86_86324 I walked out of the guest house, and the sun outside was just right, and I squinted at the sun. Standing on the street, I looked around, and sure enough, it was a very small town, only a main road crossed in front of me, and there were several small Chang'an and three-wheeled trucks on the potholed road, and a white plastic bag was flying on the road with the wind, and finally hung on a bicycle parked on the side of the road.

As far as the eye could see, the roller shutters were drawn down on both sides of the street, and I could smell several putrid smells coming from them, and I had no intention of disturbing them, I just wanted to get out of here as quickly as possible.

From memory, I walked down the potholed road to a concrete bridge, and the cement bridge above me was the highway. Last night I had come to this town by biting my torch and climbing the dirt slope in front of me. The potholed road underfoot and the highway overhead are staggered at right angles, winding all the way to no idea where it leads. Of course, it had nothing to do with me, I strode over the drainage ditch on the side of the road, ran the dirt slope in front of me in a few clicks, and then crossed the iron fence, and I was back on the highway. In addition to the smoother road under his feet, the morning breeze also blew a large rancid smell.

A car stuck in traffic appeared in front of me, with its doors wide open. Through the car window, you can see four corpses sitting inside, the faces of the corpses seem to have been cut with a knife, and the bones inside are decaying, and it is long time impossible to distinguish the appearance before birth. An even stronger rancid smell was wafting out of the car, and the nausea immediately came over me, and I leaned against the door and retched in pain. Fortunately, I didn't eat breakfast and didn't throw up anything.

I slammed the door shut and continued to squeeze into the pile.

I pinched my nose and said that I would leave for the night so that I would not make my body react. I adjusted my breathing as I walked, controlling the amount of inhalation each time, each time more and more, and finally I breathed naturally and it was not so uncomfortable. That's what I've been saying for a few days. After walking a few steps, a dark green plaque caught my eye, and when I looked up, I was still twenty kilometers away from the city I was going to. It's almost there.

In the direction I was going, a long line of cars was stuck in the highway. This long dragon is a guarantee of my survival. For two weeks, with the exception of service stations on the highway and supermarkets in some towns, it was this messy convoy that kept me alive.

As soon as I ran out of supplies, I would hammer a hole in the window of the car, then open the door and scavenge for the supplies inside. More often than not, the doors are unlocked at all, providing me with a safe place to rest at night. The corpses in the car are a problem, though, and even if you can hold back the nausea and move them out of the car, I promise, the residual smell inside will make your face turn green for a few minutes, let alone falling asleep. So a lot of times I spend a lot of time trying to find a clean car for me to rest in the evening.

I was about to reach my destination, and a lot of supplies might be in the car right in front of me, but I still had enough food and water in my backpack and I didn't want to waste any more time in the car. So I climbed on the roof of the car, climbed over the lane barrier of the highway, went down another lane without cars, and jogged in the direction of the city.

What is it like to walk in such an environment? It's actually simple and hard to describe. The whole world is almost all that is left of your own footsteps. You have absolute freedom to do whatever you want and take whatever you want.

However, there are many things that are so simple that you can't do them alone. For example, I want to talk to someone. I have heard before that if a person does not speak for a certain period of time and cannot hear the conversation of others, he will lose the ability to speak for a long time. In order not to become mute, I would talk to myself every day, or memorize something, and I would sing along with the player on the days when my phone was charged.

On the highway, except for the "buzzing" sound of flies on a sunny day, there is no longer the whistling of cars in the past. When there is no human being, you can appreciate how quiet the natural world is. You're going to be talking to yourself and your other self inside you, and I promise you can't bear to make any noise to break that tranquility. When you have to knock on the window of a car or the glass door of a supermarket, the discordant sound cuts through time and space, and then quickly disappears into time and space, in addition to guilt, there will be a huge sense of loneliness.

It's fine in broad daylight, at least I can keep walking to distract myself. At night, it's the hardest time.

I once read an interview about a man sailing alone on a boat like an inky night, and the ocean around him was as flat as a mirror, and that feeling was so lonely that it was going crazy. I think that's pretty much what I feel when I sleep in the car every night. Turn on the overhead lights in the car, and there is darkness and silence outside the window, and you will feel that you are not on the highway, but an island in the middle of the ocean, and every qiē food around you is swallowed by the darkness.

For the first few days, I would continue to convince myself of my previous worldview, convincing myself that if I persevered, I would be saved. But what I saw in the next few days made me feel that I had no hope of seeing a living person again.

In short, every day I talk to myself, the less I expect to go home. Every day I see a lot of man-made facilities, whether it's a village next to a highway or a gas station that falls on the ground, the world is still the way it used to be, but you just can't find a living person. You will wonder if humanity has suddenly evaporated from the earth, only these man-made facilities and corpses lying under your feet always remind you of what human society used to be.

I was running at a very slow pace on this empty highway, and just as I was estimating how long it would take to reach the city, a car siren suddenly sounded behind me. My scalp was numb, and I almost fell to the ground as I steadied my steps. For the first time in two weeks, I heard an artificial sound that wasn't made by doing it myself. For a moment I froze in place, and I didn't react until the alarm stopped.

Then there was a sound similar to the sole of a shoe hitting the hood of a car.

I immediately turned my head to look at the place where the sound was coming from, and I saw a figure standing on the roof of the car in the back right.

"Who?" For some reason, I felt a wave of ecstasy in my heart, and I reflexively roared. There were seconds of silence, and no one answered me. The voice sounded again, and the figure stepped onto the roof of another car, trying to escape from my sight. I was immediately sure that I wasn't dazzled, that I was definitely a living person.

I immediately stepped into the adjacent lane barrier to find out. The man seemed to have fallen on the roof of the car, and there was a dull thud and an "ahh

It's really a living person, and it's still a woman to listen to the voice. I didn't think much of it, and quickly climbed over another bar. I felt my heart beat faster, and it didn't matter who he was, whether he was male or female, and I wanted to find a living person to say a few words and see a face that could still make expressions. A second after this thought, I poked my head out of the barrier and saw a figure standing up from the top of a car about five or six meters away from me.

"Don't move!" I said to him in a commanding tone. At the same time, he pulled my whole body out of the barrier. His movements froze instantly, and then he slowly turned towards me, and I noticed that he was pulling a fruit knife from his backpack.

He pulled out his shoulder-length short hair and looked at me, and when I looked closely, it was really a girl. The girl was carrying a brightly colored backpack and a dark coat, and the jeans on her legs were worn out on purpose or by scratch, with several holes torn. The little leather boots on my feet, stained with mud and dust, must have walked as much as I did. At a glance, I knew that this girl was about the same age as me, the type that you can see everywhere in college, but she was still beautiful.

She clutched the fruit knife and kept looking at me.

After about half a minute of staring at each other, I finally couldn't help but break the silence.

"You, live here?" I asked a question that I found strange. She shook her head expressionlessly, her eyes gripping at me. I continued to look at her, not knowing what to say