Alex White felt a jolt of surprise and instinctively wanted to find a mirror to check his reflection.
"In the wild, zombies exposed to the elements usually deteriorate into little more than skin and bones within a decade, rotting away until they resemble nothing more than skeletal figures, no longer a threat. Those in the city fare slightly better, but even they rarely last much longer than ten years," Dora Lin said, gesturing towards a zombie below with a small plant sprouting from its head. "But they don't have any reasoning left, unlike you, who eats, drinks, and maintains normal human habits." Dora Lin paused, considering thoughtfully, "Maybe with proper care, you could stay in better condition, different from them." Especially since, when they first get infected, the stronger they are, the shorter their shelf life.
This made sense; zombies wander aimlessly day and night, their bodies like the last embers of a dying fire, slowly burning out without any source of fuel.
It's like garlic sprouting in the kitchen; the longer the sprouts grow without soil, the faster they wither.
"You really startled me," Alex White thought, becoming more convinced that with proper care, he might even outlive humans.
Dora Lin put on her hat and took a sip of water.
At first, the surviving humans were gripped by fear, but they gradually realized that as long as they held on and survived that initial wave of terror, they would eventually prevail, just as their ancient ancestors had against the forces of nature.
Unfortunately, this realization came too late. Over those more than ten years, too many lives had been lost, and victory seemed a distant hope.
Disasters are never singular; it wasn't just the zombies. There was also the breakdown of order, scarcity of food, water, medicine, and even the threat of animals. According to her family's accounts, especially during the winter when the zombie outbreak began, that was another disaster altogether.
Thankfully, things have settled down now.
"The place you're staying at used to be Aunt Jones's home in the city," Dora Lin said.
Alex White glanced back at the bedroom. He remembered the photos hanging on the wall of a young couple. To have a home in such a prime location, they must have been quite happy before the disaster.
Now, only traces of their lives remained in the house; even the bathroom and kitchen retained their former appearances.
Dora Lin ate something to keep up her strength, tied a rope around her waist, and slowly descended to the eighth floor below, where she opened a window and climbed inside.
This place once belonged to a family of three. A photo frame remained on the table, which she left untouched, only wiping away the dust and giving it a brief glance. She surveyed the room's layout and rummaged through the kitchen and cabinets for anything that might still be of use.
She knew that the original residents of this building, and perhaps the entire neighborhood, were likely never coming back. Only scavengers would visit, searching for remnants of pre-disaster supplies. But there was always the slim chance that one day, the owner of some vacant apartment might return, just like Aunt Jones had asked her to check in on her place while scavenging.
To those returning survivors, these photo frames held more value than a bag of salt, a can of coffee, or even a case of wine, because while those items could be found in many other buildings, these memories were unique to this particular home.
So she didn't destroy anything, only searching for useful supplies to take with her.
Before the disaster, most people had stored away some items, especially in neighborhoods like this one. Unlike apartment complexes with many tenants, here you could often find items like salt, wine, or honey, which don't spoil easily. If lucky, you might even come across a whole case of canned goods.
The best thing she ever tasted was canned beef—it wasn't as tough as the wild game she had caught herself, nor was it dry and stringy. The moment she opened the tin, a rich aroma filled the air.
Dora Lin secretly wished to find another case of it.
The location of the apartment determined what you might find. Rooms on the lower floors were often damp, rendering most items unusable. Sometimes, even high floors could be damp, but those not too high and not too low often had well-preserved goods, especially in well-built buildings like this one.
Alex White and Dora Lin busied themselves on the lower floors of this building.
On the seventh floor, they came across an apartment where two zombies were still trapped inside. It seemed they hadn't escaped in time back then, were infected, and had remained confined ever since.
The two zombies were locked in separate rooms, emaciated to the point where their ribs were clearly visible, their skeletal frames barely covered by a layer of skin. Alex White had finally identified the source of the noises he had heard while climbing the stairs the previous day.
"Be careful, there might be more in other apartments," Alex White warned Dora Lin.
He had spotted a corpse in the last house—not a zombie, but someone who had seemingly starved to death while hiding in their home. Twenty years had passed, and the body had long since turned to bone.
In stark contrast to the thriving greenery outside, where nature had reclaimed the building over the years, the people within had only awaited death when disaster struck. Time had frozen this place at the moment catastrophe hit, and the zombies outside had inadvertently protected it from intruders. Only after two decades, when the zombies decayed and withered away, did scavengers dare to tread on this relic.
Alex White wasn't actively searching for supplies; he hadn't found anything of value, unlike Dora Lin, who had unearthed a family first aid kit. Though the iodine had long since evaporated and the band-aids had lost their adhesive, the thermometer and safety scissors were still usable, as was a somewhat functional tourniquet.
She even stumbled upon an old salted fish in the kitchen, though it was far past being edible.
Alex White stuffed a pack of assorted candles into his bag and continued scavenging alongside Dora Lin.
"What's this?" Dora Lin asked, pulling out a strange object.
"It's called a Jump pole, I think," Alex White replied, recognizing it. "You stand on it, and you can bounce around, jumping quite high."
Dora Lin studied it for a moment and then handed it to him. "You try it."
Alex White was about to take it when he suddenly realized how absurd it would be for a zombie to use a Jump pole. Shaking his head, he declined.
"Looks like the owner of this place was really into fitness," he remarked. "There's not just a Jump pole, but dumbbells and jump ropes, too. Hopefully, the owner didn't turn into a zombie; otherwise, it would have been quite dangerous."
He then noticed Dora Lin pulling something even stranger from the bedside table. "What's that?" Alex White asked.
"It's a gag, I know," Dora Lin replied, tossing it back and shutting the drawer.
"Seems like a woman used to live here," Alex White said, feeling a bit awkward as he exited the bedroom.
Dora Lin continued her search. The wardrobe was filled with clothes, and there were two large stuffed animals. She glanced at them briefly before closing it. With nothing else of interest in the bedroom, she moved on to the kitchen.
Thrum~
Startled by a sound, Dora Lin turned to find Alex White tinkering with a guitar.
Alex White was hunched over it; the guitar had warped slightly, and the strings were loose. After tightening them, it could still produce some sound.
"You gave me a start," Dora Lin said.
Alex White chuckled. "This was a rich household; keep looking." The guitar was expensive, the kind of luxury ordinary families couldn't afford.
Dora Lin had been on the verge of saying something, but Alex White's interruption made her forget. She looked down at the sugar in her hands, her eyebrows arching playfully as she waved it in front of him.
They had found both white and brown sugar, but the brown sugar had spoiled. However, this unopened bag of white sugar was still good.
"Look at you—three rooms and not a single thing found!" Dora Lin teased, poking fun at his rotten luck as a zombie.
"If you're so capable, why don't you find an entire crate?"
Alex White had already accepted his poor fortune, bundling up various items in a bed sheet. "Maybe I should take these back to the car first? It's probably going to take two or three trips."
"Let's wait until we've got everything together. It'd be a shame if another scavenger grabbed our stuff."
"I haven't seen any signs of other people, apart from that scrap of paper. Maybe they've left," Alex White speculated, though he agreed with Dora Lin that it would be bad if someone else got their hands on their finds.
"They probably headed to the hospital. Teams like that usually have a clear goal," Dora Lin suggested, offering a more plausible theory.
Alex White nodded in agreement. "But... won't the medicine be expired by now?"
"Who knows? Maybe there's still something useful, like this can of coffee."
"It hasn't expired?"
"No idea, but if we hit a rough patch, it might just keep us going."
Besides, it didn't take up much space.