Chapter 1337: The Victims of the Escape

The sound of the wind was like the roar of evil spirits, interweaving with the roars of zombies, playing a tragic melody of death.

The zombies' broken limbs and arms were flying everywhere, and the rotten blood gushed out like a fountain, dyeing the earth into a sea of ​​blood.

The scene was like hell on earth, full of blood and cruelty, a fierce collision between life and death.

Every moment demonstrates the cruelty and ruthlessness of the end of the world in this bloody storm.

But no one retreated at all. Their faces were splattered with corrupt blood, but that only added to their determination, like a group of steel warriors guarding hope in the darkness.

In each battle, the tacit understanding between them becomes deeper and deeper, and every look and every movement can be understood by teammates.

The power of unity is as indestructible as steel. They are like a tightly meshed set of gears, fighting in coordination and being invincible.

.........

In this way, the convoy continued along this dangerous road.

Fortunately, the journey was smooth at first, and before they knew it, they had already traveled most of the way.

Every step forward brings them closer to their goal and makes the hope in their hearts stronger.

But when the convoy finally slowly approached the junction of City C and City N, the road conditions suddenly took a turn for the worse.

I saw that the only passable road ahead was like a thorny road leading to hell, filled with the breath of despair and death.

It seems that every step may lead to an endless abyss.

Everywhere you look, abandoned vehicles lie sprawled in the middle of the road.

They were like steel behemoths that had died on an ancient battlefield, cold and lifeless, emitting a chilling breath of death.

These vehicles are covered in rust, like scars left by time, and the dust covers them like a thick mourning dress.

The car body was severely twisted and deformed, and its distorted posture seemed as if it had been ruthlessly ravaged by a powerful and malicious force.

Every dent and crack is a deep mark left by the tragic past.

Those strange shapes and abrupt broken lines seem like fragments of history, silently telling the tragedy that once happened here, which makes people shudder.

Some vehicles seemed to be cut in half by a giant axe from hell. The broken metal surfaces flashed coldly in the darkness, just like the scythe wielded by the god of death, emitting a suffocating death deterrent.

Some vehicles were crushed into scrap metal, with their bodies flat and twisted, like empty shells with their souls taken away, exuding endless sadness in this dead silent environment.

Inside the car, those lives had been gone for a long time, and now a horrific picture was presented, which was too horrific to look at.

They were a group of refugees fleeing.

Over a long period of time, their bodies have turned into sculptures of death, solidifying the final struggle and despair of life.

In a black sedan, the body of an old man was half lying on the seat.

His shriveled skin clung to his skeleton like old parchment, its wrinkles and grooves filled with dust and dried blood.

His empty eye sockets, which might have once been filled with love for life, were now dry and sunken like two dark abysses, staring blankly at the roof of the car.

It was as if he was still questioning the injustice of God at the last moment of his life.

His lips opened slightly, as if he wanted to say something, but he remained silent forever.

The body of the middle-aged man next to him was in a twisted posture, his right arm was broken, and the bones protruded from the rotten flesh, with a few shreds of torn clothes hanging on them.

The broken bones seemed to be silently protesting against this cruel fate.

His facial muscles had atrophied and his lips were stretched back, revealing a row of broken teeth, as if he was screaming silently.

The scream seemed to still echo in this small space, telling of his pain before death.

The tragic situation inside the car next to it was even more heartbreaking.

It was a tragic scene for a mother and her children.

My mother's body was lying on the seat. Her hair was sparse and dry, like a bunch of weeds, and some strands were still stuck to her rotten scalp.

There was a huge wound on her back, which was the result of being pierced by a sharp object.

Now, the flesh and blood around the wound has dried up, like black charcoal, exuding the smell of death.

She held a baby in her arms.

The tiny body had long since turned to bones, with only a few strands of soft fetal hair remaining on the skull.

The tiny finger bones were clenched tightly, as if the baby was instinctively seeking the mother's protection before dying.

What a deep maternal love that is, which never fades even in the face of death.

The older child next to him leaned forward and hit his forehead on the seat in front of him.

The skull was cracked and the brain dried on the seat and floor, mixing with the dust.

Those eyes that were once full of innocence are now just two black holes, surrounded by a circle of rotten flesh.

That young face is now unrecognizable, leaving only traces of death.

Looking at the overturned car again, the interior looked like it had experienced a bloody nightmare.

The bodies of several young men were tangled together, their clothes torn and stuck to rotten flesh.

It was as if he had experienced a fierce struggle before death.

One of the girls had a deep mark on her neck, a fatal mark left during the struggle.

Her face was unrecognizable, her skin peeling off like black mud, revealing the eerie white bones underneath.

The white bones looked particularly glaring in the dim light, like a silent accusation of the disappearance of life.

The boy next to her had several deep scratches on his arms, evidence of his companion's desperate attempt to survive.

His abdomen was cut open, and his internal organs had long been eaten by insects and ants, leaving only an empty abdominal cavity.

Surrounded by a circle of dried blood and rotting tissue, the scene was disgusting, yet it also made people feel deeply sad about what had happened to them.

Broken parts were scattered around the vehicle, like dismembered limbs, adding to the horror atmosphere.

This place is like a slaughterhouse forgotten by the world, filled with the smell of death.

Every part is like a shattered dream.

Once they were part of the vehicle, carrying people's hope of escape.

Now, it has become part of this horrific scene.

On both sides of the road, collapsed buildings are everywhere, standing there like tombstones, telling the story of their former glory and present desolation.

The broken bricks and cement blocks piled up into an insurmountable obstacle, like a ferocious beast standing in front of the convoy, blocking its progress.

These obstacles seem to be nature's punishment on mankind, ruthlessly cutting off mankind's path to hope.