The sky gradually darkened, even the last trace of the dying sunset afterglow was swallowed up in the deep darkness, the lonely night gradually invaded every inch of the sky, through the mottled and blurred glass window, it was impossible to see whether there were twinkling stars in the night sky outside the window, the huge reading room, silence, penetrated every corner. Pen × fun × Pavilion www. ｂｉｑｕｇｅ。 ｉｎｆｏ

I picked up a chair that had fallen to the floor, moved the uneven legs, and sat down with my back against a bookcase.

On the night of the power outage, there was no backup generator.

The night, little by little, swallowed every corner of silence, silent, growing, brewing uneasiness that was not noticed.

The "thugs" casually threw a few books to the ground and lit matches, lighting the only light source in the reading room.

This brings me to a phrase.

[Books can always help mankind, no matter when]

Outside the window, the church was shrouded in darkness with no light source, and occasionally faint screams could be heard, which suddenly rang out, but gradually disappeared into the lifeless building. The spire, the stone bricks, every inch of the church space is immersed in an eerie atmosphere, and several vague figures silently flash from behind the floor-to-ceiling windows of the church, wandering, aimless, mutilated, walking dead, as if trying to grope for a warm fire from this darkness, embrace, spontaneous combustion.

I watched as Irene, who was a few steps away, silently wrapping a strip of cloth around Andrew's injured arm.

There didn't seem to be any other medical tools in the building where the books were stored, the only thing that would come in handy was a jar of disinfectant that was no longer legible, and Erin tore Andrew's coat into small strips of cloth, slowly bypassing the torn wound. Her back was to the firelight, her thin figure shrouded in shadows, and her lips occasionally twitched, as if to tell something. But the object of the admonition always closed his eyes unmoved, as if all this had nothing to do with him.

Once again, Andrew succeeded in refresh my understanding of human endurance.

The disinfectant water was sprinkled on the bloody wound, and some white bubbles came out of the "Zizi" wound, which sounded chilling, and with the winding of the strips of cloth, each circle, was pulling the blood vessels that could be ruptured again at any time, and he was not lightly injured, and there was already a pool of blood under the arm he was carrying. But he didn't even move the muscles of his face, and his breath was calm, blending into the silence around him.

I curled up slightly, my legs on the chair, my knees folded, and my eyes swept over the faces that were slightly illuminated by the firelight...... James sat behind the largest desk in front of the bookcase on the left, under his black hat was a pair of deep eyes faintly illuminated by the firelight, the corners of his eyes were already full of wrinkles, but those eyes revealed an incomprehensible depth. His elbows rested on his desk, the tips of his nose resting on his crossed hands, the firelight illuminating the side of his face, as if a strategist contemplating the next step in a chess game. On his left hand side, the woman with the smoke ring extinguished the cigarette butt and still leaned against the window frame to look sideways at the night sky outside the black railing, her golden curls draped over her shoulders, her white shirt, her sleeves rolled up casually, she turned her face sideways, my eyes brushed her cheeks, and I saw the windswept treetops outside the glass window.

The pale-faced man sat against the bookcase with a rifle in his arms, his head slightly bowed, his eyes wandering, secretly watching everyone's every move. The "thug" sat unceremoniously on the table, his right hand resting on his propped right leg, dangling his left leg, the rifle on his left hand, he biting a toothpick from nowhere, the firelight illuminating his increasingly irritated expression. The straight-haired black woman beside him straightened up and hammered her sore waist from sitting for a long time, stretched her arms slightly, and then changed her sitting position, she leaned back in the chair, her right hand leaned against the cold wooden table, the firelight reflected the soft lines of her cheeks, and her deep and three-dimensional facial features, even if the fire was dim, she could vaguely see that she was a beauty.

On the other table to the right, the little girl still bowed her head, her little right hand holding half of the crayons of my indistinct color, and on her left hand lay some crumpled papers, back side up, as if prepared for her to draw. Behind her, the man was still in the same position, his back against the bookcase and his eyes closed, he was wearing a black jacket lined with a T-shirt, a few strands of black hair hanging down on his forehead, the firelight flickered a little, as if sensing my gaze, he opened his eyes without hurry, turned his head slightly to meet my gaze.

I was stunned for a moment.

He looked to be in his early twenties, and his eyes were a beautiful amber color, clear and deep, and he could see through all my thoughts in a second. The firelight slightly illuminated his face, the bridge of his nose was high, his lips pursed, and he looked at me silently, his eyes as calm as a lake in late autumn.

At this moment, I felt as if I heard the sound of an ancient music box quietly turning.

heavy, wrapped in an inexplicable sense of familiarity, but mixed with a bit of sadness.

"Crackling ......"

The flames jumped and flickered.

"Tear-"

When I came back to my senses, I saw the "thugs" tearing off a few pages of the book and throwing them in the fire, and the tongue of fire **** the dry pages, burning more vigorously.

"This is a damn place." He cursed and ripped off a few more pages.

"Give."

A boy's voice interrupted my thoughts, and I looked back to see the bespectacled boy walking up to me at some point. He bent down slightly, his left hand on his left knee, and handed me a dark jug to me curled up in a chair. There were a few drops of dark red splashes on the neckline of his gray shirt, and the corners of his hair were a little messy, and I smelled a little of the scroll coming from him, and I was silent for a moment, and took the jug he handed me.

"Are your wounds alright?" The boy picked up another chair and sat down next to me.

I looked at the blood that had coagulated on my arm.

"Out of the way." I unscrewed the lid of the kettle and took a sip of water, the water with a bit of disinfectant smell poured into my somewhat sticky throat, I subconsciously glanced at the man just now, but he had already looked away and looked at the little girl in front of him who was concentrating on painting with his back to him.

"James says your name is Vera, Vera ......," he frowned slightly.

"Lancelot."

"Oh, yes, I'm sorry I forgot about it." He laughed wryly.

I pursed the corners of my lips and smiled back.

"It's okay, I forgot about it."

"What?"

"Well, I mean, my name isn't easy to remember." I said with a little embarrassment, like I had just told a bad joke.

After a few more sips, I screwed the lid on, and saw Erin standing up with the bottle of disinfectant without a label, as if telling Andrew, who still looked deaf. I pursed the corners of my lips, turned my face to the side and handed the jug to the boy next to me, smiling politely.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome." He took the kettle and nodded slightly.

I leaned against the bookcase, the hard cowhide book back was a little sloppy, and my curled feet were a little sore, but I used this feeling to remind myself to stay awake.

"Nice to meet you, my name is Colin Keynes. I was in middle school in a neighboring town, and I came to visit my aunt today and accompany her to church services, but I didn't expect ......" The boy paused, and some bad memories filled his heart. I turned my face sideways, looking at his young face, slightly illuminated by the firelight, and guessed that he was probably no more than sixteen or seventeen years old, with a high-height round eye, and a thin and weak body covered with a coat, and a somewhat disheveled collar that had been turned out, stained with dried blood.

He must have experienced something unimaginable.

I was silent.

I'm lucky, at least, the mutated monsters have nothing to do with me, but maybe his aunt or some other relative has become a zombie wandering outside the building, with an instinctive thirst for blood and life, and wants to kill all the prey they can catch. Even, once included him in the recipe.

I began to reconsider whether it was a good thing to lose my memory.

“…… At that time, I was trapped in the toilet, the wooden door was opened by the zombies, I stood on the toilet lid, trying to escape by climbing through the window, but I was not tall enough, I could only desperately call for help towards the window of the toilet, the zombie's hands were almost grabbing my clothes, but still no one reached in from the window to pull me" Colin shook his head, as if trying to erase those bad memories, "...... It was Hale who saved me, smashing a zombie's head through a large hole with a steel hose, plunging the sharp other end into the zombie's eye socket before it could attack. ”

I listened to his retelling with a slight tremor.

"Later he told me that there was only one solution to these things, and that was to destroy their brains."

"Hall?" I frowned slightly in confusion.

"That's him......" Colin raised his left hand, and following his fingertips, I looked at the man sitting behind the little girl.

He sat silently, a few strands of brown hair on his forehead, his eyes always resting on the girl with two pigtails in front of him, he didn't move, like a patron saint.

"His name is Hall......"

"Well, Hall Howard. The little girl sitting in front of him and drawing was his sister, Claire. She's not a talker, I haven't heard her voice so far, she seems to be drawing, using crayons that Wayne stumbled upon in the trash. ”

"Wayne?"

"It's the man with the rifle." Colin's hand moved slightly, and I followed his direction to look in his direction at the man sitting by the bookcase, peering at the crowd. When he broke into the library, he was one of the two men with rifles, and now he was huddled in the corner, like a well-guarded hedgehog, with a pair of black eyes cautiously probing, alert, guarded.

Wayne Brooke. I think he's a bit neurotic, and since he's been here, he's always liked to be alone in the corner and snoop, and any movement could keep him on guard. Colin added, "James said Wayne had come to church this morning with a couple of choir kids to practice the carols, but ...... When he arrived, he was alone, sticking a sharpened stick into the zombie's throat and pressing it against the fence, and James let Wayne, covered in blood, through the back door. ”

I nodded silently, noncommittal.

"Who's that girl?" My eyes fell on the girl sitting on the windowsill, who looked about my age.

Colin leaned slightly to the side, his gaze brushing my back to see who I was pointing at.

"Her name seems to be Tina, Tina Stuart ......"

I turned my head to see Colin with his chin in his right hand, like a detective in serious thought.

"She didn't like to talk either, she sat on the windowsill alone and smoked all afternoon, and she was already sitting there when I arrived at the library with Hall and Claire, and she was the third person to arrive at the library."

"The third?"

"Hmm."

"James said he was the first to arrive, so who was the second to arrive?"

Colin thought for a few seconds.

"It's Vic."

"Vic?"

"It's the man with the pigtails, James said his full name is Vic Eden, and he heard the voice just now, and Wayne was holding a gun and trying to get you away, but James made his own judgment."

I glanced disdainfully at the thug sitting at the table yawning.

That scumbag.

"The woman sitting next to him knocking on the table was Joanna Austin, and she found it after we arrived, when she was being chased by a zombie that was almost pulling her hair, and her mink coat was stained with blood, which was said to be her boyfriend's blood. Vic shot the zombie in the head, and he didn't think this Joanna was of any use other than to go to bed......"

Colin lowered his voice, trying not to disturb the silence of the space.

…… It's a bastard's words.

"Finally, Erin Cotton, you should already know her, she said that she was a doctor at the Central Hospital, and she received an emergency call and rushed to this area to help the injured, but she didn't expect the zombie outbreak and she fled here."

I nodded, motioning for Colin to look at Andrew.

"His name is Andrew. Andrew Gray. ”

I looked at Andrew's face illuminated by the firelight and added without hurry.

"I was trapped in the confessional of the church by zombies, and he saved me......"

"He looks strong......"

"It's true, it's just not very good-tempered."

……

"Andrew, I want to ask you a question." A deep voice interrupted my whispering with Colin, and I turned my head to see James staring at Andrew.

I followed James's gaze and saw Andrew open his eyes without hurry.

"Say."

"Why did you choose to come here?"

The air seemed to freeze for a moment.

The curly-haired girl sitting on the windowsill turned her face sideways to look at Andrew, I glanced to the left and saw the man named Wayne slightly arched and peeped at me, and that's when I realized that everyone except the little girl who was drawing was staring at me and Andrew's answer.

Andrew stared at James impassively and did not speak.

James was not in a hurry, and just sat behind his desk, quietly waiting for his answer.

Vic picked up the rifle on the table with his left hand and spit out the toothpick in his mouth.

"What about you?" I narrowed my eyes and asked.

Everyone has chips in their hands, but we're never going to be the first to show our cards.

"We have to verify one thing." James avoided answering, "You'd better cooperate." ”

Vic straightened up and jumped off the table, standing in front of it, the firelight illuminating the black body of the gun, and the expression on his lips that he didn't mind killing a few more people.

I looked at him and felt an inexplicable chill creep up in my heart.

Not because of the rifle in his hand at the moment, but because of the imperceptible chill in his eyes.

Let me feel déjà vu.

"Hmph." Andrew sneered.

This sneer seemed to be a precursor to his preparation for killing.

"Scraps that have nothing to do with the chess game, must be abandoned." James's face grimaced, and his gentle face vanished.

“…… James, how do you know it's not you who has been abandoned? I asked rhetorically in a calm voice.

Vic spat at his feet, chin slightly raised and gun as he walked towards me.

I clenched my fists and shrunk back in my chair, defensive.

Feast of Dismemberment......

"Squeak......" There was a grinding sound of a chair beside me, and I caught a glimpse of Colin unconsciously moving his chair back a little.

Retracting my gaze, I looked at Vic, who had a dangerous look in his eyes.

"Bang dang." Andrew stood up and tore off the chair in an instant.

He leaned sideways, holding a gun in his left hand, in the direction of Vic.

"Click." Vic grinned and raised his rifle.

"Look, old man, I'll say you're wrong."

James did not answer him.

"Spotted Dog, you're killing yourself." Andrew coldly threatened.

"Damn, I want you to never speak again!"

"Dah. Click. Joanna tapped on the table.

"You can try it."

", don't think I dare!"

The smell of gunpowder spread, and it seemed that the next moment it was about to go off.

"Enough!"