Desperate Game Cat Hunter

I slept soundly.Such a sound will make you annoyed at first that some stupid fool is knocking on the door to disturb your sleep.Then you will think of this end times in your slightly awake consciousness, and then you will think that you are probably dreaming.

But the sound continued.

I still didn't intend to pull myself out of sleep, but someone pinched my left hand tightly.The sharp pain woke me up instantly.

It's Al.He is the only person here who can wake up a sleeping person in such a wicked way.I figured my scabbed and nearly healing wound on the palm of my hand must be open again.

I stare at Al.But his attention wasn't on me, he was looking out the window.

I turned around suspiciously.Then I saw light, very bright.Just across from our car.If I'm not mistaken, I think it should be another car.

The sound of knocking on the door continued.

I guess we're in trouble.

This is definitely not Yiwei and the others.With Rost and Kerry around, they won't let Yiwei be so willful as to turn on the lights at night to call for "hungry wolves".

So there is only one conclusion, we met some other people.Moreover, it is very likely that it is an armed enemy.I don't think fleeing civilians have the leisure and courage to provoke other people's cars at night.

Al glanced back at me and motioned for me to open the door.Because the sound came from my side.

I nodded, and when I was about to open the door, he suddenly grabbed me and whispered to me, don't shoot or resist.

I think I can see what he means.There are only two of us, two pistols.But the opponent's strength is unknown, but daring to turn on the lights at night with such a big fanfare must be quite confident in his own strength.So, in summary, resistance is not a good idea.Otherwise, it will be wiped out directly.

Bad luck.I thought as I opened the car door.

"Good evening, gentlemen." The moment I opened the car door, I heard people outside say so.The long-lost way of greeting, if it weren't for this situation, it might make me more or less nostalgic.

"Uh, good evening." I replied.As you can see, this kind of everyday speech has started to feel out of place for me.

Someone outside was shining a bright flashlight into our car. Al and I had to cover our eyes with our arms to block the bright light. We couldn't see who was coming, not even how many people came. Know.

"Turn off the light!" Al rushed over to cover my eyes with his hands, and snarled loudly, "My brother's eyes are hurt and he can't see the bright light!!"

I almost couldn't help laughing.

This born liar.

"Oh, sorry sir!" The other person immediately apologized, and then I felt the bright light outside disappear, and they said, "We didn't know this. I'm really sorry."

I think my splinted left arm backs up the fact that I was injured.They immediately turned off the flashlights.The absence of glare meant we could also see their equipment and numbers.And they had to stop looking at what was going on in our car.

I think it was their gentle and polite tone and address that prompted Al to come up with such a play on the spur of the moment.He has always liked to cheat.

"Who are you?!" Al's tone was a little angry but panicked, with guard.The tone of those exiles when encountering an accident is vividly simulated.

"That's exactly what we want to ask, sir. This is not a place where ordinary people would come." The other party replied.

Unable to see, this "brother" who is obsessed with his performance has no intention of taking his hands away from my eyes.I can only listen to their tone and words to figure out their identities.

To be honest, such a straightforward question and answer reminded me of the police movies I have seen before, those warriors who represent justice.But in real life, they usually don't end well.

Both sides were silent, as if no one wanted to reveal their identities first.I listened carefully—I could feel that there was definitely more than one person outside, but there was no other sound except breathing—discussion, ridicule, moving footsteps, these common sounds in our team, they didn’t have any .Seems well trained and disciplined.

"...well, my brother and I got lost," Al conceded first, and he started to make up again, and his voice sounded like he was really frustrated, "to escape here to avoid the blood caused by zombies, Then I lost my way."

"With all due respect, the two of you don't seem to be avoiding the rape, but rather the person who caused it." The man over there replied with a smile, "We just opened your cargo box, and the things inside are really rich. Like a fugitive."

Pry open our cargo box?How soundly do we sleep?I didn't notice it at all!Damn it!I regretted it a bit. No matter where I am, as long as I am still alive, vigil is indeed necessary.

"We just want to make it easier for ourselves to live when the terrorist attack occurs, so there is nothing wrong with that." Al's words imply that we did participate in the terrorist looting of supplies, but we are still just civilians.

Most of our cargo boxes are filled with food, water and some necessary supplies.As for guns and the like, we put them in Yiwei's car.But there are not many, there are more bullets and knives in the car.Each person can only have one pistol. As for the shotgun, obviously, there are no more in my place, and the number is pitifully small.

So Al's statement is almost impeccable.Makes sense, doesn't it?I mean, if it wasn't for the pistols we'd be hiding right now.

"So, it's your turn." Al asked, "Who are you?"

Their answers were somewhat complex, ranging from odd unit names to personal numbers.All in all, we've run into a group of capable people who definitely can't be partners.It seems that an official rescue team has finally appeared, intending to save these people in the doomsday.Perhaps they should be described as partners in justice?

I curled my lips uncontrollably at the thought, hoping they hadn't noticed.Because the word "justice" is ridiculous enough in this world.

Al is still fighting them with his lies.He can always fabricate the most credible lies by integrating the information the other party already has.Mixed with truth, but hides a crucial truth.

I watched with interest as this group of people was led away by Al a little bit away from the real direction-they gradually began to believe us.I feel like we're just a pair of poor brothers.

In the end, I heard that person apologized to us very solemnly, and promised that we would take me to a safe place, but we had to confiscate our supplies.According to his original words, it is to go to a place where "God grants sanctuary".I think Rost would like that statement.

We were "invited" out of the car to get in their car as a customer.And our car must be handed over to them to drive, which is necessary to show loyalty.And we just need to sit comfortably in the car as a taxi customer, without doing anything.

Al finally takes his hand away and we're getting out of the car.Only now did I see the people who came, dressed casually, not like the uniformly dressed soldiers in the movie.But there were a lot of people, about a dozen of them, and everyone stood upright with a gun.

"Sir, please don't worry." The person negotiating looked at me and looked at them, thinking I was afraid, "We will never hurt you."

Al gave me a push and we got out of the car together.

I'm a little uneasy, my gun is at my waist.Although the jacket blocked it, I could clearly perceive its existence.

Fortunately, Al seemed to have completely gained their trust, and no one seemed to ask for a body search.What a nice thing.

We got into their car.Honestly, it feels good.Although it looks like a large bus—maybe this bus is really a bus, so many seats are convenient for them to "pick up" those fleeing people along the way, although, now there are no people on the bus except them Just me and Al.This place is really too desolate, so desolate that there are not even zombies.

Although there is no place to lie down, the car is very clean and the most important thing is that there is no smell of smoke.After getting in the car, someone poured us a cup of hot water.It's warm in your hand.

Gives a long-lost feeling.As it stands, it feels good.

Al took the hot water cup and looked around with interest at the other people in the car and their weapons.I think he's estimating their combat capabilities.The illusion of panic and alert just now faded away, and he looked confident but a little lazy.

I held the water glass and blew on it, taking a sip of hot water.He ignored Al's eyes.I looked up after drinking the water in my hand, only to find that Al was looking at me at some point, smiling like a fox with bad ideas.

He mouthed, go to sleep.

I was really tired, so I lay down on the seat and closed my eyes unceremoniously.

But it didn't take long for the car to start.They are on their way.So the car is full of engine roar again, but the bumps are much less than Al's driving.

I started dreaming again.But this time the dream was very vague, and I didn't know what I was dreaming about.I only know the scene, and the characters are changing all the time.

When he woke up, his body was drenched in cold sweat.

I was about to sit up when I suddenly felt someone move my left arm.Out of precaution, I immediately withdrew my left arm from the man's hand, quickly and decisively.But doing so caused a sharp pain in my left arm.

It's a soldier, and he's undoing my bandages.I guess he was trying to check my wounds, kindly.I haven't changed the bandages for a long time. In fact, they have already stuck to my flesh and blood. I pulled them away so suddenly that my flesh and blood turned over.Then began to bleed profusely.

The man suddenly started to panic, muttering "Oh my God, my God" in his mouth.It was as if he was bleeding and not me.

I tried to get him to let go of my arm.I know that amputation is the most effective way, and he is powerless now.That being the case, I don't want someone to take off the bandages and let me see how miserable my arm has become.

"Hold on, kid! You need help!" he snapped.

Then I stopped.Because I saw Al point his eyes at me, telling me not to resist.

It's really uncomfortable.

"Oh, my God. Who did this to you? It's a group of demons!" He was still sighing and condemning me in a fussy and ridiculous tone while carefully removing the bandages for me.

I glanced at Al, who was looking at my arm with interest.

Until now, all living beings are demons.including me.

Although I would love to say this to the kind Mr. Doctor.But I wisely kept silent.Because Al's lies have positioned me as a child who knows nothing about the world, and I need to cooperate with him.

The doctor first asked me politely and tactfully if I would mind using an excessive amount of anesthetic.Then, under anesthesia, the carrion from my arm was carefully removed.After the final bandage, I was given an injection of anti-inflammatory drugs.

Everyone seems to favor this palliative approach.This makes me a little annoyed, even annoyed.I asked the doctor, can't the amputation be done directly? !

He was taken aback by my direct question.And then the look on his face turned sympathetic and sad - which was unpleasant enough.Why can such a kind-hearted person survive until now.It's incredible.

He took my right hand and tried to comfort me.He thinks that I am now irritable due to helplessness and sadness about losing my left arm.He told me that amputation may indeed be required.Even now, he still uses words like "possible" that give people such false hope.And after that kept telling me lots and lots of stories about people who survived amputations, built happy families, built successful businesses - as uninteresting and unbelievable as the Arabian Nights Spend.

At the end, he pressed my head into his chest, patted my back, and kept murmuring, "Oh, my poor boy..."

After the doctor left, Al leaned over, looked at my arm with disgusting caring and worried eyes (he was dutifully playing the role of brother), and then spoke in a low tone but clearly He asked jokingly, "How does it feel, meeting an angel in white again?"

"It sucks," I said truthfully, also in a low voice.After thinking about it, he added, "He reminds me of the saints in those absurd myths."

The hypocrisy has deceived everyone's respect and praise.

"Oh, what a heartless answer," Al teased, "Kitty, it won't be cute anymore if it becomes like us."

Is it possible that Al still intends to make me be grateful to that priest-like man with a compassionate face?

I guess he should want me to do this, because then he can see how hopeless I would be after killing him.Such a scene must make him feel happy.But I'm not interested.

To survive now, you need to abandon human emotions and civilization. That little girl has taught me enough lessons.Thanks to her, I haven't been able to sleep well until now.