Not far from the volunteer team, a group of masked young people moved quietly through the hallway of an apartment building. Their eyes exchanged nervous glances until they finally stopped in front of a closed door.
"Knock, knock, knock."
The sound echoed through the silent corridor. A tense voice came from behind the door:"Who is it? Who are you?"
"We're here to help you. Do you want to get out of here?" one of the masked young men said softly.
There was a brief silence, then a more anxious voice replied,"Don't touch my door! If they find out it's been forced open, we're finished!"
"Do you really think staying in there will keep you safe?" the masked young man asked coldly.
"I don't care who you are—just go! We don't want to get caught!" The voice was firm and frightened.
The couple behind the door clearly weren't willing to take the risk. The masked young man sighed and gave up. They exchanged glances and moved on to the next door.
Just as they were about to knock, a loud and urgent banging sound echoed from far down the hall."Bang! Bang! Bang!" The noise broke the eerie silence like a warning.
Back with the volunteer team, Hai Ying frowned and whispered,"Do you hear that? What's that sound?"
Mo Wen opened his mouth but didn't speak. The noise reminded him of the first ten minutes of a horror movie— the part where everything starts to go wrong.
He glanced at Jerry and saw his pale face and wide eyes, locked on the direction of the sound. Finally, Jerry couldn't take it anymore and moved closer to Dr. Tanaka. In a low voice, he asked,"We're almost there, right?"
Dr. Tanaka hesitated, then nodded."Yes… not far now. Nobody wants to stay here longer than they have to." Without waiting for a response, he suddenly stood up and started moving ahead quickly.
The others hurried to follow him. Groups from the back caught up too, their faces pale and tense.
Joe, the caretaker, had somehow found a thick wooden branch and held it tightly in his hands."I'm telling you," he said seriously,"it feels better having a weapon. This place gives me the creeps."
Hearing that, Hai Ying immediately stuck close to Joe, as if he was her only shield. Jerry swallowed hard, his throat making a dry, scraping sound."Maybe… we should go back," he whispered.
"Go back?" Jerry's eyes went wide."That road behind us was terrifying— I'd rather die than go back!"
He glanced around and then looked at Mo Wen."What if we go back together?"
Mo Wen looked Jerry up and down, taking in his skinny frame. Without hesitation, he shook his head."No way."
Jerry pouted, clearly disappointed, but he didn't slow down. In fact, he sped up.
Finally, a security checkpoint appeared in the distance. Several men in matching uniforms were pacing or sitting around. Each of them carried automatic weapons. The fading sunlight stretched their shadows long and dark, adding an extra layer of unease.
Dr. Tanaka let out a relieved breath and picked up his pace, waving toward the guards as they approached.
But Mo Wen suddenly grabbed Jerry's arm, slowing him down.
Jerry looked at him in confusion."What's wrong? We're safe now. Why do you look like you've seen a ghost? Don't tell me the stuff back at that mansion scared you that bad."
Mo Wen's eyes were filled with suspicion."Those uniforms… they're not military."
Jerry rolled his eyes."This place obviously needs security. Doesn't have to be the army."
Mo Wen shook his head, his voice low and worried."But those weapons… they're all automatic rifles. No way regular security carries gear like that."
Jerry snorted."They're private security. Mercenaries. Ever heard of them?" He yanked his arm free and rushed toward Dr. Tanaka, eager to reach what he thought was safety.
The armed men had noticed the group by then. They slowly turned to face the approaching figures, their eyes calm and unreadable. There was something chilling about the way they watched— too composed, too detached.
It was the look of people who had seen too much, the kind of people who had long since stopped feeling anything at all.
——
The sharp screech of tires shattered the silence. A battered pickup truck burst onto the road from an alley, swaying wildly like an unrestrained beast. The elderly driver, his silver hair disheveled, gripped the wheel tightly, veins bulging in his tense hands. Beside him, a middle-aged woman in a floral dress frantically waved her arms, shouting directions as obstacles loomed.
The truck bed was crowded with five or six people. A middle-aged man hugged his head with both hands, curled up, praying softly. Next to him, a young woman clutched the edge of the bed, her face pale, her eyes full of terror. Another young man seemed to have lost control, frantically slapping the sides of the bed, cursing loudly as though he might jump out at any moment. The remaining people looked numb, as though fear had shattered them, making them unresponsive to the truck's violent swaying.
The pickup truck sped through the obstacles on the road, its tires scraping against cement blocks, sparks flying. The soldiers instantly became alert, quickly setting up tire spikes. Warning shouts filled the air, and their guns were aimed at the truck.
"They really want to break through,"
Sima instinctively grabbed Mo Wen's arm, his gaze fixed on the out-of-control vehicle.
"Young people nowadays really are reckless'heroes.'" He seemed oblivious to the fact that the people in the truck were all quite young, as though he believed that everything he disapproved of must be the work of the younger generation.
However, the driver of the vehicle was not a young man—it was a silver-haired old man, his eyes filled with madness and despair. He stomped on the gas pedal, and the pickup truck roared like a beast, charging straight towards the blockade. The passengers in the truck bed were thrown about, their screams and the sounds of collisions blending into a chaotic symphony.
The blockade was just ahead, and the tension was almost palpable. Suddenly, the soldiers behind the checkpoint fortifications opened fire, the gunshots crackling like firecrackers, tearing through the darkness. Bullets rained down without warning, as if their orders allowed no one to leave the quarantine zone alive.
"They didn't even warn or stop us, they just started shooting!" Mo Wen hid behind the concrete barrier, his voice filled with anger and fear."They must have orders to let no one out alive..." Before he could finish, the pickup truck's tires were hit by bullets and exploded instantly. The violent metal collision echoed like thunder, the truck flipping over, and the passengers in the bed were thrown onto the cold road like puppets with cut strings. The sound of shattering glass was sharp as gunfire, mingling with screams and silence in the night.
Dust filled the air, which seemed to freeze. Mo Wen's heartbeat thundered in his ears as he stared at the twisted, struggling bodies on the ground, his mind blank. Blood and dirt mixed, forming glaring marks. Survivors tried to stand but were overwhelmed by despair and pain.
"Pain, pain, pain!" Mo Wen's cries of pain brought Sima back to reality. The older man quickly released his grip on Mo Wen's arm, his nails almost embedded in his flesh. He nodded apologetically but couldn't tear his eyes away from the horrific crash scene.
The overturned pickup truck emitted wisps of black smoke, slowly rising into the dim sky like an ominous signal. The old man lay by the roadside, his body mangled, his neck twisted at an unnatural angle. He had been so determined to break through the blockade, only to fall just a step away from freedom.
Just when everyone thought it was over, the woman in the passenger seat miraculously survived. Covered in blood, she crawled up from the roadside and staggered towards the soldiers, her voice hoarse but filled with anger,"Help! You bastards, help!"
Her shout was like a thunderclap, drawing the volunteers' attention. Joe instinctively wanted to rush over but was held back by Hai Ying. Her face was pale, her head buried behind the barrier, unable to watch. Joe broke free from her grip and was about to run out when a burst of gunfire erupted.
In Joe's view, the woman's body shook violently like a leaf in the wind before collapsing on the cold road. Blood quickly spread, merging with the cold ground. The soldiers continued forward, the sound of their boots crushing gravel clearly audible. Their movements were precise and cold, as if they had done this a hundred times. Yet, their eyes revealed numbness and fatigue.
The gunfire gradually ceased, and silence, like an invisible weight, enveloped the volunteer team. Thirty-some people hid behind the barrier, not daring to move.
"You, come here!" An officer's angry shout broke the silence, his voice full of impatience and authority.