pjbooks Chapter 306 Survival on a Deserted Road
Chapter 306 Survival on a Deserted Road
On the desolate highway leading to Raccoon City, overgrown with weeds.
A convoy of several dilapidated and broken-down cars...
"Victor."
Inside the armored truck with its shattered windshield, an anxious voice came through the walkie-talkie.
"Our car is almost out of gas."
"I know."
Victor glanced at the dashboard of his vehicle and replied calmly.
"No, I mean... our car is running out of gas."
However, Victor did not answer this time.
He glanced at the rearview mirror of the armored truck.
Through the mostly shattered remnants of the mirror, one can see the empty highway behind it.
There was absolutely nothing on the entire desolate highway except for their convoy.
But he knew very well that having nothing didn't mean he was safe.
His experience during this period taught him that this kind of security is only superficial, and the real danger never comes from the surface.
If they stop, the monsters will reappear soon.
Now, the entire escape convoy has only twenty-nine people left, and they cannot withstand any blow, not even the slightest one.
No, it's twenty-seven people.
Because last night, while they were resting temporarily at a certain place, someone else ran away.
They were a father and daughter, a middle-aged man around forty years old with his daughter who was about ten years old.
They left the convoy under cover of night without saying a word.
In the past, Victor might have tried to give chase, given the inherent dangers of the wilderness, but now...
After experiencing and seeing more, he no longer had that kind of thought.
Imagine a father with his daughter, following a convoy of cars that have nothing in them, heading towards a place whose name they've only heard on the radio.
Even if it were him, he would hesitate.
My thoughts returned to reality.
"Attention everyone!"
He picked up the walkie-talkie, trying to keep his voice as calm as possible.
"We're almost at our destination. Keep a safe distance and don't stop."
However, there was no response from the walkie-talkie, only silence.
Victor paused slightly, then sighed inwardly once more.
It seems that this long journey has almost destroyed everyone's last bit of will.
In fact, not only the survivors in the convoy, but even he who blew up the bridge at the time did not think he had any chance of surviving.
But afterwards, these people, like cockroaches, kept coming back again and again.
Along the way, they encountered mutated squirrels, gray wolves, and even a mutated black bear.
The giant bear, nearly twice the size of a normal bear, had lost its fur, revealing a hard, grayish-white carapace underneath.
The thing slammed its hand into a pine tree by the roadside, snapping the trunk in half.
However, even so, they still managed to escape death and come back to life.
But now, because all supplies have been lost, the entire convoy is facing disintegration...
He didn't want to give up, nor did he dare to.
"Victor."
Just then, a woman's voice came through the walkie-talkie.
"explain."
"The children are hungry."
Victor felt a terrible headache coming on. He closed his eyes briefly.
Tell them to be patient, we're not far from our destination.
"But...Victor, they haven't eaten anything since yesterday morning."
"I know."
"That--"
Monica.
Victor interrupted her.
"I have no food. No water. I'm almost out of oil. I have nothing left."
There was a few seconds of silence on the other end of the walkie-talkie.
"Should we continue?"
Victor has heard this question no less than ten times in the past twenty-four hours.
It started as a tentative question. Then it turned into questioning. Then it turned into silence. Now even the silence is beginning to crumble.
Victor gripped the walkie-talkie, his knuckles turning white.
There were eleven people on the school bus.
Six of them are children, the youngest being only five years old.
The five-year-old girl was named Amy. She had blonde hair and blue eyes, and she hadn't cried once since the day she was rescued and put into the car.
It wasn't because she was brave.
It's because she's already forgotten the point of crying.
This child is so sensible it breaks my heart.
Of course, the situation inside the armored truck wasn't much better.
The fat man in the passenger seat had two fingers on his right hand severed by the car door while he was escaping. They were now wrapped in a dirty strip of cloth. The bleeding had stopped, but the cloth had turned from red to black.
The fat man didn't say anything; he just leaned back in his seat, staring straight ahead, his lips cracked like a riverbed in the desert.
Victor knew that if the wound wasn't treated, it would become infected within two days.
But they don't even have iodine solution left, what should they do?
There are still many problems, and each one is like a straw that breaks the camel's back, threatening to crush them at any moment.
"Victor."
Before he could speak, another voice came from the walkie-talkie.
This time it's Danny on the pickup truck.
"What's wrong now?"
"You mean that... Raccoon City, does it really exist?"
Victor gripped the steering wheel tightly: "Didn't they say so on the radio?"
"You believe everything they say on the radio? What if it's a trap? There are no traps after the apocalypse—"
"So what do you want?"
Victor's voice suddenly rose.
"Turn around? Where are we going to turn around and go back to? Don't you know what happened on the way here?"
Tell me, Danny, where do you want to go back to?
Upon hearing his question, the walkie-talkie fell silent.
Victor probably realized that his tone was a bit harsh.
"Danny, listen to me."
He lowered his voice.
"I don't know if that place is really safe."
But we have no other choice now.
We may have enough fuel, or we may not. But as long as we can still run, we'll keep going. To stop means death.
And he must exist in that place.
"……All right."
Upon hearing his words, a heavy and disappointed reply came through the walkie-talkie.
Victor hesitated for a moment, then put down the walkie-talkie without saying anything.
He placed his hand on his knee, feeling the persistent pain there.
It was already an injured leg, and the ligaments were damaged when the bridge was blown up.
He looked up at the windshield.
The roadsides are lined with mutated forests.
The trees were two to three times taller than normal, and their trunks were covered with grayish-green moss-like material. Some of the tree branches moved slowly, as if they were breathing.
Victor disliked these plants, especially after a group of monsters had emerged from them last time.
But even if he didn't like it, he had to accept this reality.
Suddenly, the engine of the armored truck coughed again.
The fuel gauge needle wobbled below the red line for a moment, then stabilized.
Victor glanced at it, his expression growing increasingly grave.
But it can still run.
If you can still run, keep running.
Stopping means death!
Victor stared intently at the road ahead, the gray line stretching out into the mutated forest, its end nowhere in sight.
Behind him, Amy, on the school bus, leaned against the broken window, her little hand supporting her chin, looking out at the huge, mutated trees.
Her eyes were empty.
It's not sadness, it's not fear.
It's just empty.
A five-year-old child shouldn't have that kind of look in their eyes.
But this world no longer cares about what should or shouldn't be...