Chapter 7

The day of the zombie outbreak from my dream finally arrived.

Just past midnight, Dad went down and locked the fire doors on the uninhabited floors below us. He set up hidden cameras and placed numerous obstacles in the stairwell (movable in one direction).

I still couldn't sleep.

At seven AM, the family pretended everything was normal – got up, washed up, ate scrambled eggs on toast, then sat in a row watching the news.

The news reported nothing major, just brief commentary on recent political turmoil.

The complex gradually woke up. White-collar workers headed to their jobs normally. A few toddlers clung to the playground equipment, delaying their trip to kindergarten. The more peaceful and ordinary the outside world seemed, the more nervous I became. The unknown was a sword hanging over my head.

"Mom, Dad, don't go out." I massaged my temples, keeping my eyes on the news.

Midday brought routine pandemic updates. "New cases: 19,684. Local confirmed…" the anchor droned.

I dozed off after lunch.

That afternoon, I got @ mentioned a lot on Weibo; readers were puzzled about my decision to stay indoors. By the time the day was nearly over, there was still no movement on any social media platform. Weibo was dominated by entertainment news. Having lived through a major pandemic outbreak, I knew how reassuring it was to see entertainment news dominating the headlines.

But close to midnight, one trending topic climbed steadily higher.

​​"Unexplained Headaches and Vomiting in Multiple Locations"​​

From Hubei: "Was fine this morning. Went out shopping at noon, came back with a headache."

From Jiangxi: "My mom too. No cold symptoms, just a headache."

From Sichuan: "What the hell's going on?"

...

The next day, the National Health Commission responded, saying an investigation was underway. Whether it was a variant of the COVID virus was still being investigated.

My heart dropped. The clinical presentation was headaches and vomiting? If it were a fever, they might have isolated people! What could they do about headaches?! Prescribe some cold medicine and send people home to rest!

That meant infected people would flow into every walk of life, every location!

Even the police, firefighters... if just one was infected, the consequences would be unthinkable!

Horrified, I hugged Mom. Faced with such a massive disaster, I felt utterly powerless. I could only secretly be thankful for my incredible luck.

Soon, videos exploded from all over.

The highest-liked video sounded like it was from Hubei. Inside a supermarket, a little boy suddenly collapsed, convulsing, face white. His frantic parents called for security and an ambulance. The camera showed a crowd gathering, many filming on their phones. As medical personnel reached for the boy, he viciously bit the wrist of one!

A female nurse screamed and recoiled. The boy's mother hurriedly pushed the nurse away, saying her child was young and didn't know any better. Then she got bitten too.

The picture zoomed in. The boy's eyes bulged slightly, blood smeared his mouth, and his breathing was heavy. More incredibly, the boy arched his back and stood up from the ground – with no external help! His arms were stiff! Gurgling, he opened his mouth and lunged at the crowd!

The bitten doctor struggled free, his wrist bleeding slightly. Clearly provoked, the boy went berserk, charging at the doctor again. The person behind the phone cursed ("Holy shit!") and ran, the footage becoming increasingly shaky.

Comments were mostly mocking:

"Rabies? Mental illness? Mania?"

"OP, you okay?"

"Must be fine, otherwise there'd be no video."

"Staged? Don't spread rumors, thanks."

A few hours later, the video vanished.

I felt suffocated, breathless, my heart aching dully.