Dora Lin found a few books in the room. After a brief moment of contemplation, she decided to pack them into her bag as well. They didn't take up much space. Books might not seem essential, but they held a certain value. The difference between merely "living" and truly having a "life" is just a single letter, yet it's a chasm that spans the disaster and the decades that followed. She was striving to live fully, not just survive.
By now, most of the useful items in the room had been taken. Dora Lin glanced back and, after a moment's hesitation, picked up the guitar that Alex White had strummed earlier. She decided to take it with her; if there was room in the car, it wouldn't be a burden, and if there wasn't, she could always toss it aside. Scavenging trips didn't always yield a full haul, but in just three days, they had already gathered quite a bit. Maybe Alex White wasn't so unlucky after all?
Outside, the leaves of the tall trees rustled gently in the breeze. The two diligent scavengers made their way through Building 13 of the Happy Home complex, descending floor by floor. Occasionally, they came across ancient bones or decaying zombies trapped in the rooms. Now wasn't exactly the best time, but it wasn't the worst either; if another ten years passed, there might not be so many old zombies left in the city. But by then, it would have turned into an animal haven. The once-manicured greenery of the city had turned wild, with plants overrunning the towering buildings.
Each section of the building had two elevators and four apartments per floor, connected by a corridor that led to other sections, totaling twelve apartments. Some apartments had left their windows open, making them uninhabitable. Dora Lin had been busy for a long time, but in the end, she didn't find the honey she had been longing for, nor did she find any tasty, filling canned food. However, she unexpectedly came across a lot of sugar, which was satisfying enough. In the apocalypse, something sweet to eat could really lift one's spirits.
Dora Lin moved everything to another empty room, gathering it all together. She wiped the sweat from her brow. After days of scavenging on the road, both of them were covered in dust, their faces streaked with gray and black. Alex White was quite worried about smelling like a corpse, feeling uncomfortable all over.
"Here are the candles and tools. Over here is the crate of wine, and in that box over there is the salt..." A messy pile of items lay scattered around, already quite a lot. Besides the essentials like salt, wine, and sugar, the rest were items they could live without but would make life much more convenient if they had them.
Some high-quality towels and ropes that still seemed usable were also stuffed into his bag, and he even considered taking a few thick winter clothes. Alex White surveyed the pile, but his attention was quickly drawn to Dora Lin standing by the window, gazing out at the distance. He moved closer; the outer wall and windows were shrouded by overgrown plants, dimming the light, but he could just make out a thin column of smoke rising between the distant buildings.
"Are there other people—scavengers?" Alex White estimated the distance, realizing it wasn't very close.
"Hmm," Dora Lin nodded. Zombies don't make fires, nor do animals. Only surviving humans can control the dangerous flames.
"Zombies won't track people by smoke, and neither will animals. Only humans do," Dora Lin mused after a moment. "It's probably that group. Usually, lone survivors like us wouldn't start a fire in the city. Only a team would do something like that, not afraid of attracting others."
She recalled the note they had seen upon entering the city and added, "They were also looking for other survivors."
Alex White looked at Dora Lin. It was clear she had no intention of getting involved, and for him, sticking with Dora Lin seemed a much safer bet than joining some unknown group of survivors. If they approached, they might even get shot by someone unwilling to share.
"That's about it," Dora Lin said, glancing at the pile of tools and food. "We'll head back tomorrow."
"Weren't you also supposed to bring something for... who was it again?"
"Aunt Jones. I've already found it," Dora Lin replied.
"What was it?"
"Some old things, nothing particularly useful." Dora Lin searched the room again, gathering up the photos scattered around, preparing to take them back for her. It was just something she was doing on the side.
She rummaged through the cabinets once more and pulled out a stack of papers.
"Did she have a child?" Alex White noticed they were old prenatal check-up records.
"No." Dora Lin put them back and closed the drawer.
Alex White glanced around the room. Indeed, there were no signs of children, no toys, or any traces of a child having lived there. In some of the houses they had searched earlier, there had been children's rooms and toys.
Dora Lin had long yearned to return, though Uncle Cai had scolded her, dismissing the value of the things she held dear. Holding a photograph, Dora gazed at the smiling young couple it captured.
"It's not as simple as that. People who lived before the disaster are different from us, who've never known those times. They carry a heavy weight, often struggling with depression. Some even lose their minds. Others, feeling hopeless, choose to end their lives. When I was a child, I didn't quite understand, but later, I realized it must be the overwhelming sense of disparity."
Dora raised the photograph and murmured, "Just look at how beautiful everything used to be."
The picture showed a young Aunt Jones standing on a grand bridge, wearing a sunhat and sunglasses, her head tilted as she leaned against a man.
"They lived here once, able to step out and find whatever they wanted to eat. The streets weren't crawling with zombies; they were filled with cars zipping by."
Dora let Alex glance at the photo before carefully tucking it away. Realizing how late it had become, she took out some rations, nibbled a few bites, and sipped some water.
Living in the city was something she had only heard about from her parents. Unlike now, when zombies are everywhere, the cities of the past were clean and beautiful.
Alex White noticed her face, darkened by sun and hardship, and felt a sudden urge to laugh, but he held it in.
As night fell, they divided their haul into several large bundles, preparing to transport them to the tricycle hidden along the way tomorrow. Dora then retreated to the next room to rest.
Alex White was keenly absorbing the scavenging skills needed to survive in this post-apocalyptic world.
At first, he hadn't expected to find much, but as he moved from house to house, he gradually amassed a surprising amount.
Just as Dora had predicted when they arrived, if luck was on their side, they might not need to search anywhere else. The city was vast, and this neighborhood alone could keep them busy for a long time.
After spending so much time inside the building, Alex White began to feel stifled, so he took another walk through the rooms.
Finally, as dawn broke, he dismantled the metal clothes drying pole from the balcony, secured it to the bundles, and tested its strength. It was sturdy, functioning like a makeshift yoke.
He shouldered the load, with Dora leading the way, carrying a backpack and armed with a stick and gun to clear their path. Alex White carefully descended the stairs.
As the first light of dawn touched the horizon, dew clung to the leaves of the surrounding plants. The zombies, previously hidden by the dense vegetation in the distance, began to stir, drawn by the sounds of movement.
"I told you, two people are more effective than one. If you'd come alone, how many trips would it have taken to move everything?"
"Yeah, the free meal was definitely worth it."
The smoke that lingered in the distance yesterday had dissipated, and the old zombies hidden within the dense greenery began to edge closer, drawn by the scent.
They slowly made their way to the main gate.
Dora Lin tapped a zombie with a small tuft of grass sprouting from its head with her stick.
"That little tuft of grass actually makes it look almost cute. So strange."
"Why doesn't it try to bite?" Dora gave it a light tap, barely applying any force.
"Maybe it's just too old; some of its functions might have decayed."