Alex White's thoughts drifted back to the photo that Dora Lin had shown him at the Happiness Community. In it, a youthful Aunt Jones nestled close to a man, but no matter how hard Alex White tried, he couldn't reconcile that image with the distant figure now before him.
"All these years, you're the only zombie I've met who's been infected yet remains alive, kicking, and sane," Dora Lin said as she nudged Uncle Jones away with a gentle push of her stick.
"Did you make him limp?"
"No, he broke his own leg before he got infected, knowing the chances of survival were slim."
"…"
Alex White studied him carefully—a frail, elderly zombie with a limp, no different from the others he'd seen on the road, reduced to mere instinct.
"Does he want to live but not harm you?"
"Seems so."
Dora Lin pushed the cart again to keep Uncle Jones from trailing them. "Sometimes I think maybe one day they'll just snap out of it, like some kind of medical miracle. The brain kicks back in, adrenaline flows. Look at you—you've gradually learned to speak again, haven't you?"
Dora Lin glanced back at Uncle Jones, then at the zombie wearing a helmet as it pedaled a tricycle. "If you were the Zombie King, could you wake him up?"
Alex White was silent for a moment before replying, "I've got the potential to be the Zombie King, but I'm not one yet."
Even if he were the Zombie King, waking up these long-decayed subjects would likely be impossible.
They've been waiting far too long.
At the edge of the village, another zombie loitered, one Dora Lin called Er Dan.
"Who's that?"
"Don't know. Just wandered in from somewhere else. There are no zombies in the village, so it's easy for passersby to notice someone's living here. We just let it keep Uncle Jones company."
"But doesn't cooking expose you?"
"I only cook twice a day, sometimes just once. It's not much of a threat. If one day we find them harmed, we'll know someone's wandered nearby or something else has started attacking the zombies."
Alex White remained silent, cautiously approaching Er Dan. He wanted to know if zombies would still bite someone like him, someone infected.
It wasn't practical to test this in the city, but now was the perfect opportunity. Alex White circled behind Er Dan with his stick. The old zombie seemed unaware, still moving toward Dora Lin.
"It seems it's not attacking me," Alex White ventured. Eddie paused, as if puzzled, but after Alex White uttered a single sentence, he fell silent. The creature, half-turned, resumed its march towards Dora Lin.
"And you still claim you're not a zombie!" Dora Lin retorted.
Even the zombies didn't bite him.
With one pushing and the other pulling, they swiftly hauled the supplies back to the village, leaving Eddie to wander alone along the desolate path.
The creaking of the gate welcomed them back to the village and into the small courtyard. Alex White felt a wave of comfort, as if finally returning home. The past few days had been filled with a gnawing unease, forcing him to remain constantly on guard. It wasn't just the physical exhaustion; the mental strain had been equally draining.
"Take off your clothes," Dora Lin said after resting a while, as she picked up a water hose.
Alex White was taken aback.
"Uh... this doesn't seem appropriate. Why don't you go and pack up? I can handle this," Alex White really didn't want to strip naked and have Dora Lin hose him down. Even zombies have dignity.
"And even if you want me to die with dignity, I'm not planning on dying anytime soon."
Alex White couldn't tell if it was Dora Lin's upbringing in the apocalypse that made her so blunt, or if it was just her personality... but she certainly didn't treat him, a zombie, like a man.
Overall, it felt rather abrupt.
The water pump's operation was straightforward. Just press down on the wooden lever with some force...
Alex White suspected it was broken. He'd been pressing for a long time, but no water came out.
"I don't think I broke this thing. It's out of water," Alex White calmly observed. That was it; the well was broken.
Dora Lin shot a glance at the zombie, scooped some water from a nearby jar, and poured it into the well.
Alex White continued pressing, watching as water gushed out of the pipe, and fell into deep thought.
"Ahem, actually, I'm just not familiar with it... This thing is so old that I didn't remember at first, but I used to know how to work it," Alex White muttered, feeling that her glance just now was quite insulting.
"Mm," Dora Lin responded.
"And besides, I haven't touched this well for days. Sometimes, I see you pump water without adding any, and it just comes out."
Feeling slighted, Alex White spoke as he tightened the bedsheet he had propped up nearby, "Don't just barge in suddenly, okay? Zombies have human rights too."
After such a long time, finally taking a proper shower—having cold well water gush out of the hose and pour over his head—Alex White felt an unexpected wave of emotion. The icy water streamed down, washing away the grime from his face and body, leaving a trail of murky runoff in its wake.
"I finally feel like I'm still alive," Alex White murmured from behind the bedsheet, "I can even feel the cold."
"Be careful not to get any on your wound," Dora Lin cautioned, sitting by the tricycle, sipping the last of the sugar water they had brought back from their journey.
She couldn't shake the feeling that Alex White was teetering on the brink of death, yet here he was, full of life—practically bouncing around. It was all so strange. But, in any case, staying alive was a good thing.
The water gathered in pools, following the natural slope of the courtyard, and flowed out. Alex White finally finished his wash, changed into clean clothes, dried his hair, and stepped out from behind the bedsheet.
Seeing his zombie-like eyes, Dora Lin instinctively reached for her gun.
"It's me! What are you doing? I'm not dead yet, and you want to give me a dignified death?"
"...Just a reflex," Dora Lin replied, releasing her grip on the gun. She stared at Alex White , unsure how to treat this... person who, despite being infected, was still so full of life.
After some thought, she suggested, "Maybe you should put your helmet back on. You'll look more... human."
"The helmet's washed too," Alex White said, holding up the wet helmet to show her.
After a moment of consideration, Alex White hung the helmet up to dry and went to his familiar observation room—the shed—where he fished out a pair of sunglasses and put them on.
"Actually, this whole journey has proven that my infection is incredibly stable. Whether it's a day of travel, fighting zombies, or sleeping on a rooftop, there hasn't been the slightest sign of deterioration."
Not only had it not worsened, but it seemed to be stabilizing with each passing day.
Dora Lin reflected on how, when Alex White wore his helmet, she sometimes forgot he was an infected person.
Alex White sat under the shed, unwrapping the bandage around his arm to examine the wound where the zombie had bitten him.
It had been so dirty outside these past few days, with no conditions suitable for examining it.
"The necrosis around the wound hasn't spread; there's no abnormality, and the wound doesn't seem to be getting worse. It actually looks like it's beginning to heal, though very slowly," Alex White observed, inspecting the wound and reporting his findings to Dora Lin.
Hearing the faint trickle of water from the other side, Dora Lin, who was filthy and reeking, decided to wash herself as well.
Hearing Alex White's voice, she felt reassured and scrubbed her body with renewed vigor.
"What about the scratch?" she asked.
"Not too optimistic," Alex White admitted. "The wound seems to be inflamed. What are the symptoms of an animal infection?"
"Inflammation," Dora answered.
"..."
Alex White fell silent for a moment, then said, "Well, any wound is likely to get inflamed in this weather, especially with all the dirt and poor hygiene. Are there any other symptoms? I noticed the area around it feels a bit stiff."
"Wounds can become stiff," Dora Lin confirmed.
Alex White went quiet again.
"Good, everything seems consistent," he finally said.
After a moment, he added, "Actually... if you think about it, maybe being infected by a zombie gives me some resistance to this low-level animal infection, right? I mean, zombies came first, then somehow animals got infected by them, so this is just a lower-level mutation."
As he continued, his voice gradually faded.
Dora Lin finished washing, changed into loose-fitting clothes, and sat in the shade on the doorstep, her eyes fixed on the zombie under the shed.
"Give me a hand," Alex White called out.
"You could go out with dignity," Dora Lin suggested.