“Brother Cheng, tidy up the stuff here. I’m going out to find a container to pack it in.”
“Roar—”
Fu Cheng looked at Lin Zao with an innocent expression and pure eyes.
—A long sentence. Couldn’t understand it.
Lin Zao pulled a stern face, raised his hand, and pretended to swat him.
—Keep playing dumb? Want to try it?
Fu Cheng paused for a moment, then quickly stood on tiptoe, raised his hands, pulled away the shaky loft planks, and let the piled-up veterinary drugs and medical supplies tumble down.
—Working. He’d get right to work!
That was more like it.
Lin Zao puffed out his cheeks and turned to head outside.
He reached the backyard and returned to the pickup truck.
That zombie from earlier, though not huge, had been a grown adult in life.
With the person and the loft crashing down together, the noise must have been deafening.
Sure enough, Lin Xiaobao, who had been sleeping in the truck, was woken by the racket.
Luckily, his emotions were steady. He didn’t cry when he woke up. Instead, he just sat in his seat, rubbing his eyes and wiping his mouth.
His expression was blank, his gaze dazed, as if he hadn’t quite processed it yet. He simply lowered his head, looked at his little hands, and then sniffed them in front of his nose.
Uh… He’d been drooling. They were wet and stinky.
Lin Xiaobao quietly hid his hands behind his back and wiped them on his clothes, pretending nothing had happened. He lifted his head again and peered toward the front seats.
Where was Dad? Where was Big Daddy?
Before he could fully react to their absence, Lin Zao gently tapped on the window glass to catch his attention. He flashed a confident smile and gave him a thumbs-up.
Infected by his dad’s mood, Lin Xiaobao grinned goofily back and returned the thumbs-up.
The whole exchange took less than half a minute.
Lin Zao smiled, said nothing more, and circled around to the back of the truck.
Good thing he’d thought ahead at the auto factory cafeteria. Since they were already there, they couldn’t leave empty-handed. In the end, he’d had Fu Cheng carry two big white plastic water buckets.
The buckets held a few stainless steel plates and utensils, along with some random odds and ends.
Now, he could empty one out to hold the veterinary supplies perfectly.
Lin Zao gripped the tailgate with both hands, kicked off with his left foot, and clambered into the truck bed.
He bent down, ready to move the stacked plates.
At that moment, in the pitch-black world around him, a beam of light suddenly flared up.
Lin Zao looked up and saw a light flickering on in the window of a nearby self-built house.
Someone!
Lin Zao hurriedly crouched down, hiding behind the water bucket.
Was it a local resident?
Woken by the earlier commotion too?
Lin Zao slowed his movements, carefully shifting things around while peeking out to observe intently.
One light came on—one house’s occupant awake.
Then two lights, three lights.
Two houses, three houses—their people stirring.
Even in the darkness, there might be more folks who hadn’t turned on lights yet, peering out from behind windows toward them.
This was a suburban township. Folks living clustered together were likely family or clan. They’d already cleared the ground floor of the veterinary station. Hearing noise here, they’d surely come to investigate.
Running into them head-on wouldn’t end well.
No way! He couldn’t dawdle like this!
Lin Zao made a snap decision. He stopped fussing with the bucket, leaped from the truck, and dashed back into the veterinary station.
“Brother Cheng, hurry! Load everything onto the truck!”
He bent down, scooped up the bite guard from the floor in both arms, and bolted outside.
No time to pack it into buckets—just toss it straight onto the truck.
Seeing Lin Zao’s urgency, Fu Cheng sprang into action too.
He grabbed the broken wooden planks with both hands, did a pull-up to vault onto the loft, then shoved the remaining supplies down with both hands.
Pill bottles and tablets rained down.
Lin Zao shrugged off his overcoat, spread it out to catch them, gathered a full armload, and rushed it out.
On his way out, he glanced around wildly and saw more and more lights popping on in the self-built houses.
Back and forth, in and out, over and over.
Fu Cheng pushed from above; Lin Zao caught from below.
The two worked in perfect sync. In under a minute, they’d emptied the little loft.
“Brother Cheng, get down here!”
Lin Zao looked up and reached out both hands, as if planning to catch him.
Worried about hurting Lin Zao, Fu Cheng shifted to the side, gripped a plank, flipped over, and landed steadily.
Lin Zao seized Fu Cheng’s hand and pulled him along as they ran out.
“Let’s go!”
Lin Zao fished the truck keys from his coat pocket, unlocked the doors, and shoved Fu Cheng inside.
“Get in!”
In the distance, flashlight beams swept across Lin Zao’s face, then Fu Cheng’s, then Lin Xiaobao’s.
Lin Zao jumped into the driver’s seat, locked the doors, started the engine, and cranked the wheel hard to the left.
“Hang on! I’m flooring it again!”
“Dad!” Lin Xiaobao hugged himself tight.
“Little Zao!” Fu Cheng gripped the handle.
With a roar, the pickup truck fishtailed, smashed through the veterinary station’s back gate, and sped away.
Kicking up clouds of dust and thick exhaust.
And in the rearview mirror, a crowd wielding hoes and rakes, cursing up a storm.
“You damn punk!”
“Drop the stuff!”
“Get back here! You little bastards, I’ll kill you!”
Lin Zao glanced back.
He’d only taken from the public veterinary station, not robbed their homes.
Besides, they’d already looted the place once themselves but chickened out on the second floor because of the zombie.
He and Fu Cheng had faced the zombie head-on. These things were rightfully theirs.
With that thought, Lin Zao turned forward, floored the accelerator, and left the shouts far behind.
“Dad, slow down! Drive safe! I’m gonna pass out!”
“Passing out means you can sleep.”
“You’re the worst!” Lin Xiaobao kicked his feet.
Lin Zao teased him on purpose: “You love it—”
“Dad!”
“That’s the opposite of ‘worst.'”
Lin Xiaobao was exasperated.
Lin Zao turned to look at Fu Cheng.
Fu Cheng seemed to have figured out the trick to riding in the truck.
One hand clamped on the handle—joints stiff, no safety belt needed—he rode steady even on Lin Zao’s wild driving.
Lin Zao cocked his chin at him with a brilliant grin, flashing eight little white teeth.
Fu Cheng tugged his lips into a somewhat stiff smile.
The two shared a laugh.
“We’ve been big bold bandits all night long,” Lin Zao said, thinking it over.
“‘Big Bear Bandits’?” Lin Xiaobao asked. “Is that a new cartoon?”
“Yeah, starring our whole family of three.”
The pickup truck sped off into the distance, vanishing into the night.
…
It was three in the morning, and all was silent.
The most peaceful, serene time on Happiness Street.
Lin Zao deliberately slowed down, muffling the engine as he turned onto the side road and drove in.
But just as he entered the lane, another flashlight beam swept over from a nearby building.
Lin Zao followed the light ahead.
At the window of Building 5, a flash of red hair.
They’d agreed to watch each other’s backs—one family out, the other guarding home.
Afraid they’d sleep too soundly at night, The Tri-Colored Trio had set up rotating night watches to keep their promise.
So this flashlight wasn’t a robber’s glare but a friendly, kind one.
Recognizing the familiar truck, Red Hair waved once, then switched off the light.
Lin Zao rolled down the window and waved back.
Home safe! No worries!
Red Hair ducked back inside and locked the window.
Lin Zao pulled up to their door, hopped out, rushed forward, and raised the garage roller door.
Once it was open, he jumped back in the truck and drove inside.
After parking, he had to get out again to lock it.
No helping it.
Fu Cheng was all thumbs despite his super strength. Give him the keys, and he’d bend them.
Then they’d really be locked out for good.
Lin Xiaobao was too little and asleep besides—no way was he doing it.
So Lin Zao ran back and forth.
He crouched by the roller door, twisted the key twice, and yanked hard.
Satisfied it was secure, he finally exhaled in relief.
No more high-speed getaways!
Home at last! Safe at last!
Lin Zao stood, stretched with a yawn.
On the road, he hadn’t noticed.
But now his back ached, his butt was numb, his hands and feet sore, waist and shoulders throbbing.
Hands on hips, Lin Zao twisted his butt and turned around.
In the truck, Lin Xiaobao was slumped in his seat, out cold again.
Or as he’d put it, passed out—sleeping soundly.
Fu Cheng still sat in the passenger seat.
Before getting out earlier, Lin Zao had casually told him, “Stay in the truck and wait. No wandering.”
And there he sat, obediently, even with the door open.
Lin Zao beamed and trotted over.
“Brother Cheng, hold on a sec.”
He went to the truck bed, grabbed the metal box with the large dog muzzle, skimmed the instructions on the back, and popped it open.
A big black leather collar studded with metal rivets.
Attached was a metal cage far bigger than Lin Zao’s palm.
The bars were thick and long, welded tight and neat—built solid.
To protect a big dog’s nose and ears, the front had leather padding, and the buckles were leather too.
Lin Zao held it, pulled out his ever-present handkerchief, wiped it down, and figured out how to fit it.
Once he had it down, he hid it behind his back and sidled up to Fu Cheng.
“Brother Cheng?”
“Snore—”
Lin Zao tilted his head, eyes crinkling in a smile.
Fu Cheng stared at his smiling face, a bit mesmerized.
Was he getting out?
If he could, Fu Cheng didn’t want to leave the truck, didn’t want to go back to that utility room.
He wanted to stay with Little Zao—driving, scavenging, anything.
Just not go back.
Right then, Lin Zao reached out a hand and crooked a finger at him.
“Brother Cheng, come here.”
Fu Cheng leaned forward without thinking, lowering his head to bring his face close.
Lin Zao used that finger to gently hook the two masks dangling from his face.
His hand slid back to Fu Cheng’s ears.
Fu Cheng held his breath, eyes fixed on him.
Was Little Zao taking off his masks?
Going to kiss his mouth?
Was this okay? Wasn’t Little Zao scared anymore?
Gently, slowly, Lin Zao removed the masks from his face, held his head steady, and wiped his face with the handkerchief.
Without the masks, Fu Cheng’s cold breath hit straight on Lin Zao’s helmet. He could almost feel it bouncing back.
For no reason, Fu Cheng’s heart fluttered.
The next second—
Lin Zao whipped out the collar from behind and snapped it around his neck before he could react.
The buckle clicked perfectly into place.
Then Lin Zao gathered the metal cage and clamped it over his mouth and nose.
The leather hugged his nose bridge tight; the strap locked firm behind his head.
Cold metal bars crossed his vision.
It felt snug, strange.
A voice in his heart cried out—
No! He wouldn’t wear it!
He was human, a zombie—he wouldn’t wear this thing!
He’d refused before, no matter how much Little Zao begged. He couldn’t wear it now either!
Couldn’t…
But soon, he forgot all about it.
Because—
“Brother Cheng, you look so hot! My legs are turning to jelly!”
Lin Zao whooped, leaped onto him, and cupped his face.
“Mwah mwah mwah—”
A storm of kisses, endless as a bird pecking food, landing on his forehead, eyes, cheeks.
“I’ve been waiting for this day forever! Smooch smooch—”
Fu Cheng was pinned to the seat. His hands rose to push Lin Zao away, then dropped.
Rose again, dropped again.
He had the strength—one percent would shove Lin Zao off.
Two percent would rip the thing from his face and snap it.
But he…
Couldn’t bear to.
After all, he’d been waiting for this day too, for so long.
Fu Cheng leaned back in the seat and lifted his hand once more.
His gloved fingers tentatively stroked Lin Zao’s slim waist.
Seeing no objection, Fu Cheng spread his palm, pressed it to Lin Zao’s waist, gathered his back, and pulled him into a full embrace.
This was good.
Being a house-trained zombie with a wife—damn good.
