"I'll drive you close to the parking lot," Asgi said, tossing a backpack into the SUV.
"How long will you need?" Shao Ming asked.
"Three to four hours, maybe. I'll definitely have it done by noon," Asgi replied.
"Good enough."
The SUV turned around and headed out of the woods.
"Let's go," Feng Yusheng patted Yamada Ryo on the shoulder. "They'll be fine."
"You remember the hill above the tunnel where we emerged yesterday?" Asgi asked.
Shao Ming nodded. "Of course. It was just yesterday."
"Wait there for my signal when you get to the hill," Asgi said.
Lambert interjected, "And after we move the train, how will you find us?"
"Do you have a map?" Asgi asked.
"There's one on the train," Lambert replied.
"Perfect," Asgi said. "There's a small station near the tunnel called Pion. Wait for me there. It's a minor stop, so there shouldn't be many infected. If you're hesitant to pull in, wait outside the station. I'll come find you."
Shao Ming glanced at the burly man beside him. "Calais isn't exactly a small town. Can you handle it alone?"
"That's my home. I know every street like the back of my hand," Asgi said confidently. "Besides, when I was stationed in Afghanistan, the Taliban's bullets moved faster than these zombies."
The SUV reached the hill overlooking the parking lot. Shao Ming hopped out with his sniper rifle in hand.
"Take care of my rifle, kid." Asgi revved the engine and sped off.
Lambert glanced at the hunting rifle in his hand and sighed.
"Don't worry," Shao Ming said with a smirk. "This suits your 'anti-gun' beliefs, doesn't it?"
The two climbed the hill, and soon the parking lot came into view.
The lot was just as they'd left it—filled with derailed trains and countless infected.
The zombies hadn't left, which made Shao Ming wonder if there was some difference in how the infection spread between Britain and France.
He lay prone, setting up the sniper rifle to survey the area. A quick scan revealed nothing out of the ordinary at first, but then Shao Ming noticed something unusual.
Some train cars had "insulation layers" made from clothes, blankets, and branches, as if someone—or something—had built them.
Shao Ming nudged Lambert, motioning for him to take a look through the hunting rifle's scope.
Lambert crouched down, using his elbow to steady the rifle as he scanned the lot.
"Did the zombies build that?" Lambert asked.
"I don't know," Shao Ming replied. "I didn't notice it yesterday."
"Well, you were out of it yesterday," Lambert said, shaking his head. "But could something like that have appeared overnight?"
Shao Ming went back to his scope, watching the zombies. They stood motionless, either sitting on the ground or leaning against vehicles. But who else could've built those insulating layers in the middle of a horde?
Resting zombies… The thought crossed Shao Ming's mind. He recalled biology students in England talking about it. This "resting" state seemed different from hibernation in animals, but the specifics eluded him.
Lambert shifted his rifle toward their train engine. The cabin door was wide open, surrounded by dozens of zombies.
"When we go down," Lambert began, "I'll back the train into the first switch. You handle the lever and change the track direction."
Shao Ming nodded, spotting the switch Lambert indicated through his scope.
"Once I move the train onto the right track, switch it back so I can reverse and hook up another car."
"You're going for the car in the parallel track?" Shao Ming asked.
Lambert nodded.
Shao Ming glanced through his scope at the car Lambert meant. It was designed to transport vehicles across the Channel Tunnel. Unlike enclosed train cars in China, this one was semi-open, with metal frames on either side.
"Not exactly ideal for passengers," Shao Ming commented.
"Yeah, but it can carry cars—and we need that flexibility," Lambert said.
"And where will the people sit?" Shao Ming asked.
Lambert shook his head. "The passenger cars here all have engines attached. Too risky to detach them."
Shao Ming scanned the area again and pointed at a train at the far end of the yard. "There. That one's engine is facing inward. The rear can be attached."
"You're a genius," Lambert said.
The two lay prone on the hill for hours, watching the horde. Lambert nearly fell asleep, while Shao Ming remained vigilant, observing the zombies. None of them seemed to gather more materials for the insulation. They simply sat there, heads bowed, motionless.
"I hope Asgi's okay," Shao Ming murmured.
Though they'd only met a day ago, the burly special forces veteran had left a strong impression on him. Skilled, dependable, and surprisingly good at cooking.
"If we lose him now, we might not find someone like him again," Shao Ming thought.
"He'll be fine," Lambert said, rolling over to sit up. "A war veteran on home turf? He's got this."
"Why the sudden optimism?" Shao Ming asked. "Didn't you worry he'd ditch us earlier?"
Before Lambert could answer, a piercing air-raid siren echoed from the north, scattering birds from the trees.
The zombies in the lot stirred. Slowly at first, then with increasing urgency, they began sprinting toward the source of the sound.
"He did it!" Lambert exclaimed. "Let's move!"
"Wait a bit," Shao Ming said, setting a timer on his watch for 90 minutes.
Once the last zombie disappeared, the two slid down the hill into the parking lot.
Lambert boarded the train first. Inside, everything was just as they'd left it.
Shao Ming kicked out the spent shells scattered on the floor while Lambert fished out a key and started the engine.
"This guy's gotten pretty reliable," Shao Ming thought. "Even in yesterday's chaos, he remembered to stop the train and pocket the key."
Following Lambert's plan, they first hooked up the passenger car.
Shao Ming checked his watch—30 minutes had already passed.
By the time they secured the vehicle transport car, the timer hit 90 minutes.
Now, all that remained was adjusting the track to guide the train out of the yard.
Lambert pulled out a tablet. "Alright, let me figure out the route."