Chapter Five: Underlying Currents in the Subway

The footsteps of the Hyena Gang echoed through the station corridor, pounding like heavy hammers upon taut nerves. Tao Zui slipped silently toward the fire hydrant, her fingers brushing the rusty valve. The chill of the metal soothed her frantic heartbeat, if only slightly.

“Boss, the duty room door is locked!” a voice shouted, punctuated by the clang of a steel pipe against the iron door.

“Break it down! That bitch must be hiding inside!” came another coarse reply, likely their leader.

Tao Zui drew a deep breath and suddenly twisted the hydrant valve open. High-pressure water surged through the decayed pipes, bursting out with the stench of rust, pooling into a torrent that spread toward the entrance. She had calculated the slope of the subway corridor—the water would rush toward the gang, slowing them for a few precious seconds.

As the water swept around the corner, she flung open the duty room door, the beam of her flashlight slicing through the darkness, and she squeezed the trigger.

Bang!

The foremost Hyena Gang member, who was smashing the door with a steel pipe, dropped instantly. The bullet pierced his throat, blood mingling with water as it flowed outward.

The sudden chaos threw the gang into disarray. Some slipped in the water, others were blinded by the flashlight’s glare, curses and shouts erupted in confusion.

“She’s inside! Open fire!” the leader roared. Bullets whistled past Tao Zui’s ears, striking the iron cabinet in the duty room and sparking violently.

Tao Zui quickly ducked back, using the door’s hinge for cover as she swapped magazines. Her fingertips brushed the cold bullets, and she thought fleetingly of that strange man—if he were here, what would he do? The thought lasted only a heartbeat, drowned out by a surge of murderous intent.

She gave them no time to regroup. Rolling sideways into the open, her gun already trained on the gang members trapped by the water. Three shots, three precise bursts—each striking a chest. Blood foamed in the current, blooming like red poppies.

“Damn it! Get her! Half a crate of canned food for whoever catches her!” the leader bellowed in frustration, hiding behind a concrete pillar as he pushed his men forward.

Tao Zui sneered. She’d seen too many cowards who sent others to die while they cowered behind cover. She didn’t linger, retreating into the duty room and slamming the iron door shut, deliberately not locking it—she needed bait.

Sure enough, urgent banging and heavy breathing came from outside. The first Hyena Gang member bursting in barely had time to register the scene before Tao Zui, crouched behind the door, slashed his throat with her knife. Warm blood splattered her mask; she didn’t even blink, shoving the corpse at those behind him.

Amid the chaos, she reached the edge of the iron cabinet and shoved it forcefully toward the doorway. The heavy cabinet crashed down with a thunderous clang, blocking half the entrance and forming a makeshift barrier.

“Five left,” Tao Zui counted silently. The firefight had taken out seven; the rest, including the leader, were still outside.

Pressing against the wall, she listened intently. The sound of water faded; the hydrant was nearly spent. The Hyena Gang stopped banging on the door, their whispers suggesting they were plotting their next move.

“Boss, she’s ruthless—we’ve lost seven already…” a voice quavered.

“Coward!” the leader snapped. “She can’t have many bullets left! Find something to stab through the crack! Burn her out!”

Tao Zui’s heart sank. Fire was her greatest fear—the duty room was too small; if it caught fire, there would be no escape. She had to act.

Glancing at the cabinet, she saw the little girl still hiding inside. Despite the gunfire and shouting, the child hadn’t made a sound—calmer than most adults.

“Cover your ears, close your eyes,” Tao Zui whispered toward the cabinet, then grabbed a lighter and half a bag of moldy bread from the table.

She tore the bread into pieces, scattering them near the doorway, then pulled a small bottle of alcohol from her leather jacket pocket—traded from Cyclops, originally meant for disinfecting wounds, now repurposed.

The alcohol soaked the bread crumbs, its pungent odor filling the air. Tao Zui retreated to the back of the room, gripping her knife, eyes fixed on the gap in the door.

Outside, the gang members seemed to sense something was amiss. The banging stopped. After a few seconds, a head poked through the crack, looking around.

Now.

Tao Zui flicked the lighter, tossing the flame toward the doorway. The alcohol ignited instantly, flames racing across the bread crumbs, licking at corpses and the iron cabinet, choking smoke rolling in.

“Ah! Fire!” screams erupted outside.

“Put it out, damn it!” the leader barked, panic creeping into his voice.

Taking advantage of their distraction, Tao Zui shoved the cabinet aside—the flames blocked their view, this was her only chance. Darting out like an arrow, her knife flashed coldly in the darkness, plunging into the neck of a gang member busy fighting the fire.

Without pause, she ducked behind the concrete pillar, colliding with the fleeing leader.

He had never expected her to burst out; his legs buckled, dropping his gun. Seeing Tao Zui’s eyes gleaming like a specter in the firelight, he could only gasp incoherently.

She gave him no chance to beg. Her knife struck between his ribs, twisted, and withdrew. Blood sprayed onto her leather jacket, hot and viscous.

The last enemy collapsed, eyes wide, as if he still hadn’t understood how he died.

The fire burned on, smoke stinging her lungs. Tao Zui quickly checked for survivors—none left. She ran back to the duty room, opened the cabinet.

The little girl was curled in the corner, hands clamped over her ears, eyes screwed shut, body trembling.

“You can open your eyes now,” Tao Zui’s voice rasped through her mask.

The girl slowly opened her eyes, stared at the flames and smoke outside, then at Tao Zui’s blood-stained clothes. Her lips quivered, but she didn’t cry.

“We… need to leave,” Tao Zui said, lifting her from the cabinet, wiping the dust from her face with a damp rag.

The girl nodded and clung tightly to Tao Zui’s jacket.

Without looking back at the inferno, Tao Zui carried the girl into the subway tunnel. The filthy water reached their ankles, icy cold, but her steps remained steady.

The battle had used fifteen bullets; thirteen remained. Her knife was smeared with blood—she rinsed it in the water, and the blade was still sharp.

After about ten minutes, they reached a fork. The left tunnel was pitch black, endless; the right offered a faint glimmer.

“Which way?” the girl whispered.

Tao Zui didn’t answer, only listened. From the left came distant dripping and low, beastlike breathing. The right was quiet, only wind moaning through the tunnel.

She chose the right without hesitation. Unknown silence was safer than known danger.

They walked for nearly half an hour, the light growing brighter, wind audible from outside. At last, they found a stairway leading up to a pried-open vent, moonlight spilling in, casting a bright patch on the floor.

Tao Zui climbed the stairs with the girl in her arms, pushed the vent cover aside. Outside lay an abandoned factory district, the hulking buildings silent as giants in the moonlight, overgrown lots where a few mutated forms wandered aimlessly.

“Hold tight,” Tao Zui whispered, jumping from the vent and landing on a pile of discarded fabric, making little noise.

She didn’t leave immediately, instead hiding behind the fabric, surveying her surroundings. The factory district was vast, with more than a dozen buildings. The mutated creatures were few but scattered.

“Are we staying here tonight?” the girl asked, her voice weary.

“Yes,” Tao Zui nodded. “Let’s find a place to rest.”

Carrying the girl, she moved like a shadow between the buildings, avoiding the mutated creatures’ gaze, finally entering a relatively intact warehouse.

Inside, abandoned machine parts were piled high, the air thick with oil and rust. She chose a corner, stacked parts to form a crude barrier, then set the girl down, leaning against the shield with her gun in hand.

The girl nestled beside her and soon fell asleep, exhausted, her breath light and soft as a kitten’s.

Tao Zui felt no drowsiness. She gazed at the moonlight seeping through a crack in the warehouse roof, her mind drifting to the stranger. Was he still alive? Back at the apartment, he’d faced so many Hyena Gang members alone—had he survived?

She shook her head, banishing the useless thoughts. In the apocalypse, worrying about others was a recipe for misery.

Yet for some reason, the image of that man rushing toward the stairwell lingered like a brand in her mind—cold, resolute, and strangely… familiar.

She instinctively touched the scar on her wrist, the wound reopened by the recent fight, blood seeping through to overlap the old scar, forming a blood-stained maple leaf.

Moonlight gleamed off her mask, reflecting a cold sheen. Outside, mutated creatures howled, wind moaned through the factory.

Tao Zui closed her eyes, fingers never leaving the trigger.

Survive.

That word echoed in her heart, an unquenchable flame, carrying her step by step through the wasteland’s darkness.

This time, she was not alone. The small figure beside her made her steps heavier, but also brought a subtle, inexplicable… bond.