C19 Farewell Tshaped Zombies!

As Willett gazed at the slightly ajar iron gate of Luvern's home, a sense of dread washed over him. In the post-apocalyptic world, an open door often signaled a gruesome end. Taking a deep breath, he turned to Janet and instructed, "Stay close to me."

With that, he marched toward the entrance.

Janet, catching a glimpse of the somber expression on Willett's face, felt a twinge of anxiety. She remained silent and hastened her steps to keep up with him as they entered the house.

Inside, the scene was chaotic, much like other homes in this ravaged world. Furniture was overturned, belongings strewn about, and slippers that once lay neatly by the door were now scattered everywhere. A thin layer of dust coated the floor, a clear sign of long abandonment. Willett entered the living room and softly called out his friends' names, but was met with silence. After a moment's hesitation, he turned and made his way to Luvern's bedroom. It was a familiar place where he and Luvern had spent countless hours battling through new video games, sometimes staying for days until they emerged victorious. The room held a treasure trove of fond memories for him.

Willett paused at the bedroom door, listening intently for any sound from within. The thought of opening the door filled him with trepidation; he feared the sight that might greet him—his best friend's lifeless body. He and Luvern had grown up together, attending the same elementary school, middle school, and university. Luvern was more than a friend; he was an essential part of Willett's life. They had shared everything from study sessions to skipping classes, from brawls to bouts of laughter. Their bond was as deep as that of brothers, complete with an unspoken understanding and familial love. The prospect of losing Luvern forever was unbearable. Even as he had faced hordes of zombies without flinching, the thought of confronting what lay beyond that thin wooden door paralyzed him. The possibility that Luvern might have turned into one of the undead was too much to bear.

Janet stood quietly behind Willett, observing his usually strong figure now seeming deflated. She understood his fear; she knew that to Willett, Luvern was not just a friend but a brother, kin. She had endured the agony of losing loved ones herself, a pain so intense it tore at the soul. Gently, she stepped closer to Willett and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Go ahead," she encouraged. "It's something you'll have to face, sooner or later."

Willett caught the encouraging gaze of the woman beside him, clenched his teeth, and cautiously extended his hand to grasp the doorknob.

"Creak!"

The sound of the wooden door creaking open pierced the stillness of the night, adding to the oppressive atmosphere of the room.

"Click!"

Willett flicked on the overhead light, revealing a room in disarray but thankfully devoid of blood. He exhaled in relief; the scene he had dreaded most was nowhere to be seen. Closing the door, Willett backed away and began methodically searching for clues, room by room.

Ten minutes later, Willett discovered a letter in Luvern's parents' bedroom. Addressed to Luvern's sister, it detailed how zombies had encroached upon their home. The family, alongside their neighbors, had managed to fend off the creatures after two harrowing days. But amidst the chaos, Luvern had spiked a high fever and slipped into unconsciousness. With the undead closing in, their predicament grew dire. By a stroke of luck, they encountered a military unit en route to Gloumding that offered them refuge and a chance to escape. Luvern's parents decided to join the unit, heading for Gloumding. They implored his sister to stay safe and expressed hope for a reunion in Gloumding, while also seeking her forgiveness for not waiting for her.

Holding the letter, Willett's spirits lifted slightly, reassured that his close friend was still alive. Reflecting on his own experience of falling ill after his first zombie kill, he surmised that Luvern had likely come into contact with the same mysterious blue substance, leading to his collapse and subsequent evolution. Luvern's sister, however, seemed to be in grave danger, given the untouched state of the letter for nearly two months.

"Sigh! This accursed end of the world!"

Willett muttered under his breath, his frustration palpable. He glanced at Janet, who peeked around with a look of concern, and felt a flicker of warmth in his heart, comforted by her presence. Handing her the letter, he reassured her, "Luvern's family has safely withdrawn to Gloumding with the military. They should be fine. As for his sister..."

His voice dropped as he spoke, "I'm afraid her chances are slim."

Willett's spirits, which had been lifted by news of his friend, sank once more as he thought of the big sister with the warm, welcoming smile—she was likely gone for good.

"Life and death are in the hands of fate, and the departed are beyond our reach. All we can do now is live well, so we might see them again one day! You can't let yourself get down; you've got to protect me!"

Janet nudged the silent Willett, offering words of encouragement.

"Heh, who would've thought I'd see the day when a crybaby would be comforting me? Thanks, Beastkin, I feel a lot better now."

Realizing that dwelling on it was pointless, Willett took a deep breath, rallied his spirits, and offered Janet a small smile.

"Go to hell! Who's the crybaby? And stop calling me Beastkin. Call me a beauty! You pig!"

Initially concerned that Willett might succumb to despair, Janet was now irked by his nickname for her. Angrily, she retorted, "I should've known a simpleton like you wouldn't be so easily shaken. I wasted my kindness trying to comfort you—I must've been blind!"

Mid-sentence, she lifted her foot, poised to launch a physical assault.

Suddenly, a series of heavy footsteps echoed from nearby. As they grew louder, Willett's face turned ashen. The sound indicated they were close, and in the post-apocalyptic world, he knew only one creature with such a heavy tread: the T-shaped zombie.

The memory of the T-shaped zombie laying waste to the police station flashed through Willett's mind, and a cold sweat broke out on his forehead. He quickly crouched down, pulling Janet close and covering her mouth as he whispered urgently, "Stay quiet. A dangerous foe is near. I'm no match for him—if he discovers us, we're done for!"

For the first time, Janet saw a grave look on Willett's face and grasped the gravity of the situation, immediately crouching down and remaining silent.

Eventually, the heavy footsteps receded, and Willett's heartbeat steadied. He opened his coat and retrieved a long-treasured 92 police revolver, placing it in Janet's hands.

"Is this a gun?"

Janet examined the firearm in her hands, her disbelief evident. For her generation, guns were something seen only on TV, and actually holding a real one was a dizzying first. The black, oily sheen of the gun was almost overwhelming.

Willett nodded, amused by the incredulous look on Janet's face. Reflecting on his own reaction when he first handled the gun, he spoke in a hushed tone, "Yes, I found it on a police officer who had turned into a zombie. It's a 92 police revolver, quite user-friendly. Now, let me show you how to use it."

"Ah? You're going to teach me to shoot? Why? It won't go off by accident, will it? Besides, I've never even held a gun before!"

Janet struggled to come to terms with Willett's proposal.

Willett, observing Janet's worried expression, spoke with gravity, "The number of zombies outside is only going to increase, and the evolved ones are even tougher to handle. I'm concerned I won't always be able to look after everything, so I've decided it's best to entrust you with this. You should only use it as a last resort, because loud gunfire will draw more zombies. Got it?"

"Oh."

Realizing Willett was serious about teaching her how to handle the pistol, Janet reluctantly nodded. She knew her old friend well; despite his usual meekness, which she sometimes took advantage of, she wouldn't dare provoke him when he was this earnest. Besides, her life was at stake, and she had no choice but to take this seriously. She was well aware that while Willett might always be there to protect her, the outside world was fraught with danger, and he could slip up. In such a moment, the gun in her hands would be her only lifeline. With this in mind, she paid close attention and learned diligently.

It was undeniable that Janet was intelligent; she quickly grasped how to use the sophisticated weapon. Now, all she lacked was practical experience—it was clear she needed to find time for some real practice.

As they wrapped up the lesson and were about to stow the weapons, heavy footsteps sounded once more. This time, they didn't seem to be merely passing by; they were heading directly toward them.

As the footsteps drew closer, Willett's grip on his saber tightened. He hoped against hope that the T-shaped zombie was merely passing by again and wouldn't enter. But in a post-apocalyptic world, reality often cruelly defies one's desires.

"Boom!"

A thunderous crash echoed as the sturdy door burst into fragments, revealing a towering figure before them. Gazing up at the three-meter-tall monstrosity, both of them involuntarily gulped. Willett eyed the advancing T-shaped zombie and turned to Janet, who was completely petrified by fear. Clenching his jaw, he realized they were once again in a fight for their lives.