Chapter 883 The Road to Survival
Jack Ma still remembers the screams, gunshots, and terrifying laughter that echoed in the employee dormitory area.
But for him right now, the worst thing is the cold. As long as their breath leaves their mouth and nose, it will turn into mist, taking away the precious warmth.
Obviously, the space station's life support system is gradually paralyzing.
Jackma is not a doctor, but he knows that they cannot survive one more night in the space station.
The killers, whatever they were, were probably trying to force the survivors out of their hiding places.
It could also be that they are tired of hunting and just want to freeze the remaining people to death in hiding places.
Both thoughts are not very comfortable anyway.
"Did you hear that?"
Jekma whispered,
Something metal hammered away in front of them.
The three of them stopped at the same time, and three beams of light swept forward through the corridor.
But it was empty, just an empty corridor, but the creaking sound was still playing.
"That movement is a turbine ventilator."
Demo, who was once a plumber repairman, whispered:
"It's just a ventilation fan."
Jekma turned around, avoiding the man's wide eyes and the wafting stench from his body.
"Are you sure?"
"It's just a ventilation fan, that's what I think. I often come here to check on this area."
Dimo's voice and his His hands were trembling.
"I've worked in those pipes, and I know the sound they make."
"Let's go."
They move with exaggerated caution, unsure of what the killers can sense. , they know very little.
Only Dimo has seen the killer, he sees it most clearly, but he just refuses to say it. Michelle, the cleaner behind the trio, claims to see it more clearly than Dimo, but still not So many clues - the white skull, the huge red eyes, that's all they knew.
In fact, Jackma knew that Michelle ran away before he could see anything. He rushed in from a maintenance hatch and walked down the crawling tunnel panting. Others were He was being dismembered with a loud crunching sound behind him.
Of course, Jackma himself hasn't gone anywhere yet. He has been sticking to the smallest passage since he first heard the report of the attackers' landing. Others were constantly sweeping the food cabins or searching for battery packs in the warehouse, but then They all died, and only Jack Ma, the most cautious, survived.
"It's too cold. We have to move and pray that there is still heat in other areas of the space station."
Jakema also considered giving up and lying down in the narrow crawl space of a maintenance hole. Here, let the frost take him away, which will make things easier - he may not rot after he dies.
At least not until the heat exchanger is restarted...
But he still can't accept being a stain of corruption on the steel.
When the three of them reached the next intersection, Jackma stopped again and tried his best to listen to his heartbeat.
Then, he began to move along the passage on the left.
"That's a dead end."
Jekma heard Dimo sigh, but the other person remained silent.
“This is the way to the cafeteria.”
He explained as gently as possible:
"We need supplies. Now is not the time to argue. If the attackers are satisfied, they may leave, and we must be in a cold space station. To survive, food is necessary."
"But that's not the way to the canteen. The canteen is on the left."
Dimo pointed to the opposite corridor.
"That leads to the eastern technical deck."
Jackma shook his head and denied the other party's statement.
"No."
"I've been here several times!"
Demo's voice became higher and higher, with a sense of resentment.
“We should go this way.”
As they argued, a nearby ventilation fan continued to make a slow clicking sound.
“Let’s go.” Michelle said to Jackma:
“Leave him alone.”
“Don’t, don’t, I’m Come on, don’t leave me behind.”
"Then lower your voice."
Jekma said gently, not knowing whether it would really make any difference.
"So is the flashlight."
Jack Ma led them forward to another left turn.
There was another long corridor ahead, and then they turned right cautiously.
But suddenly, Jack Ma froze at the turn, and reluctantly pointed the flashlight along the corridor at the entrance to the double-layered bulkhead of the canteen.
"No..."
His voice was soft and weak, not even a whisper.
"What's wrong?"
Demo asked in a low voice, but Jackma just narrowed his stinging eyes and let the beam of light flash around the shattered doorway.
The bulkheads were loose at their joints, a tangled mess of tattered metal torn from the wall.
“It’s bad.”
He muttered:
“Those bastards have been here.”
“They’re everywhere.”
Michelle almost sighed.
The three of them stood shivering in the biting cold, and the flashlight beam weakened as their hands trembled.
“Let’s go.”
Finally, Jackma made up his mind.
“Walk quietly.”
As they approached the damaged door, Dimo sniffed the air.
"I smell something."
Jackma then slowly took a breath, the air was cold enough to make his lungs burn with ice, but nothing but the wet metal and himself He couldn't smell a damn thing besides the stench.
“I don’t smell it, what is it?”
“Spice, spoiled spice. It seems to be mixed with something? It’s blood, the smell of blood!”
Jackma turned back from Dimo's trembling eyes. Needless to say, the other party was now broken.
He could only turn the first corner, tiptoeing to the torn doorway, and look around the huge cabin in the siren-like red light. All real details were shrouded in darkness.
Dozens of tables were overturned and scattered everywhere in disorder, the dark walls were dented by gunfire, and chairs were scattered all over the floor - undoubtedly, this is a The useless remains of a barricade.
Of course there were corpses, piles of corpses, lying on the table and on the ground, with their limbs spread out, covered with frost, their open eyes shining with the light of ice crystals, and the blood underneath them turned into The strange and beautiful ruby glass pool.
But at least, nothing is moving.
Behind him, Michelle also raised a flashlight to let the light shine in.
As the darkness separates in front of the flashlight, many things are revealed that emergency lighting cannot.
“God Emperor, what’s going on?”
Seeing the terrifying slaughterhouse, Michelle immediately lowered the flashlight beam.
“You stay here.”
Jack Ma turned around and said something.
“Don’t run around, don’t make any noise, I’ll take out the supplies, and then we’ll go to the infirmary to have a look. The sealing measures there are the best, and there’s also an independent small oxygen generator. Maybe we can I can carry it."
He walked into the cafeteria, his boots crunching on the red glass splattered with frozen blood, and his breath was like a white mist, following him in the dim light. It moves downward and gradually dissipates.
Although it was not easy to keep a distance from the corpses, Jackma tried not to touch them, but occasionally he couldn't help but take a look.
(End of this chapter)