Chapter 182: Lily Branch
Chapter 182: Lily Branch
Clutching the crying Doll that looks like a human-shaped monster magnet, Anran reaches out, grabs the staggering little girl, and runs forward. A large horde of zombies trails behind her, drawn by the sound. Anxiety surges through her.
Maybe—probably—they are going to die here today. Well, she and her daughter never expected to survive this long in the apocalypse. Every extra day they have lived is already a miracle. If today is the end, then at least she and Doll will be together. Anran has already prepared herself for this possibility.
[Come here, come here.]
A faint voice echoes in her mind. Anran abruptly stops, her gaze darting around. Other than the zombies, only three living beings are present—her, the little girl, and Doll. Who is speaking in her head?
[Here, here.]
The tiny, weak voice continues calling out. The fast-moving zombies are closing in, almost upon her. Clenching her jaw, Anran grabs the little girl, turns a corner, and instinctively sprints in a direction that feels right.
She rushes into a clothing store and immediately spots a lily on the counter.
The flower has withered, its petals drooping. Its slender leaves are scorched yellow, clearly lacking water. A wave of despair crashes over Anran, but she reaches out and seizes the lily anyway.
The moment she touches it, the petals fall away, and the leaves crumble, leaving behind only a bare, foot-long branch.
Anran clutches the branch tightly, hugs the wailing Doll closer, grabs the little girl’s hand, and dashes toward the fitting room. She yanks the door shut behind them.
Outside, the leading zombie crashes against the thin wooden door with a guttural "ho ho," drawing the rest of the horde to slam against it.
"Hold the door!!!"
Inside, Anran braces herself against the flimsy barrier with all her strength. Doll’s cries grow even louder, sharp and desperate. Anran is drenched in sweat, strands of her hair sticking to her damp cheeks.
From the other side of the door, countless zombie hands claw and scrape, their nails dragging against the wood like they are raking down her spine.
In the cramped fitting room, the little girl does as she is told, pressing her back against the door in an attempt to help.
But what good will it do?
It is just a thin wooden door—how long can it hold?
And to make things worse, Anran is holding a humanoid monster magnet. She can’t stay still, and Doll's cries pierce the air. Too young to understand danger, Doll only knows how to wail.
The hinges on the door rattle violently, the small metal fastenings loosening under the relentless impact. The zombies outside shove and squeeze, frantically reaching for the crying baby. Gnarled, decayed hands wriggle under the door, grasping at Anran’s and the little girl’s ankles.
"Ah—!!!"
Anran screams as cold, rotting fingers clamp around her ankle. She looks down in horror, cradling Doll in one arm while gripping the stripped lily branch in the other.
Panic surges through her veins. Instinct takes over. The energy of her supernatural power flares through her fingertips, and she swings the lily branch down.
The moment the branch strikes, something strange happens.
The decayed flesh on the zombie’s hand peels away, as if the lily branch has sucked it dry. In Anran’s mind, a voice erupts—hungry, eager—
[More.]