In fact, Andrew's leg injury is much more serious than it seems. Pen, fun, pavilion www. biquge。 info

I helped him to follow the route he had written down through the dimly lit corridors, the weight of his upper body leaning on me, it felt like he was being pressed against his right shoulder by a large rock, and the shoulder was a little numb, but I didn't dare to leave his crooked body a little, his right leg was completely unable to exert force, and he had to limp forward.

Feeling some sticky sweat on my neck, I raised my hand to wipe it away, and looked silently at the corner a few steps ahead.

Luckily, we were in a church rather than a school, and the corridors were generally deserted, except for the halls where people often worshipped or other rooms for rest. The doors of the rooms on both sides of the corridor were closed, and some of the doors were soaked with blood and stained red with white tiles, and I helped him walk for a while, and I watched him grit his teeth and turn a little pale, and proposed to rest in the utility room under the stairs in front of me to treat his wounds. Not only Andrew's leg wound, but also our arms were pierced by glass shards all over the floor, and blood left little marks behind us along our arms.

"You're heavy." I glanced at Andrew, who was halfway leaning against me, and his voice was calm.

His gaze swept over me, an expression of naturalness and enjoyment.

"Little girl, you lack exercise."

"Don't call me a little girl."

"Why?"

"I'm not young anymore." I paused for a moment and lowered my voice, "Probably." ”

I'm telling the truth.

There was no more of his muffled voice, and I guessed what he would think of the so-called "probably".

I didn't want to hide it from him, I didn't know anything about my old self.

"You think you're an adult?" Andrew's voice was close.

Why the word "feel"?

I glanced up at him, his eyes still calm as water, and he didn't seem to think there was anything wrong with his words.

"Hmm."

"Why?"

“…… Not why. ”

For I seem to be married, and my husband's name is Sid.

Although this is an unknown country, ...... I don't think it's open enough to allow underage marriage.

Andrew seemed to let out a low "um" and didn't intend to go deeper.

"It's my turn."

"What?"

"Why do you call me 'little girl'?" I helped him around a dark corner, the cold and wet air, the ground seemed to be contaminated with the humidity of the air, I didn't take a step to stand still, I almost slipped, Andrew held on to the wall beside me, and divided a little weight of my body to keep me on my feet.

"Thank you." I helped him on.

He didn't speak again.

I remained silent, waiting for him to reply.

"In my opinion, you're just a little girl."

"Why?"

"You're much younger than me."

This sentence made me a little curious.

"How old are you?" I looked at him sideways, noticed a slight wrinkle in the corners of his eyes, and secretly set a number in my mind.

As if he had seen through my thoughts, he seemed to be able to see everything around him even if he was looking ahead.

"Don't guess, you guessed wrong."

"Tell me about it."

He paused for a few seconds.

"Thirty-seven."

I'm noncommittal.

"Guess right?"

"Younger than I thought."

"How old do you think I am?"

"Fifty."

He snorted softly, and for the rest of the journey, neither of us spoke again, each thinking about our own affairs, and seemed to gradually get used to silence.

"Click."

Hearing some strange sounds ahead, we stopped vigilantly.

Andrew leaned against the door and elbowed the door to unlock the pantry, and we flashed into the small pantry before we could get closer at the end of the hallway. The grocery room is dusty, and the square room is connected to a trapezoidal space with many wooden boxes under the stairs. Andrew leaned against the wall and found a place to sit in the trapezoidal space away from the door, coughing a little, whether it was dust or a lung injury.

"Pimp's den."

Here's how he summed it up.

I pushed the wooden boxes in the trapezoidal space against the door of the utility room, and glancing at them, I saw that they contained some faded or damaged metal utensils, two of which weighed enough to withstand the impact of a normal adult. But I wasn't sure if the power of the dead walking dead could be stopped by the wooden crates, and it was chilling to recall that the heavy impact far exceeded the explosive power of human muscles. With that in mind, I pushed a third chest and stacked it on top of both chests.

Andrew sat silently in the shadows, completely concealing his dark skin tone and shirt, and it might have been difficult to detect his presence if he hadn't opened his eyes occasionally.

In this huge church, the two of us are like a biological symbiosis.

I need to rely on his experience, and he needs to rely on me to maintain my mobility.

Let go of your inner doubts for a while and focus on survival.

We seem to have reached a tentative consensus.

"Do you feel better?" I walked over to him and sat down and watched as he slowly rolled up his right trouser leg.

In the dimly lit stairwell, there wasn't much light through the crack in the door, and as I got used to the dark eyes, I looked at his swollen ankle and a large bruise on the skin of his right leg. I opened my mouth, but I didn't know how to apologize at this point. He saved me twice, but this time it almost cost him his life because of my recklessness.

"Deal with your own wounds."

Andrew gives orders to the soldiers like a commander.

I backhanded, silently staring at the coagulated blood on the outside of my right arm. The fine glass slag pierced into the flesh, like silver needles, twisting the skin, and there were bursts of hot stinging. There was no bright light source to reflect the glass shards, so I gritted my teeth and fumbled to pull out the glass shards from the high muscle surfaces. Each time the glass slag was pulled out, the punctured blood vessel was pulled, and the small wound was slightly oozing blood.

The small grocery room sank into relative silence for a while.

From time to time, I looked up at him, squinting and tearing the pant leg of his right leg to tie up the red and swollen wound. Doing so will allow him to travel more distances in a short period of time.

I had some doubts in my heart, but I felt that the inquiry was a bit redundant.

Below my eyes, I pulled out the last of the glass thorns and wiped the blood from the wound with my hands.

Andrew silently handed over a long strip of cloth.

Knowing what he meant, I took the strip of cloth, bit one end of it, raised my arm, and wrapped it around the narrow wound on my arm.

For a while, we fell into a state of no intersection again.

"Say it." Andrew broke the silence first, "I know you have a lot of questions. ”

I looked up and saw him unfazedly wrapped around the strips of cloth, his ankles were very swollen, and there were large and small wounds on his calves, there was no disinfectant, he rolled up his trouser legs and simply cleaned the wounds, tearing off the remnants of the fabric that were sticking to the wounds, which caused these wounds to reopen, and blood came out again, but his calm expression at the moment did not show any pain.

"Three. I'll just answer you three questions. He looked up at me.

"Will you answer truthfully?"

"That's the first question?"

"It's not."

"If I think you should know, then I'll tell you the answer." His tone was calm and composed, like a good negotiator, in such a purgatory world, it is hard to imagine why his psychological defense line is so strong, not only can he face zombies without fear, but even face ghouls without any fear.

It's like a killing machine.

"First question, why are you going to the church library?"

Andrew lowered his head to bandage his injured leg, and I leaned in and helped him tie a knot in the strip of cloth.

"Scarlet. I was in the parking lot when I got out of the car and suddenly a zombie rushed over, I punched it off the bridge of its nose, I grabbed it by the neck and stuck its head in the window of the car......" Andrew paused slightly, "and that's when I saw the blood letters appear on the windshield of the car. ”

It's the same blood letter......

I was silent.

He also glanced at me and received some kind of prompt.

To go to that unknown place.

But how do you get these blood stains to emerge at a fixed point in time? The glass and window sills were covered with a thin layer of dust, and it didn't look like someone had ever touched it. It can't be the kidnappers who have already died, otherwise Andrew wouldn't have received such a message as well. Was this deliberate? It was like some deep and heavy call, calling their souls to gather to that place.

Is it possible for humans to do this?

Andrew leaned slightly and raised his right arm, and that's when I remembered that he had a long, narrow wound on his arm. I stood up and slowly pulled his injured arm out of his coat, he didn't snort, but the blood that kept staining his clothes red revealed that his wound was not optimistic.

I gritted my teeth and carefully peeled off the last cloth that stuck to the wound, his valgus wound was exposed in the air, pink leather and muscles, faintly visible blood vessels, Andrew moved his arm slightly, pulling the muscles of his arm, and the blood instantly overflowed the narrow wound, flowing down the muscles of his arm, and I was busy using the coat he took off to absorb the blood that kept oozing.

Slightly amazed at how well he tolerated the pain and how old he was, I wiped the blood from my skin, and by the dim light, I saw some black marks on his arms, and I turned the short-sleeved cuffs he was wearing up so that I didn't touch the wound, but when I turned the short-sleeved sleeves up, I saw the full tattoo of his arm.

I paused and silently glanced up at him.

He leaned against the wall, his face turned sideways, his eyes closed, and there was no expression of pain, even when he pulled the wound as he moved his arm, causing a second hemorrhage.

"Stop the bleeding the way I said it." Andrew glanced at the bleeding wound, all he had left was his other arm, which was able to move flexibly, but I somehow managed to keep his composure, as if the wound was not painful for him.

I pursed my lips and did as he commanded, cutting a strip of cloth from his coat with a blade in the utility room, and wrapping it around the near center of his arm. He calmly commanded every movement, down to every detail, to stop the bleeding, clean the wound, and pull out the wood chips and glass shards around the wound...... It's as if he had received professional bandaging and rescue training, and knew his injuries well. There was no disinfectant, so I had to wrap his wound with my clothes as a bandage after his bleeding had improved slightly, and the black jacket covered the smell of blood.

"You seem to be pretty good at bandaging wounds." I said nonchalantly.

"I've learned a little bit before." Andrew adjusted his sitting position slightly, so that his swollen right leg rested against his bent left leg and his back against the dusty stacked wooden box, he closed his eyes again, and I knew he was waiting for my second question.

"Second question, who am I?" I asked in a tone that could not be maneuvered.

“…… Why do you ask? ”

"Because you know."

"How can you tell I know."

I leaned forward slightly, lowering my voice.

"From the first time we met, until now, you have never asked my name, my experience, but you have saved me twice...... Andrew Gray, you must have some information about me. Is that right. ”

He was silent for a moment, but then he spoke as if in compromise.

"Yes, I do, but not much."

"Then tell me everything you know." There was some urgency in my tone.

I negotiated with this calm and powerful man, step by step, and I couldn't show a little bit of it.

Any clues related to me, I can't let go.

"Vera Lancelot."

Hearing him speak, I frowned in confusion and breathed for a moment.

"All I know is that your name is Vera Lancelot."

“…… Andrew, do you know Sid? I asked.

But Andrew frowned suspiciously, he looked at the low ceiling and thought for a long time, and shook his head.

His serious expression didn't look like he was lying, and he sat a little dejected, and I wrote down the name.

【Vera Lancelot】

"Who is Sid?" Andrew asked with some caution.

“…… I don't remember, probably, someone related to me. I shook my head.

He didn't answer again.

I bowed my head a little dazedly.

I was Vera, the kidnapped woman.

However, Vera Lancelot, that full name sounds unfamiliar. I frowned and tried to recall the memories associated with the name, but it was like another stranger's name, completely unrelated to my fate. It was like a door that was tightly hidden from the truth, and I wandered in the fog that I couldn't even reach the last door. There is no sense of direction, and the loneliness and silence that eats into the bone marrow.

"Little girl, what about the third question?"

"Why did you save me?" I asked without looking up.

"Entrusted by men." His voice came muffled from the front.

I looked up at him.

He saw the inquiry in my eyes, paused slightly, thought for a moment, and seemed to have made a decision.

“…… Now is not the time to tell you. ”

"He told you he was coming to the church to find me?"

“……”

"He only told you my name?"

“……”

“…… Are you employed? I looked at him in disbelief.

"Little girl, that's the sixth question." He blocked my question with this reply, "I'm not hiding it. ”

He spoke openly.

No, it's not.

Andrew must know something about the situation.

I looked at him silently, and instinctively felt that he was deliberately hiding something.

I believe that someone entrusted him to protect me, and that person must have known more about me, about the memories that I had completely lost, and even about who I was, where I came from, and the details about me that I had lost. But I don't believe that Andrew knows so much about the current situation. Although they didn't get along for long, he was not a reckless person, he had his own principles, and it was impossible to decide to act with less knowledge, not to mention almost sacrificing his life for the so-called "trust".

"Then you know ...... me" I paused slightly, took a breath, and some images that I had deliberately suppressed came to my mind, "Do you know that I was kidnapped?" ”

"Yes." Andrew said in the same tone, "I was going to save you, but by the time I found the kidnappers, they were already dead." He looked up at me, his eyes deep, as if he wanted to see through the secret buried in my heart.

It's easy to speculate that I killed them, at least, one of them, because his wounds weren't torn by zombies.

Thinking of the corpse with its entrails flowing all over the ground, I looked away.

"When I got to the hall, I saw a man banging frantically on the door of the confessional, and I think my prey was probably the same as his." He leaned slightly and shifted his weight to the left.

I sat next to him and watched as his smooth chest fell silent.

"Vera Lancelot, my mission is not to let you die." Andrew closed his eyes, as if he were repeating someone's words, "I don't need to know anything else." ”

He said like an emotionless robot.

I was silent, wiping the blood from the ends of my hair.

I don't know if he knows about my lost memories, I speculate about the duration of his so-called "protection", and who is the one who gives him orders behind his back? I silently thought back to Andrew's agility, and the average person would never have the guts to provoke a behemoth like a ghoul, but his agile movements and professional bandaging knowledge showed that he was professionally trained, and it was likely that someone had paid Andrew a handsome sum of money to hire him to participate in my unknown life...... More and more bubbles surfaced one after another about my real situation, but every time I thought I was infinitely close to the truth, those bubbles burst and turned into an even darker haze.

I lowered my eyes, picked up the pistol beside me, and retracted it from my waist.

“…… Someday you'll tell me right, about the person who entrusted you. ”

"If I haven't forgotten." Andrew replied truthfully.