Ch.91Chapter 12. New Life (6)

“Is that really a human voice?”

I deliberately spoke to the two women. When nerves are on edge, even insignificant sounds become alarming, and perception gets distorted.

So maybe this sound isn’t human but something else entirely.

“Help! Help! Help!”

It does sound human.

“Seems like it is.”

Camilla, now fully awake, confirmed. Cassandra nodded too. The warning on the whiteboard flashed in my mind.

Whatever sounds you hear from the fields, never go alone.

“What are we going to do?”

Cassandra asked, clearly terrified.

“We have to go, obviously.”

I answered.

“What are you talking about? We should stay quiet here until morning. Do you even know what that might be out there?”

Camilla immediately objected.

“B-but they’re asking for help. They might be in trouble.”

Cassandra fidgeted with her fingers. Camilla shook her head quickly.

“Don’t trust anyone but us. People in unprotected zones are not to be taken lightly. Think about it. The quarantine in the unprotected zone fell a while ago.

Anyone weak in body or mind has long since turned into zombies. Those still alive must be pretty tough characters.”

“But Johan said we should go.”

To Cassandra’s rebuttal, Camilla replied with a somewhat reluctant voice.

“Well, I don’t think it’s for the reason you’re thinking.”

Somehow both Camilla and Cassandra seemed to be staring at me intently. What do they take me for?

“First reason is, I’m sleepy. I want to check it out quickly and go back to sleep. Second reason, whatever it is, if it’s dangerous, it’s better to run away sooner.”

Cassandra seemed a bit dumbfounded, but—

“I knew it.”

Camilla, who quickly agreed, had already put on her tactical vest and bulletproof helmet. Cassandra just blinked, looking bewildered.

“You stay here. Camilla and I will go and—”

“Help meeeee!”

“Eeeeeek!”

Cassandra let out a choked gasp, grabbing my arm and shaking her head vigorously.

“N-no. No. I’m coming with you. I’m coming! I-I-I’m s-scared!”

With her long black hair, green eyes, and large chest that even darkness couldn’t hide, Cassandra looked more like a ghost herself.

“Okay, okay. I get it, now let go!”

In the end, all three of us put on our gear. We got dressed inside the car to prevent unnecessary noise from escaping outside.

While checking my pouches, I grabbed my cell phone.

I considered leaving it in the car, but decided to take it since it could serve as a temporary flash grenade or decoy in an emergency.

“Help meee!”

We quietly pushed aside the furniture blocking the door. Thanks to the doorknob I’d broken earlier, there was no noise.

The moon was bright. Dead cornstalks reaching up to my chest swayed aimlessly. I could hear rustling sounds. The rotten grain smell from the silo still lingered.

“Help meee! Help me! Help me!”

“Something’s off.”

Cassandra whispered. I nodded. For some reason, I felt an inexplicable sense of unease.

Inside the garage, the sound had been distorted, which was understandable, but hearing it clearly now, it seemed like… someone was mimicking a voice.

“Maybe…”

“Maybe what?”

“Could it be… a g-ghost?”

Right. There’s no rule saying doctors can’t believe in ghosts. If zombies exist, why not ghosts?

“Hey, Camilla.”

Camilla was repeatedly wiping her face with her palm. She was visibly tense.

“What is it? See something?”

“…No. Just remembered a story I heard as a child.”

“What story?”

“A monster that mimics human voices. It hides in wheat fields or cornfields with its mouth wide open, and when it catches its prey, it sucks them dry and tosses them aside.”

“Help meeeee!”

“Eeeek!” “Hnngh!”

I can understand Cassandra’s reaction, but Camilla, why are you freaking out too?

“This isn’t working. Camilla, Cassandra, can you take position behind the silo?”

Camilla grabbed my arm before Cassandra could.

“W-what are you planning to do?”

“Something ghosts hate the most.”

“W-what’s that?”

Cassandra was trembling terribly, looking absolutely terrified. I guarantee even a ghost would run away scared if it saw Cassandra right now. I took out my cell phone from the pouch.

“Mimicry.”

I turned on the voice recorder. Soon enough, that eerie voice was captured.

“Help meeeee!”

“Good. Go quietly and quickly. I’m going to play it.”

Camilla practically dragged Cassandra as they moved quickly behind the silo. I selected repeat on the recording and set it to play only the voice segment.

“Help! Help! Help!”

It was too quiet, so I turned the volume to maximum and put it in my pouch.

“Help! Help! Help!”

“Grrrr.”

The cornfield rustled. This was different from the way it had been moving with the wind. With a thud, some dead stalks suddenly disappeared.

Crackle. Crackle. At a glance, about five stalks vanished. Something was trampling the dead cornstalks and coming this way. There was definitely more than one. I gripped my submachine gun firmly.

“Help! Help! Help! Help!”

“Goddess, help meeeee!”

Without a sound, something leaped out from the cornfield. Dark, about knee-high, and fast. No time to think twice. I fired the submachine gun rapidly.

“Yap! Yap!”

Even with bullets piercing its back, it didn’t fall. It retreated, trailing blood, and took a stance.

A wild dog?

No. Not quite. Short, round ears pointing upward. A somewhat flat face with an elongated snout. A rather large nose.

A wolf.

A zombie wolf.

Oh—

Ratatat.

I shot it precisely in the head, bringing it down. With the opponent being a wolf zombie rather than a human one, this was disadvantageous terrain.

I backed away cautiously, keeping watch in all directions. I’d thrown out the carcass, so now I just needed to wait for the others to come and feed on it.

Suddenly.

A black shadow sprang up with a whoosh. Bang! A gunshot rang out from behind, right by my ear. The sound of an R-15 rifle.

“Johan! Below!”

Two wolves were charging at me.

Calmly, I fired three shots at the one on the left, two at the one on the right. Unable to resist their forward momentum, they tumbled. I jumped back, regained my stance, and aimed for their eyes.

Thud, the bullet exited through the back of a wolf’s head.

“Goddess! Goddess! Help! Help!”

The dead cornstalks fell even faster. Without a second thought, I dashed back into the garage.

I let Camilla and Cassandra in first, then barricaded the door. As soon as I did, bang! The sound of claws frantically scratching at the door echoed.

“Let’s get in the vehicles! Unlock the barricade!”

Thanks to the stones piled at the bottom, the door wouldn’t suddenly burst open. Camilla climbed into the truck.

“Cassandra, take the pickup’s wheel!”

Though trembling, Cassandra ran to the driver’s seat. I followed her and got into the passenger seat. I took out my phone and turned off the repeating voice. Cassandra started the engine.

“I’ll open the door!”

Camilla shouted from outside the window. The 2.5-ton truck moved smoothly and pushed open the firmly closed garage door.

“Yap! Yap!”

The pack of wolves gathered outside the door howled and retreated. Camilla drove the truck straight at them.

Faced with the overwhelming size of the truck with its high beams on, even the zombie wolves seemed to lose their nerve and backed off.

Vrooom! The truck sped down the road. Cassandra followed close behind. The wolves, having regained their composure, caught up to us.

“Yap! Yaaarp!”

An ominous gnawing sound. They were biting at the armor plating. Were they planning to chew through the tires too?

I lowered the window and fired my pistol randomly. Stimulated by the flames and noise, more of them charged at us. Clearly one or two were hit and fell bleeding, but still they came.

“Cassandra. Are you hungry?”

“What? What are you talking about all of a sudden?”

“I asked if you’re hungry!”

“I am hungry, aaaah!”

Something bright red fluttered outside the window and perched on the truck’s wiper.

“Help! Help! Goddess help me!”

Red and yellow feathers clearly visible even in the darkness. A parrot. A parrot as long as my forearm, with half its feathers plucked out and ragged flesh swelling up.

“Help! Help! Goddess help me!”

“Kyaaaah!”

Cassandra frantically turned on the wipers. The parrot fluttered, gripping the wiper and repeatedly crying out “Help! Help! Goddess!”

“Get it off! Get it off! Please get this thing off!”

“Drive faster!”

Cassandra overtook the truck and sped ahead. She moved the wipers faster and even sprayed washer fluid. Tap-tap-tap-tap! The zombie parrot pecked at the windshield like a woodpecker.

“Help! Goddess! Help! Goddess!”

“Slow down a little.”

Cassandra reduced speed. After confirming the zombie wolves were completely left behind, I opened the door. I rested my pistol in the gap and fired. One shot. Two shots. The third hit.

“Goddess.”

With those final words, the parrot flew off to the side of the car.

* * * * *

Cassandra didn’t stop the car. Neither did Camilla.

Though they had fallen behind, the wolves were persistently following us. Not just wolves—human zombies sitting by the roadside spotted us and came running too.

Strange.

The pattern is different.

In cities, maybe, but in human unprotected zones, zombies never left their fallen comrades alone. Even with stronger enemies present, they were obsessed with tearing into flesh. Satisfying their hunger was the priority.

But these ones are different. It’s about fifty-fifty. Some can’t resist their hunger and bite, while others keep approaching us.

Suddenly, I recall what happened at the safe house. Cassandra and Camilla had a minor argument. When I stabbed a zombie in the stomach, other zombies simultaneously jumped out from the surrounding bushes.

Fortunately, they behaved as expected. They lost interest in me and started devouring their comrade.

But Camilla said they came out “looking for me,” while Cassandra said they came out “hearing a signal.”

If it’s the former, not much has changed from what we know. But if it’s the latter?

It’s strategy. Maybe zombies are developing strategies to survive. But how? How could that be possible? My mind is racing.

* * * * *

Dawn is breaking.

The number of zombies pursuing us hasn’t significantly increased or decreased.

Some drop out, but new ones join in. One thing is clear—there were no humans in this area. Or they passed through quickly like us.

If only the terrain had some variation, some undulation. But on this completely flat ground, we can clearly see those following us from quite far away. They can probably see us too.

We need to block them at least once.

The easiest method that comes to mind is, of course, shooting.

The truck carries a substantial amount of ammunition. Rifles, submachine guns, and pistols are all reasonably well-stocked.

But we can’t waste ammunition. We need to consider what we can gain from using each bullet, not just fire indiscriminately.

It’s not about securing a residential area or overcoming an immediate threat. We can’t waste bullets and time just to shake off a pointless pursuit.

In the midst of my deliberation, something caught my eye.

A bridge.

Not a very wide bridge. Wide enough for two cars to pass, about 30 meters long.

Abandoned vehicles were visible on the other side of the river. Though their windows were all broken and they looked worn, at least the tires seemed intact.

“Cassandra, let’s head for the bridge!”

I waved my hand out the window, signaling to Camilla. Camilla flashed her high beams on and off to indicate she understood.