Dizziness!
An intense feeling of dizziness!
Shawn's consciousness was hazy, and he almost threw up last night's dinner.
At some point, everyone around him had disappeared, leaving only a blurry, indistinct scene.
A constant buzzing in his ears kept irritating him.
Shawn vigorously rubbed his chest, feeling as if he was trapped in some confined space, unable to breathe.
He struggled to sit up, lowered his head, and shook it, and only then did the dizziness gradually fade.
Shawn opened his eyes, and the overlapping world before him slowly recomposed into one, but he slowly raised his hands.
"Sheriff, what have I done?"
Shawn stared at the black muzzle that was almost poking his nose and shrank his head.
The man in front of him was wearing a light green state police uniform, with a gold star badge pinned to his chest, which was enough to grant him jurisdiction across areas.
He held a.357 Colt Python revolver, the standard weapon for sheriff-level officers.
From the gunpowder smell and temperature emanating from the muzzle, it was not difficult to guess that this gun had just been fired.
"It's the Deputy Sheriff…"
Deputy Sheriff Badge and Revolver
The man crouching in front of Shawn subconsciously breathed a sigh of relief when he heard the voice, shifting the muzzle slightly but not fully holstering it.
The father and son he met yesterday had taught him to be wary of normal people… Leaning back against the edge of the steel plate, the man raised his chin at Shawn and introduced himself.
"Rick… Rick Grimes, what's the situation with the army now?"
Rick's uniform was mostly soaked, and his finger resting near the revolver's trigger twitched uncontrollably, but his deep eyes, tinged with a hint of composure, remained fixed on Shawn.
It was also at this moment that Shawn noticed the soldier's corpse not far from Rick.
A large hole had been blown in the jaw by a large-caliber pistol, 貫通 from the lower jaw all the way to the top of the head, and blackened blood was oozing out.
But what was most shocking was the condition of this corpse!
The dry, cracked skin, like old leather that had been repeatedly kneaded, was grayish-black, with necrotic muscle tissue and hollow eye sockets… All of it indicated that this was no ordinary corpse.
Shawn's pupils slightly dilated, his lips parted slightly, and he murmured its name in a dazed whisper.
"Walk… Zombie?"
Noticing that his tone was a bit exaggerated, Shawn quickly cleared his throat.
He seemed to be starting to understand his current predicament.
Before Rick could speak further, Shawn suddenly stood up, and with a gust of wind, reached out and slammed down the tank's top hatch!
The hatch clamped a pale arm that had snuck in; the hand was almost touching Shawn's skin, and a strong smell of decay assaulted his nostrils.
Shawn was almost certain that if this hand touched him, his skin would be easily torn.
Almost instinctively, he used all his strength, and the crisp crunching sound of 'ka ka ka' like crispy chicken pieces came, the sound of flesh sticking to bone detaching made Shawn's scalp tingle.
But Shawn still gritted his teeth and completely sealed the last gap of the top hatch.
Clatter--
The pale arm fell between Shawn's legs, twitching a few times, covered in black blood.
The entire process didn't take more than 10 seconds, but Shawn's forehead was covered in a thin layer of sweat.
"I… My name is Shawn, and I think I know why you're in this state."
Looking back at the Deputy Sheriff, who had only recently woken up, Shawn was filled with mixed emotions.
Before coming here, he was just an ordinary person.
After graduating from university, he happened to encounter a wave of unemployment; he was laid off before he even started working.
To keep his family from worrying and to avoid starving outside, Shawn ultimately chose to enter the industry, but this entry was somewhat different from the usual entry.
Shawn entered… a slaughterhouse.
The phrase 'sharpening the knife for pigs, cattle, sheep, fish, and geese…' described Shawn perfectly.
From a clear-eyed college student to a skilled butcher, who knew how much hardship Shawn had endured?
Stunning, slaughtering, bleeding, cutting meat, deboning… Shawn was incredibly proficient in the entire process, even the master butcher at the slaughterhouse praised Shawn's talent.
But just when Shawn had saved enough money and was preparing to open his own shop, eagerly anticipating becoming his own boss, he inexplicably appeared here.
He looked down at the army combat uniform he was wearing, then at the completely sealed tank around him, and he no longer held out hope of returning.
Shawn sighed, deciding to bluff for now: "I don't know, we got separated, and I saw you as soon as I woke up."
Rick nodded slightly at his words, pursing his lips as if he wanted to ask something, but in the end, he didn't voice any questions.
The two remained silent, but outside the tank's steel plate, the Zombie Horde continuously pounded.
Whoosh whoosh -- buzz -- whoosh whoosh -- buzz buzz --
"Hmm?"
Suddenly sensing something, both men looked up almost simultaneously, their gaze falling on the radio at the front of the vehicle.
Unlike Rick's look of surprise, Shawn, having just recovered, seemed to remember something, feeling a faint excitement, with a glimmer of hope in his eyes.
He quickly took two steps forward and grabbed the radio.
Rick also rushed to Shawn's side, as if clutching a lifeline.
"Hey, you idiot, it's you… you in the tank, is it comfortable in there?"
A young voice spoke, with a hint of mockery.
But given the situation, neither of them cared about anything else, and Shawn asked decisively: "Are there still Zombie outside the tank?"
"Finally spoke… static… You really should see it from my angle, you'd be terrified, but you're lucky, the Zombie have all gone to take care of that horse, you can come out now."
"It seems the plot hasn't changed too much because of me." Shawn felt a little relieved.
"Are the weapons and ammunition in the bag outside? Do we have a chance to get them back?" Rick quickly asked.
"…static… Don't worry about any bag, don't even think about it! Take whatever you have now and get out of there quickly!"
The young voice suddenly lowered, becoming somewhat urgent, and after giving directions, he quickly cut off the mic.
Shawn turned and exchanged glances with Rick, and the two immediately sprang into action.
They scavenged a grenade, an entrenching tool half the length of a forearm, and a Beretta pistol with 15 rounds of ammunition from the dead soldier.
Although he was wearing a combat uniform, Shawn, who grew up in China, was naturally far less skilled at using firearms than the man who was once a Deputy Sheriff.
Clutching the entrenching tool tightly with both hands, a drop of sweat slowly trickled down Shawn's temple.
He could even hear his own heartbeat now.
"Ready?" Rick looked back, and Shawn nodded fiercely, having made up his mind.
Rick opened the top hatch.
The connection point of the top hatch only made a faint 'creak' sound, yet it still attracted three or two scattered Zombie nearby.
Bang--!
Without the entrenching tool in hand, Rick looked at the nearby Zombie and decisively fired his gun.
Decisively Firing
The gunshot echoed through the street, and a Walker fell heavily from the tank; at that instant, Rick felt thousands of murky gazes.
"Damn it, we need to move fast!" Rick growled, quickly exiting through the top hatch.
Shawn exited the tank, swung the shovel at a slowly approaching Walker, and muttered.
"Shawn, Shawn, see Wu but do not accept."
"You blind thief, you wouldn't lie to me, would you…"