blogombal Chapter 1122 The Amnesiac Black Panther and His Poor Little Beauty (3)
Chapter 1122 The Amnesiac Black Panther and His Poor Little Beauty (3)
The Amnesiac Black Panther and His Poor Little Beauty (Part 3)
Song Ning calmed down in just ten seconds, then pulled the small metal piece through the bed sheet and slashed it cleanly, throwing the thing under the bed.
Then he wiped the blood off his hands with the sheet and calmly glanced around the room.
There was a large wardrobe. He quickly opened it and pulled out a backpack.
With a quick touch, Song Ning picked out two durable clothes and stuffed them into his backpack. He then grabbed a wool coat and draped it over his shoulders. He even squeezed in three pairs of wool socks and put on the shoes that were by Li Dabiao's bedside.
A long-awaited warmth swept over her, and Song Ning became even calmer.
He rummaged through the bedside table, stuffed all the food inside into the side pocket of his backpack, and ate the food he couldn't take with him with water. He also unexpectedly found a lighter that still worked.
After stuffing the lighter away, Song Ning glanced at the other things in the room, stuffed the drainpipe in, and then decisively began to dismantle the window.
His hands moved swiftly, yet his expression remained utterly calm.
From the first day he arrived at this base, he thought every day about what to do if something like this happened, and how he could escape to another base.
So when Li Dabiao's house was being renovated, he deliberately gave the person in charge a small favor and personally arranged for the windows to be installed.
After removing the window that had long been leaky, Song Ning, carrying a light backpack, leaped out and crawled forward on the ground.
After moving about fifty meters, Song Ning looked around the corner.
A red dot appeared faintly on the high ground not far away. A look of joy flashed across Song Ning's face. He scrambled to his feet and ran away as fast as he could!
After running a few hundred meters, the dilapidated houses, crooked and crooked, were barely visible in the darkness, because no one inside lit candles.
Song Ning glanced at them once, then turned and rushed past the houses without looking back, running straight out of the base!
Why does it sound like someone is running outside?
Someone inside the dark room said something in confusion, then peeked out.
A gust of wind blew, and the dark clouds were blown away, allowing the faint moonlight to fall on the earth. A thin figure was running desperately in the night, looking so conspicuous.
The man stared at the figure with his mouth agape; he recognized who it was.
"...Stop looking, go back to sleep."
Someone was standing next to him at some point. The two equally thin figures looked at the wind, which seemed to be free, in the night. The latter gently patted the shoulder of the person next to him.
"He had no other choice. It's better to go out and die than to be tortured here."
"...What are you talking about? I just came out for some fresh air, I didn't see anything."
"I didn't say anything. I'm the kind of person who sleepwalks and talks in my sleep."
The clouds covered the moon again, and there was no more movement at the base.
Everyone was awakened when the big guy, who had finished smoking and returned home, let out a terrified howl.
"what------"
A long howl echoed from his chest as Song Ning raced through the night, the free wind carrying the stench of yellow earth and zombies into his mouth.
He quickly shut his mouth, and only his legs ran wildly in the moonlight.
Song Ning didn't even know how long he had been running; he only knew that he had only one thought in his mind.
He would rather die outside and be eaten by zombies than go back to living that kind of life of constant anxiety. In fact, would his death be a kind of relief?
With this in mind, he kept running, drinking water when thirsty, taking a break when tired, and eating what was in his backpack when hungry.
He ran along the open field to the right of the base until the sun was high in the sky, then collapsed on the ground, exhausted, and passed out.
He's too tired. Let him live or die here in the hands of fate.
Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.
The sunlight, the dazzling, scorching sunlight, shone on his body, followed by the familiar dryness in his mouth, which completely woke Song Ning from his coma.
He's so thirsty, he wants to drink water.
He carefully sipped the last two drops of water from the water bottle he had been clutching tightly in his hand, and Song Ning fully woke up and began to examine his current state.
He was in a desolate city ruin. The city ruins looked empty and deserted. Not far away, the wreckage of seventy or eighty old cars was piled up together, which even made Song Ning recall some memories from more than ten years ago that he thought he had forgotten.
When the apocalypse first arrived, many people thought of driving their families and belongings to escape the danger. However, it wasn't until soon after that people realized that this decision was the worst possible one given the population density.
Many people even die directly in car accidents, just like what's happening right now.
"...There's nothing good about living now. Rather than struggling through this kind of life, this is actually a peaceful kind of liberation for you."
He stood beside the car with a complicated expression, murmured a mournful word, and then left without hesitation.
Song Ning never expected to survive, especially since he chose the right-hand path from the base to escape.
In the ruins, one could still vaguely see some of the things that looked like they were before the apocalypse. Song Ning carefully and cautiously hid his body in various dark corners and moved forward slowly, his mind racing.
"Did Li Dabiao and the others do this on purpose?"
He deliberately said that going out to the left of the base would be safe and he wouldn't encounter any zombies, but in fact he ran all the way out from the right side of the base gate. It was completely different from the danger he had imagined. He didn't even encounter a single zombie in this direction.
As Song Ning pondered, a hint of melancholy suddenly appeared on her face.
If someone else besides him wanted to escape from the base, would they choose the same route as him?
If I make a different choice, will I be taken back by Li Dabiao's men?
He suddenly shook his head violently, slapping his cheeks until they were slightly red.
"Stop thinking about it, Song Ning. You can barely survive on your own. Stop thinking about others and think about what to do next."
"Let's figure out how to get the resources to keep him alive first," Song Ning thought. He looked up at the bright sun in the sky, then found a short-sleeved shirt and wrapped it around his head, leaving only his eyes showing.
More than a decade has passed since the apocalypse. The current climate has long days and short nights, and huge temperature differences between day and night. Although it is October now, the daytime temperature is basically over 40 degrees Celsius. The temperature only drops slightly after the sun starts to set around 7 pm.
Now that he no longer needed to be wary of Li Dabiao, Song Ning finally treated his face a little better, which was a rare treat.
After doing all that, Song Ning felt a long-lost sense of comfort as the moisture from her breath sprayed onto her clothes, dampening her dry cheeks.
He gritted his teeth and made up his mind that as long as he could find a way to survive in the wild, he would never go back to any base to continue living those days of fear and trembling.
A very faint 'click' sounded behind me.
Song Ning suddenly turned around abruptly, the hairs on his arms, which were covered by long sleeves, stood on end, and his pupils dilated to the extreme.
What's there?!