Two months later, in a province in the southern United States...
A New York Jeep Cherokee, so dirty that its color was unrecognizable, sped down an empty interstate highway at ninety kilometers per hour, kicking up a cloud of dust behind it. Inside, a young man with short hair wore a pair of black sunglasses, leisurely driving while rhythmically tapping the steering wheel to the wild music playing in the car. In the passenger seat, a large red dog mimicked its owner, wearing oversized sunglasses and sticking its head out the window, curiously observing everything outside.
"What the fuck, when did traffic in America get this bad?" The young man suddenly slammed the steering wheel in frustration, looking at the car crash ahead that resembled a small mountain.
"Oh no, Master, how many times have we been stuck on this road today? Seven times or eight?" The large red dog, surprisingly, spoke like Thomas, its expression equally frustrated, showing a remarkable sense of humanity.
"No matter how many times it takes, you have to keep at it!" The young man slowly pressed the brake, and the long-neglected Cherokee let out a screeching sound of friction before coming to a stop with a "crunch." He turned his head to grab a black shotgun from the back seat, quickly checked the bullets in the gun, chambered one, then opened the car door and jumped out. Seeing the big dog still lounging in the car, he shouted, "If you want to walk back on two legs, then stay up there and don't move! Otherwise, you'll immediately go clean up the trash around here!"
"Come on, I have four legs!" the big red dog mumbled, and upon seeing the young man's unfriendly face, it wisely opened the car door and jumped down. Looking up at the scorching midday sun, the big dog sighed, "Oh my, to have to do physical labor on such a hot day, do you even understand what dog rights are?"
The young man ignored the dog's complaints and slung the shotgun over his shoulder as he walked slowly toward a small shop by the roadside. In front of the shop, which used to have a bright entrance, was now piled high with various car wrecks—yes, piled high.
Don't think this is a car junkyard, because all the cars here are crashed together. Thousands of vehicles are haphazardly crammed together, stretching out for two to three kilometers, with no one to manage or care for them. A thick layer of Marcus dust has settled on them, making it look like they've been abandoned for years. Occasionally, through the shattered car windows, one might glimpse one or two skeletons inside, but most are incomplete, missing either arms or heads. The blood splattered inside the cars has long turned a deep brown, caking the windows.
It has been a whole year since the arrival of humanity's doomsday, but time seems to have been enchanted, forever frozen in that last second without change.
On that day, doomsday arrived. People fled in panic, driving or stealing cars to escape their homes, flailing about like headless flies. There was no government, no army. Watching friends and family turn into mindless, flesh-eating monsters, everyone was terrified. Vehicles crashed into each other, human limbs and severed arms flew everywhere, and there were monsters with red eyes searching for prey.
Desperate cries, angry roars, and painful wails—sounds that could only be heard in movies played out unabashedly in every corner of the world, continuing for over a month before gradually subsiding. But what followed was a deathly silence across the globe; it became hard to see a truly living person, only soulless corpses wandering aimlessly.
The young man numbly looked at the black, dried liquid covering the floor of the small shop, with several human skeletons scattered about, so disjointed that even a forensic expert couldn't piece them together. The shelves that once held goods had collapsed to the side, covered in dust, making it impossible to discern their original appearance. It seemed that both inside and outside the shop maintained the same eerie and quiet atmosphere as the rest of the world.
He pulled out a few cigarettes from a miraculously preserved glass display case, casually tore open a "Ninety-Five Supreme" for himself, and lit it up. Fortunately, since doomsday began, it rarely rained worldwide—only two or three sparse showers in a year—so many items that are hard to preserve remained intact thanks to the dry air, just like this high-end cigarette in front of him.
Stuffing every pack of cigarettes from the display case into his backpack, the young man carefully checked his shotgun again and stood up, heading toward the back room of the shop. It seemed that was where the shop stored its goods.
As he lifted the dirty curtain and slowly pushed open the wooden door with a shotgun, the young man did not rush inside. He had already noticed several clear footprints on the dusty floor, but the footprints were scattered haphazardly, as if an impatient person had been pacing back and forth in the room.
"Hiss…"
A hoarse low growl, a small figure rushed out from around the corner. With gray-white hair, dark red eyes, a mouth full of sharp teeth, and dry skin, this was indeed the most numerous type of creature in the world today—living corpses!
The young man pressed the shotgun against the small living corpse's shriveled chest, preventing it from getting close despite its clawing and biting. He did not pull the trigger immediately; instead, he tilted his head to examine the small living corpse before him. It was clear that this living corpse had still been a seven or eight-year-old child when it transformed. The Marcus-colored gray vest it wore was already filthy, and its once innocent little face was now twisted with ferocity, its mouth full of black steel teeth that clicked ominously.
The young man's hesitation to pull the trigger was not out of mercy. In this world where order had long since collapsed, any hint of mercy was a form of irresponsibility. No one needed mercy now; his reluctance to shoot was merely due to curiosity about the rarity of such a small living corpse. Children, without a doubt, had the weakest self-protection abilities, and after the streets were filled with living corpses, they became the easiest targets. However, once the young man's curiosity was satisfied, he unhesitatingly turned the gun and smashed the small living corpse's fragile neck.
The small living corpse's head tilted grotesquely, its back touching its own spine, and it fell stiffly onto the dust-covered wooden floor. The ferocity on its face disappeared, replaced by a look of serene relief!
The room was indeed a storage place, but the small living corpse that lived here clearly had a bad temper. Everything had been torn apart and scattered, with not a single item remaining intact. After just a glance, the young man lost interest and turned to leave the rural shop.
Stepping outside, the sun was still scorching, seemingly spreading its warmth to the fullest. Now, the daylight lasted over eighteen hours a day, and even the arrival of night was hard-won. However, even if the situation were to worsen, the surviving humans still had to find a way to survive. When pushed to the brink, the astonishing adaptability that humans exhibited was often not much less than that of cockroaches.
A red shadow dashed from around the corner like lightning, and its uncontrollable momentum caused it to skid in front of the young man, leaving a long muddy trail. Yet, the shadow still scrambled towards him, excitedly saying, "Master, master, I saw a complete Land Rover up ahead; let's choose that one!"
"No way!" the young man firmly rejected, continuing to walk forward as he said, "That kind of vehicle consumes too much fuel; it's simply impractical. We need to find a car with fuel consumption below ten!"
"Anyway, we might have to change cars again later. Can't you pick a nicer one? You only choose junk! I think a tractor would be more fuel-efficient!" The large red dog stomped its foot in frustration on a concrete block, which was about twenty centimeters thick, and surprisingly shattered it into pieces with ease, leaving onlookers dumbfounded.
But at this moment, a living corpse with a shriveled body probably smelled the scent of a living person, and staggered out of a restaurant with mottled walls. It followed the scent and looked at the big dog on the ground with empty eyes. It seemed that there was a flash of excitement. It roared and walked twice as fast.
"Go away, didn't you see that Master Mi was in a bad mood?" The big red dog glanced at the expressionless living corpse very impatiently. The living corpse was still waving its arms excitedly, as if it regarded the big dog in front of it as its big meal today.
"Get away as far as you want." The big dog yelled and waved its claws angrily at the living corpse. A red light flashed and the upper body of the living corpse, which was more than one meter away, slid diagonally away from the lower body. A large amount of black thick liquid and rotting internal organs spurted out from the living corpse's body, exuding a strong corpse smell in the air.
"Uh-huh~ You're really dirty, so I won't play with you anymore." The big red dog wrinkled his face and glanced at the living corpse still dragging half of his body on the ground with disgust. He grinned and hurried towards his master...