"Dinner's ready," Feng Yusheng announced, looking up just as her eyes met Shao Ming's.
Both of them quickly averted their gazes, each feeling a little embarrassed. Shao Ming wished he could crawl into a hole to escape the moment.
"Finally, food!" Lambert jumped off the train, eagerly picking up a potato from the ground and peeling it with his hands. "We haven't had a proper meal in days."
The awkwardness lingered between Shao Ming and Feng Yusheng. Shao Ming used the butt of his rifle to knock a potato closer, but when he reached for it, it was too hot to touch, and he quickly drew his hand back.
When he turned to grab a bottle of water from the truck, he accidentally knocked over a pile of food supplies.
He silently cursed himself. What's wrong with me? I've been in relationships before. Why am I acting like some clueless teenager who's never been around women?
"Pfft." Feng Yusheng couldn't help but laugh at Shao Ming's clumsy antics, covering her mouth to stifle her giggles.
"Let me help you," she offered as Shao Ming stooped to pick up the scattered potatoes.
"No, no, it's fine," Shao Ming quickly replied. "I've got it. It's no big deal."
But Feng Yusheng had already knelt beside him to help gather the items.
"Thanks," Shao Ming muttered, feeling even more embarrassed. "I'm just all thumbs today."
"Not at all," Feng Yusheng said softly. "You're amazing. You've kept us alive, haven't you?"
Meanwhile, Lambert was busy flipping through the technical manual, a half-eaten potato in one hand. To him, most of the terminology was quite familiar.
"We're unbelievably lucky, really," Lambert said, holding up a maintenance log. "This train just finished its repairs and was ready to depart. It doesn't need much work—we can take it as is."
Shao Ming stood up from the back of the truck and suggested, "Don't you think the train could use some… armor?"
Lambert thought for a moment. "You mean adding steel plates to the exterior?"
Shao Ming nodded, recalling a classic movie, Land of the Dead. While the film featured armored vehicles on highways, why couldn't they turn a train into an armored fortress on tracks?
"It's doable," Lambert agreed, "but where would we get the materials?"
Shao Ming and Feng Yusheng sat by the fire. "The workshops are connected by steel walls, right?" Shao Ming pointed out. "They don't seem very thick; maybe we could use those."
"We'd need a high-powered cutting tool," Lambert said, "but not something too bulky. A CNC machine won't cut it—literally. A handheld cutting tool would be ideal."
Shao Ming smacked his forehead. "A fire department rescue saw should work."
He pulled out his tablet and searched for "fire station."
"While we're at it, we should measure how thick these walls are," Lambert said, glancing at the metal wall behind the train. "But they don't look too thick."
Shao Ming found a nearby fire station on the map. "It's about three kilometers away, but it's in the city."
He silently praised himself for bringing along the tablet and downloading global maps.
"We could try," Lambert said. "Also, we should cover the train's side wheels."
"Here." Feng Yusheng handed Shao Ming a peeled potato. "It's not too hot now."
"Thanks," Shao Ming said, popping the potato into his mouth.
Lambert muttered to himself, "Why do I have to peel my own potatoes?"
After their meal, the three sat idly by the fire. Shao Ming propped the tablet on the truck bed, plugged it into a power bank, and started streaming a TV show.
"Are you serious?" Lambert asked, baffled. "We're watching TV now?"
"The truck has a charging port," Shao Ming explained.
Outside, the mutants had gone silent, their whereabouts unknown.
Watching the flickering images on the screen, Shao Ming thought of Li Long downloading these shows just a month ago. Now, not only were they separated by death, but also by countless miles.
He instinctively touched the pocket of his tactical vest, where the farewell letter still rested securely.
Feng Yusheng retrieved a can of fruit from the truck and shared it with the group, naturally sitting down beside Shao Ming.
"Let me see your hand," she said, taking his injured hand and unwrapping the bandage.
The wound at the base of his thumb showed signs of healing but hadn't fully closed, likely because Shao Ming had been using his injured hand to shoot and fight.
"It still needs to be wrapped," Feng Yusheng said, fetching fresh bandages.
Lambert glanced at them and shot Shao Ming a knowing look.
After watching two episodes, they each found a spot to rest. Feng Yusheng settled in the truck's backseat, Shao Ming reclined in the driver's seat, and Lambert lay on the floor of the train's cab.
Shao Ming couldn't sleep. The only sounds were the rain outside and his own restless thoughts—images of Li Long's lifeless body and the rooftop couple flashed through his mind.
A soft murmur from Feng Yusheng broke his reverie. She had turned over, murmuring faintly in her sleep.
Shao Ming got up, grabbed his jacket, and gently draped it over her.
The next day, sunlight woke Shao Ming.
He jolted upright and checked his watch. It was already 11 a.m.!
He blamed himself for tossing and turning the night before.
Lambert was tinkering with the train, while Feng Yusheng had neatly organized the supplies into the train's rear cab.
"Why didn't you wake me?" Shao Ming asked, yawning.
"You looked so peaceful," Feng Yusheng said with a smile. "I couldn't bring myself to."
As she climbed down from the train, she whispered, "Thanks for the jacket."
"I wanted to wake you," Lambert called out from the cab, sounding offended. "You snore, you know. Next time, don't sleep sitting up."
Shao Ming chuckled awkwardly and took a swig of water.
"Let's head to the fire station after lunch," he said. "See if we can find a cutting saw."
"For lunch, we'll have potato sandwiches," Feng Yusheng announced.
"It's either potatoes with biscuits or biscuits with potatoes," Lambert groaned, looking even more aggrieved.
"Be glad we have food at all," Feng Yusheng retorted. "We're running low on biscuits, though. We should scavenge for more food on the way."
"Agreed," Shao Ming said. The fact that the biscuits had lasted this long was impressive.
After another meal by the fire, Shao Ming reloaded all their firearms.
"Ammo is limited," he reminded them. "If we can use metal rods instead, let's do that." He handed shotguns to both of them.