
"Hmm... okay!" Dora Lin agreed after a moment's thought, handing over the driver's seat. Taking turns would help them move faster.
Dora Lin settled into the cargo bed, holding the stick, as Alex White pedaled away with a zombie's helmet on his head. Surprisingly, it wasn't a bad feeling.
Dora Lin squinted at the seemingly endless road ahead, her body swaying gently with the tricycle's rhythm.
Scavenging in the city was a skill every survivor needed to master. Almost everything from before the disaster could still be found. If you were lucky, you might even come across some food. Once, she found a huge stash of salt—four and a half boxes—in a house that seemed ordinary enough. She had no idea why the previous owner had hoarded so much salt.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, the silhouette of Chico slowly emerged in the distance, its skyline of uneven buildings growing sharper with every passing moment.
The city resembled a massive, lifeless beast of steel and concrete, sprawled across the earth, its decaying presence casting a haunting shadow in the twilight.