Chapter 25: The Retirement Home (1)

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Li Fengyi looked at the two women and one man who had just come out. One of the women was about forty, rescued from Courtyard No. 5; the other, around thirty, had been saved on Qingnian Gou Road. The man, in his twenties, was a stranger—likely someone Li Qiang had brought back that morning. “You three, come with me. Everyone else, continue according to the division of labor from this morning. Wei Yong, after Second Company finishes clearing Mary Hospital, find the generator, then clear the retirement home behind the hospital. Get started; I’ll join you shortly.”

Everyone assembled and set off.

Li Fengyi gathered the three in Room 607 to organize the personnel. “Please, have a seat. Tell me about yourselves.”

“My name is Tian Yali. I’m from Beijing, Deputy Section Chief of the Organization and Personnel Department at Hepingli Subdistrict Office, Chaoyang District. I have a university degree in administrative management, am a party member, and have worked for twenty years.” Tian Yali hesitated, then added, “My age is usually a secret, but one must be completely honest before the organization. After so many years in government work, I understand that well.”

“I’m Sun Xiuqing, also from Beijing, staff member of the Organization and Personnel Department at the same office, university degree in scientific socialism, party member, nine years of service,” Sun Xiuqing said readily, following Tian Yali’s lead. “I’m thirty-one.”

“My name is Qi Tianfang, from Shaanxi. I work in the Human Resources Department of Beijing Shidai Tiancheng Technology Co., Ltd. I have a master’s in human resources. I’m not a party member,” Qi Tianfang added.

“Good. The reason I’ve called you here is because our situation is currently chaotic,” Li Fengyi began. “The apocalypse struck too suddenly and for reasons unknown. There are many theories, but no one was prepared, and we don’t know when things will return to normal,” his voice grew heavier, “nor when, or even if, government rescue will come. But we must survive.”

The three grew tense, the oppressive atmosphere making it hard to breathe.

“We have to organize ourselves. You’ve all seen over the past few days how much we lack, and how many are waiting for rescue.” Li Fengyi continued along his train of thought, unconsciously dispelling some of the gloom. “It’s not great calamities we fear, but lack of organization.”

He encouraged them: “We’ve decided to form a Post-Apocalypse Survivors’ Self-Help Committee, roughly modeled on the structure of pre-disaster government departments, but trimmed to suit our needs. You three have experience in organization and personnel work,” he assigned, “Tian Yali will take the lead in building the organizational department. Submit a plan to me soon. For resources and logistics, speak to Captain Wang. I’ll be heading to Mary Hospital; if any problem arises, have the teaching platoon send someone to inform me.”

The three glanced at each other. Tian Yali asked, “Where will our office be?”

Li Fengyi thought for a moment. “Set it up in Unit 6, Room 50.”

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“Very well, Captain Li. We’ll get started,” said Tian Yali, as the three stood and nodded before leaving.

Li Fengyi took two security guards and headed to Mary Hospital.

Wei Yong and his men had already found the hospital’s generator, and in the generator room, they had discovered two electricians. On the day disaster struck, they’d been repairing equipment; when they surfaced, they realized something was terribly wrong.

With the outbreak of widespread illness in the hospital and no rational explanation, the two became frightened and hid in the semi-basement generator room, waiting for things to improve before coming out again. Unfortunately, soon after, they saw people begin to eat each other. Zombies roamed the courtyard, chasing any living person; terrified, the two dared not emerge.

They survived several days on leftovers meant for a night of drinking, enduring hunger, but at least they didn’t collapse as quickly as others. The electricians, too, were sent back in shifts with the others.

A squad was left to guard Mary Hospital’s entrance. Li Fengyi led his men to the road on the west side of the hospital leading to the retirement home, taking position behind a double row of cars. He watched as the zombies ahead clawed anxiously at the vehicles, ready to observe how they might overcome the barricade, and ordered everyone to stay alert.

Zombies at the rear dragged down those in front. The fallen ones struggled but couldn’t rise, so those behind simply climbed over them. As more piled on, they formed a sloping ramp against the car barricade. The zombies began clambering up, and because the disaster had struck in the afternoon when few were in the yard, only a dozen managed to climb over. As they stepped forward, they fell headlong off the barricade, struggling for some time before managing to rise.

Li Fengyi saw this, and after the first zombies tumbled, those behind began to experiment with jumping down. At first, they fell awkwardly, but the last two landed more steadily.

Li Fengyi’s face was as dark as the overcast sky—these zombies had some capacity for learning, imitating the behavior of others. That was a terrible development.

He hefted his steel pipe and shouted, “Follow me!”

They dealt with the zombies that had jumped over, climbed atop the cars, and killed all the zombies in front from their elevated vantage point.

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Everyone leapt down from the cars. The zombies in the yard had already rushed out earlier, so only a few stragglers wandered deep inside. There were two residential buildings in the yard, and the zombies were quickly cleared from both.

Everyone knew the next steps: each squad was responsible for clearing a unit, while Li Fengyi coordinated from the center of the yard.

Soon, the first unit was clear. As the team members emerged one after another, Li Fengyi thought that even for seasoned hands, they’d moved remarkably fast.

He watched as the First Squad Leader of First Platoon, Second Company, led out an old gentleman in an ’87 military uniform, flanked by two men in the 2007 spring issue service dress, bulging under their arms as if carrying weapons—though the steel pipes in their hands didn’t quite match the uniforms. Several survivors followed, none in a state of panic or half-starved daze typical of survivors elsewhere.

The old man’s steps were steady, his expression solemn yet relaxed, as if well-adapted and even enjoying the environment.

“A remarkable character,” Li Fengyi thought to himself, watching as the old man approached, naturally surrounded by the platoon and squad leaders.

“Captain Li,” the old man called out in a strong, clear voice, “my neighbors and I have cleared this unit of those things. We were just about to move on when we met you. Thank you!”

“And you are?” Li Fengyi studied the elder carefully. His hair was white, his cheeks marked by age spots. For some reason, words kept revolving in Li Fengyi’s mind: “The dragon follows the clouds, the wind follows the tiger, radiating vigor like a tiger’s might…” Wait—could it be Tiger Wei?