Chapter Seven: Ambushed on the Desolate Road

The road to Rock Fortress was far more treacherous than anticipated.

After leaving the factory district, the highway had long since been swallowed by vegetation and abandoned vehicles, forcing them to traverse the weed-choked embankment. The sun blazed overhead, baking the ground until it scorched their feet; exposed ankles were rubbed raw by jagged stones, and each step was agony. Tao Zui tore the sleeves from her leather jacket, wrapped them twice around her wounds, the fabric quickly soaking through with blood and turning a dark brown.

Unbeknownst to Tao Zui, the little girl had taken it upon herself to choose a name—she called herself “Yaya.” She seemed to have forgotten her earlier terror and chattered incessantly along the way, pointing at mutated morning glories by the roadside and declaring they looked like “mouths that could eat people.” Upon spotting the skeletal remains of altered creatures, she would whisper, “Do you think they’re also searching for their mothers?”

Most of the time, Tao Zui did not answer. She only pulled Yaya back when she strayed near danger or handed her half a compressed biscuit when hunger struck. She noticed that Yaya was remarkably stoic—she neither cried nor complained when hungry or thirsty, and when she fell, she picked herself up, brushed off the dirt, and kept walking. There was always a maturity in those large eyes that seemed far too old for her years.

“Sister, will there be candy at Rock Fortress?” Yaya asked, licking her cracked lips and murmuring softly.

“I don’t know,” Tao Zui replied, her voice muffled through her mask. “But there should be water there.”

Water was now the most precious resource. The small supply brought from the subway had long since been depleted, and the rivers they passed were either dried up or ran a strange green, reeking with a pungent odor—clearly undrinkable.

At noon, the two sought refuge from the heat in an abandoned bus. Its hull was riddled with bullet holes, windows shattered, seats torn apart, and dried blood still visible in the corners. Tao Zui inspected the bus thoroughly, ensuring it was safe before leaning against the door to rest, her ears alert to every sound outside.

Yaya perched at the window, tracing shapes in the dust on the glass with her finger. Suddenly, she pointed toward distant sand dunes. “Sister, there’s a shadow moving over there.”

Tao Zui’s eyes snapped open. She followed Yaya’s finger and saw several dark figures moving swiftly behind the dunes, closing in on the bus.

They were scavengers—at least five of them, all armed, heading straight for the bus.

“Get down,” Tao Zui said, pressing Yaya behind a seat and positioning herself by the door, gripping her M1911 tightly. Only eight rounds remained; she would have to use them sparingly.

The scavengers’ footsteps drew closer, accompanied by crude laughter and curses.

“Damn, there’s not even a bird in this hellhole—where’s the loot?”

“Boss said follow the footprints. That woman’s got a kid with her, she can’t have run far!”

“When we catch them, the little one goes to the ‘meat shop.’ The masked one—heh, maybe she’s a rare catch. Worth a lot of bullets.”

The words “meat shop” chilled Tao Zui instantly. She knew what it was—a black market trading in women and children. The children were either kept as “reserves” or sold to twisted wealthy patrons as playthings, a fate worse than death.

She drew her military knife, gripping it in her left hand. The gun for distant threats, the knife for those who came too close.

The first scavenger appeared at the door—a man with a Mohawk, chewing a blade of grass. “Well, look what we’ve got—”

He didn’t finish his sentence; Tao Zui’s knife pierced his throat before he could react. She pulled his body inside, muffling his mouth to prevent any noise.

Outside, the others hadn’t noticed anything amiss and continued their banter. “Why’s Mohawk so quiet? Maybe he found something good?”

---

A short, stocky man approached, cursing, about to poke his head in, when Tao Zui dragged him inside. Pinning his chest with her knee and holding the knife to his throat, she spoke in a low voice. “How did you find us?”

The man was terrified, stammering, “It—it was the Hyena Gang… They said they saw a woman in a mask heading east with a kid, fifty bullets for a live capture…”

So the Hyena Gang still wasn’t wiped out. Tao Zui’s gaze grew colder; her fingers pressed harder, the knife drawing a bead of blood.

“How many are left outside?”

“Three… three more, all outside…”

She didn’t waste another word. The knife flashed, slicing open his throat. She dragged both bodies to the back of the bus to hide them, then picked up the machete dropped by Mohawk.

Outside, the remaining three scavengers grew impatient and began hurling stones into the bus. “Hey! Dead or alive, if you don’t come out, I’ll start shooting!”

Tao Zui took a deep breath, then suddenly kicked open the door and charged out.

The three scavengers were caught off guard, stunned for a split second. In that instant, Tao Zui’s machete swung down, striking the foremost man’s shoulder. He screamed, dropping his steel pipe.

A tall, thin man reacted, swinging an axe at her. Tao Zui dodged, twisted, and stabbed the machete into his abdomen. Then, she drew her M1911 and fired at the last man, who was about to pull the trigger.

Bang!

The bullet tore through his wrist, sending his gun falling to the ground. Screaming, he clutched his wrist and tried to flee. Tao Zui picked up the fallen steel pipe and hurled it, striking him squarely on the back of the head. He collapsed, motionless.

The entire ordeal took less than a minute.

Tao Zui panted, her hand trembling—not from fear but from the exhaustion of adrenaline. She walked over to the man wounded in the shoulder, who was still cursing on the ground.

“How many are left in the Hyena Gang?” she demanded, knife pointed at his face.

He spat bloody saliva. “You bitch, just wait! When our boss gets here, he’ll skin you alive—”

Tao Zui didn’t listen to another word, slicing his throat cleanly.

The reek of blood hung heavy in the air. Yaya peeked out from the bus, face pale at the sight of the corpses, but she only gripped the doorframe tightly, making not a sound.

“Come here,” Tao Zui called, her voice as calm as ever.

Yaya approached slowly, and when she reached Tao Zui’s side, she suddenly grasped her shaking hand.

“Sister, your hand is trembling.”

---

Tao Zui glanced down at her hand—it was truly shaking. She shook off Yaya’s grip, wiped the blood from her blade with a rag, and began searching the bodies. The scavengers carried half a bag of water, a few bullets, and an unopened compressed biscuit—a small windfall.

She handed the water and biscuit to Yaya. “Drink, eat something.”

Yaya sipped the water in small gulps, then handed the biscuit back. “Sister, you eat.”

“You eat,” Tao Zui shook her head and set about dealing with the corpses—they had to be dragged far away lest the blood attract altered creatures.

Yaya did not insist, nibbling the biscuit, her eyes never leaving Tao Zui. In the sunlight, the blood on Tao Zui’s mask shimmered strangely; her slender figure dragging the bodies seemed frail, yet carried a haunting strength.

Once the corpses were disposed of, they continued their journey. The afternoon path was rougher still—the sand gave way to broken stones. The blisters on their feet burst, and each step felt like walking on blades.

At dusk, they came upon an abandoned outpost. It was small, just a single room, with two altered skeletons outside the door. It seemed no one had been there for a long time.

“We’ll rest here tonight,” Tao Zui said, inspecting the site, blocking the broken door with stones, and spreading dry grass in a corner for Yaya to sleep on.

Yaya quickly fell asleep, exhausted. Tao Zui leaned at the doorway, watching the sky darken, turning the military knife in her hand.

She thought of the stranger she’d met. If he were here, would he think her too ruthless? But she knew that on this land, mercy to enemies was cruelty to oneself. She had to be ruthless, more so than anyone, if she wanted to survive, if she wanted to keep Yaya alive.

Just then, a distant engine rumbled.

Tao Zui gripped her knife, eyes fixed on the direction of the sound. The outpost’s window had long lost its glass; she could see two beams of headlights speeding toward them.

Was it the Hyena Gang, or other scavengers?

She hid Yaya deeper in the grass pile, then positioned herself behind the door, heart pounding.

The headlights drew closer and finally stopped at the outpost. The engine died, doors opened, and two silhouettes stepped out.

Tao Zui’s knife was ready.

One of the shadows spoke, voice hoarse and icy, with a faint, familiar undertone:

“Is anyone inside?”