Chapter 34: The Special Committee (1)

There were abundant military resources in the retirement center, including the infamous ghost-slaying saber, whose owner was a retired cadre—now turned zombie. Over a hundred binoculars were found: some monocular, some binocular, some from the Qing army, some imported by the Beiyang warlords, by Chiang Kai-shek, from Japan, the United States, Britain, Turkey, Thailand... The latter had been captured on the Korean battlefield. There weren’t many firearms; most belonged to vacationing soldiers and the guards of the retired cadres.

The Republic’s firearm ban was strict, even for military personnel, but still, over a hundred guns of various sizes were found. The Special Committee immediately issued a strict order: unless the enemy fired first at close range, no one was to open fire—anyone who disobeyed would be executed on the spot according to military law. This was to avoid drawing zombies with gunfire. Li Fengyi hesitated for a time over whether to issue a gun to Jiang Qian.

Squad leaders, platoon and company commanders, battalion commanders, ministers of the Special Committee and other departments, the party secretary, and the Ministry of Public Security were all equipped with firearms.

The supply of military uniforms ensured that everyone in the Special Committee had at least one set. However, aside from work, the women mostly wore their own clothes, colorful and eye-catching. Uniforms from various eras were on display, creating a spectacular sight. To avoid accusations of favoritism, the ministers issued tailored Type-99 standard uniforms to all, though not the latest model. Li Fengyi and his frequent frontline companions were allowed two extra sets of Type-99 urban camouflage combat uniforms, though they weren’t sure if zombies could distinguish between different camouflage patterns.

Other military supplies were abundant: backpacks, canteens, compasses, and detailed military maps. The only problem was that city maps more than two or three years old were mostly inaccurate—development had been too rapid, turning the city into an ever-changing construction site.

Looking at the vivid, heroic photos of soldiers in every household, the searchers fell silent. The Special Committee seized the opportunity for a lesson in current affairs, helping everyone appreciate the importance and steadfastness of the military. For once, no one seemed to resent the political messaging.

“The key is not to rely on the same old propaganda, and above all, not to say one thing and do another,” Li Fengyi said, shouldering supplies as he spoke with Li Qiang. “Who doesn’t love their country? They just get disgusted by hypocrisy.”

In the end, the military units were organized as follows: Main combat strength—three companies, a reconnaissance platoon, and a training platoon stationed at the base to train survivors. Among the officers, a former special forces lieutenant naturally became the reconnaissance platoon leader. There was also a staff office attached to the Special Committee.

Each company was assigned a military doctor—highly qualified, all with bachelor’s degrees from medical school and at least five years of clinical experience: one an obstetrician, one a pediatrician, another specializing in infertility.

Ou Fuchun’s Health Department had only five people in total, three of whom were reassigned to the military. He made no complaint; in the apocalypse, survival was the first priority, and the military was paramount.

The main equipment remained steel pipe shields. Sun Xiaoshan and his team used a grinder to cut the pipes to a sharp 30-degree angle, making them suitable for both smashing and stabbing. The pipes came in one-and-a-half-meter and two-meter lengths. The five-meter spears, a retro idea, were almost impossible to use in urban combat, and the water pipes rarely came in such lengths, but they still managed to produce a batch. Shields were made from security doors, also cut with grinders, and were selected for their fully enclosed structure. They came in two sizes: 500x600mm and 500x900mm, for half-body and full-body protection, respectively. Each shield had three straps on the back: two fixed to slip over the forearm and one movable strap for gripping.

Individual half-body gear consisted of a 500x600mm shield and a one-and-a-half-meter steel pipe. The full-body setup paired one person with a 500x900mm shield and another with a two-meter steel pipe.

“I need to say this up front,” Sun Xiaogang announced, delivering five hundred one-and-a-half-meter and five hundred two-meter steel pipe spears, as well as thirty five-meter ones. He provided three hundred shields of each type. Nearly everyone had been mobilized—they’d stripped all the water pipes, heating pipes, and gas pipes from the building, working for two days to finish. “There are plenty of security doors, and the newer the building, the better the quality. But steel pipes are running out. In new constructions, almost everything is PVC, which is corrosion-resistant but not sturdy. Crossbows are in trial production now, but it’s a bit complicated and will take some time.”

“No problem, we’ll capture the steel market eventually. Get you all the supplies you need,” the receiving officer replied optimistically. “For every two you make, use one and store the other—heh!”

“Without smelting equipment, we can’t change the basic form of the metal,” Sun noted.

“We’ll capture that for you, too.”

Sun Xiaoshan just shook his head and walked off.

A torrential rain began and lasted three days. The drains under the city rail bridge flooded when the pumps stopped working due to the power outage. Zombies floated motionless on the water. They dragged two bodies back—both had drowned. Minister Ou noted that, given the population, some zombies must have been able to swim in life. The only explanation was that the mutation had robbed them of that ability, making them easy prey for the water. Li Fengyi arranged for shots to be fired at the bridge tunnel, drawing more zombies, who also drowned. Openings were created in the park barricades, letting in more zombies. When the tunnel beneath the bridge became too crowded, they’d block the entrance, haul out the bodies, pile them up, and repeat the process.

Black clouds hung low, the rain poured relentlessly, visibility was poor, and no one dared venture far. Activities were limited to the immediate area, with everyone on high alert.

They captured a few more live zombies. Commander Liu insisted on conducting a color test, which showed that zombies were not especially sensitive to bright red. So, vivid red flags and military banners were hung up. Strangely, the sight of the red flags and banners seemed to boost morale among the survivors.

In Compound Five, the cement tiles had all been removed, forcing people to slog slowly through the mud. Minister Ou even drove some zombies into the yard, where they also moved sluggishly. From then on, the survivors revered Ou as a kind of deity—while keeping their distance. Anyone willing to “play with zombies” was considered terrifying.

Even Li Fengyi, after shaking hands with Minister Ou, would scrub his clothes repeatedly, never knowing what Minister Ou had been experimenting with that day. When Ou noticed, he simply abandoned handshakes altogether, leaving Li Fengyi feeling quite apologetic.

The soldiers were fascinated by the idea that so many zombies could be eliminated without direct combat—more effectively, even, than in pitched battle. A meeting was held, a tradition in the People’s Liberation Army, to discuss strategies democratically before action.

“Once, I saw a zombie fall from a building and smash to pieces,” Li Fengyi remarked, gazing at the city’s forest of tall buildings. “I think if we could lure zombies to jump, the effect might be even better. Zombies crave blood—if we could get up to the rooftops and hang flesh on the outside walls, they might come leaping down in a grand display of high-dive suicide.”