The boy woke up suddenly, and it was pitch black in front of him.

Before he could calm down, a disgusting rancid smell crept into his nostrils, and there seemed to be something around him. He couldn't bear it, so he brushed aside the black object in front of him with both hands and quickly got up.

At dusk, the sunset light reflected on his face, stabbing the young man from opening his eyes. He blocked it in front of him with his hand, and it took him a long time to get used to it, and he was curious where the rancid smell came from, and when he looked back, he felt a tumbling in his stomach and almost vomited.

It's a town street with houses made of stone but empty. The black cloth that lined up on both sides of the street was exactly what had just been covered on the face. The black cloth that had been lifted revealed the faces of two men, who looked dead, their faces covered in black sores.

The boy finally couldn't take it anymore, and hunched up and threw up on the street, his body swaying, and his eyes were dizzy. He finally recovered and looked in horror at both sides, and there were corpses under the black cloth, and he had just been lying side by side with them.

Thinking of this, he was nauseous again, retching a few times, but his stomach was empty, and he couldn't vomit anything anymore. After the nausea, the boy looked down in a daze, only to see that he was wearing a gray linen coat, brown straw pants and cloth shoes.

He reached out again to touch his face, and his cheekbones were slightly sunken, not festering. This made him breathe a sigh of relief, but also raised questions.

What is this place?

The boy looked around, the town was empty, and the style of the buildings seemed strange to him. He tried to remember, but couldn't remember anything, as if it was a strange body, filled with a blank soul.

The boy panicked, restlessly walked back and forth, and finally crouched on the ground in pain, his hands pulling at his hair. He was afraid, this strange world, the piles of dead people on both sides of the street, was eating away at his mind every second.

He asked himself: ...... Who is it?

A low, faint voice suddenly sounded in my head, like a call from the bottom of the sea, and like a whisper in my ear. The voice lasted for a few seconds, and finally became very harsh, as if an indescribable light and shadow had blinded the boy.

When he came to his senses, the boy shuddered violently and whispered to himself, "Lorne...... Green?"

He didn't know what language he spoke, but he felt so close and familiar. He didn't know who was talking in his head, but now he figured out his name: Lorne Green.

But Lorne still had no clue about the world, about what had happened before. Confused and helpless, his stomach crumbling and aching from hunger, he walked past the corpse and into a room with an open door.

Lorne didn't know how the men died, but based on the festering on the corpses' faces, it was supposed to be some kind of infectious disease raging. He found a packet of dried pods in the cupboard, which looked unusual, tasted one, and poured the paper bag directly into his mouth.

Finally eating, Lorne took a few deep breaths and felt his strength regain somewhat. It was almost night, and he didn't want to spend the night with corpses here, just thinking about it made his scalp tingle.

He was about to leave, but he turned back to the kitchen, grabbed an arm-long sharp knife, and hurried out. Back down the street, Lorne looked left and right, not knowing which way out was the way.

He suddenly noticed the mud marks of four ruts on the avenue, and walked forward and dipped his finger in it, which was still a little wet and fresh. Lorne seemed to see hope, maybe he could see the others by walking along the ruts?

In hope, he swept his gaze to the other side, only to see a towering church spire in the distance. The church is pure black and has many spires, solemn in the twilight. And the direction in which it is located is perpendicular to the rut.

Lorne hesitated.

But it seems too far away, maybe you won't be able to walk when it's dark, and you'll get lost, and then it'll be over.

But the carriage is so fast that I don't know where it stops, and maybe I can't catch up with it after a day's walk.

Before Lorne could make a decision, there was a malicious roar behind him. He turned around alertly and saw a dirt dog with peeling skin and sores all over his body, dragging saliva at the corners of his mouth approaching.

The dogs didn't bark, which made Lorne even more nervous. He found that the dog's eyes were white, like a dead corpse, and the sores all over his body were bubbling with pus and blood, which made people sick just by looking at it, and the pod he had just eaten was about to vomit out again.

Suddenly, the earth dog slashed its front paws into the ground, and its toes and claws became longer, like human hands. Lorne's eyes widened, and he subconsciously dodged, and the earth dog pounced, slowly turning his head, and pounced again.

Lorne dodged a few times, and noticed that the earth dog was slow, so he forced his fear and prepared to find the gap between it and pounce to fight back. The earth dog seemed to have no mind, only the instinct to pounce, and once again pounced with his paws, and Lorne flashed to the right, slashing it with all his might, cutting off the dog's left paw, and splattering blood.

It took a lot of effort to make the knife go, and Lorne only felt dizzy. The earth dog roared, hanging its severed left paw, and suddenly opened its mouth wide, and the sides of its neck also opened, connecting with the corners of its mouth, revealing dozens of sharp teeth.

Lorne was so frightened that he forgot to breathe, which was beyond the comprehension of normal people, and he suspected that he was crazy, or that the world was crazy!

The dog's mouth was like a crocodile's bloody mouth, and he didn't give Lorne time to react and pounced. Lorne woke up suddenly, and subconsciously stretched out his arm to block, but was bitten by the dead.

"Bastard! bastard!" Lorne cursed in pain, and in his panic he saw his left arm embedded in his teeth, and his adrenaline skyrocketed!

With a whimper, the dog's mouth loosened, and a stream of black blood came out of the top of his head.

"Die, die, die!" Lorne was already going crazy, his eyes were bloodshot, and he stabbed seven or eight times in a row, and the last one turned so hard that he smashed the dog's head and sprayed black goo.

The earth dog finally relented, and his body collapsed to the ground limply. Lorne was terrified, his hand holding the kitchen knife trembling uncontrollably, and his left arm aching and numb.

He crouched down almost crumblingly, tears welling up in his eyes. He didn't know what kind of world this was, but he felt that his mind and body were about to reach the limit. Looking at the blade stained with black blood in his hand, he even wanted to stab himself in the head!

The last rays of the sun were almost gone, and the cold wind of the night swept through the streets. Lorne squatted for a long time before taking a few deep breaths, wiping away the tears from his face, and slowly standing up.

He told himself: I crawled out of the pile of dead people, and I want to walk out alive.

Lorne endured the pain in his arm, looked at the hazy outline of the church, and chose to follow the rut. He was dizzy and cold, and wanted to speed up his steps, but his steps were vain, and he could only move forward in small steps.

A few minutes later he walked out of town, the stars were shining, and the ruts in the dirt were blurry. Lorne took off his shoes and walked on the ruts, unable to see clearly by nightfall, and could only make direction by the bumps under his feet.

The dim moonlight poured into the woods, and Lorne's eyes were black, hungry and cold. He didn't know how long he had walked, but he felt hopeless, the ruts under his feet seemed endless, and the people he wanted to follow might never see for the rest of his life.

Suddenly, there seemed to be a glowing fire at the end of the darkness. Lorne's eyes lit up, and the last shred of sobriety gave him the motivation to struggle and stagger with all his might.

He was getting closer and closer to the firelight, and he could even see the black walls and iron gates. It seemed that someone at the door saw him, stood up, and shouted something.

Lorne finally couldn't hold on anymore and fell to the ground. In a trance, he heard approaching footsteps and a thick male voice.

"There are survivors! there are survivors!"