Chapter 399

Chapter 399: Chapter 399

"Move along." The man tapped on the hood of the car, shooting Suzy a rather disgusted look. "Zone C, Space 13. Park it there."

That was too easy, and Suzy felt bad for wasting points to conceal the interior. Still, it was better than evoking suspicion. In the end, she allowed herself to feel relieved and moved along as instructed, entering the base.

Once she parked her van in the designated spot, she decided to take a look around the parking lot. Mark was still asleep, and she thought it was a good idea to familiarize herself with the new surroundings.

A few meters further stood a box truck with its rear doors wide open. A faded cotton quilt was laid across the bed inside, stained with dark blotches that left its original pattern unrecognizable.

An elderly man with graying hair sat on the edge of the truck bed, a tin cup resting on his knees. It was half-filled with water, a few dried leaves floating on the surface. He wasn’t drinking—just holding it in his hands, gazing absently toward that small slice of sky visible above the high wall in the distance.

The sound of Suzy’s footsteps snapped him out of his daze. He turned his head, his lips moving as if to say something, but in the end he merely nodded in silent greeting.

Suzy nodded back and kept moving.

Rounding a bend, the view opened up slightly. This was the boundary where Zone B met Zone A—an open stretch of ground without designated parking spots, the dirt packed hard underfoot.

A few makeshift shelters stood scattered across the space. Their frames were cobbled together from scavenged iron pipes and bamboo poles, while the roofs were patched from worn canvas and plastic sheeting, an uneven mosaic of mismatched colors.

Underneath the largest shelter, several oil drums burned with small, low flames, acting mostly as braziers for charcoal that filled the air with a mixture of charred wood and damp ash.

A group of men sat huddled around the fire, knees touching, holding tin mugs or empty tin cans with faint wisps of steam rising from the rims. They kept their voices low; Suzy was a few paces away and couldn’t hear them clearly, catching only scattered fragments.

"...up north...", "...water source...", "...another team gone..."

Suzy slowed her pace, keeping her distance.

An occasional snap echoed from inside the brazier, throwing off a few sparks that quickly died in the ashes. One of the men looked up and darted a glance toward her—there was no hostility in his eyes, but no friendliness either, just a casual check on her presence before he lowered his head to sip from his cup again.

Suzy walked past them and glanced in the direction of Zone A.

The vehicles in Zone A were distinctly different.

Roof racks had been fitted onto several off-road vehicles, loaded with tied-down fuel drums and spare tires. Though the paint jobs bore their share of scratches, they were far better maintained than the rigs back in Zone C. Beside one black SUV, someone had even pitched an outdoor tent. The door flap was pulled halfway open, revealing a dim yellow glow and the vague silhouette of someone moving around inside.

Yet even in Zone A, the post-apocalyptic atmosphere was unavoidable.

Discarded tires and rusted metal frames lay piled in the corners. Wild weeds pushed through the cracks in the gravel, withered and scrawny, leaning to one side in the wind. Not far off, a white sedan had a shattered window; the broken glass had been swept into the shadows beneath the car and left forgotten.

Scrawled sloppily across the vehicle in spray paint was a line of text: Have meds. Contact me.

The lettering was jagged, like a quick scribble, followed by a string of digits, though the last few numbers had been scratched beyond recognition.

Suzy stood beside the car for a moment. A gust of wind rolled an empty tin can across the ground, sending it clattering into a tire with a hollow metallic clunk.

She raised her eyes and saw a row of barbed wire lining the top of the distant perimeter wall. A few dead leaves were caught in the mesh, shivering softly in the wind.

Standing there for a short while, Suzy rubbed her chilly arms, then turned to head back.

On her way back to Zone C, she passed a long-abandoned pickup truck. Half the bed was filled with coal slag that had hardened into solid clumps, covered in a layer of dust. The driver’s side door was left ajar. Her eyes brushed past it, catching sight of a crumpled photograph on the passenger seat. One corner had curled up, the image faded under the sun, leaving only the blurry, barely recognizable outline of a group portrait.

She didn’t linger, averting her eyes as she picked up her pace.

Zone C was dimmer, with fewer lights and darker paths.

From a distance, Suzy spotted her vehicle parked in Space 13. A faint, warm yellow light glowed through the window from inside the RV.

As she drew near, the scent of instant noodles drifted toward her, mixed with the rich aroma of sausage and marinated tea eggs—a steaming, fragrant draft rising sharply against the cooling air.

Mark was leaning over the counter, forks and spoons in hand, seemingly fishing for noodles. Hearing the door, he turned his head toward her and smiled. "Just in time. It’s ready."

Suzy stepped inside and closed the door behind her.

The soft yellow light inside the RV washed over Mark, softening the contours of his profile and making his already refined features look effortlessly striking.

Two bowls sat on the counter with the noodles already divided, steam curling gently upward.

Mark pushed one bowl toward her, resting his spoon on the rim, and slid a small side dish over as well. Arranged neatly on the dish was a sliced sausage, two halves of a marinated egg, and a small handful of shredded dried fish.

"Eat up," he said.

Suzy sat down across from him. She looked down at her bowl, then darted a glance at his.

His bowl was plain—just noodles in clear broth with a few dried scallions from the seasoning packet floating on top.

"You gave everything to me?" Suzy asked.

Mark had already taken a bite of his noodles. Hearing her question, he looked up, talking through a mouthful before waving a hand dismissively: "...I can’t eat that much."

"You just recovered from your injuries. You should eat more," Suzy said.

"Honestly, I’m not that hungry," he swallowed and smiled candidly. "Besides, I sampled it while cooking. It’s enough."

Suzy looked at him for a moment and didn’t push further.

She picked up a slice of the marinated egg with her fork and took a bite. The savory, spiced flavor melted over her tongue, seasoned just right. The noodles were cooked to the perfect firmness, the broth rich and infused with the flavors of the sausage and dried fish.

"How is it?" Mark asked eagerly.

"Good," she replied, her voice soft.

Mark glanced up at her, then went back to stirring his noodles, his tone equally gentle. "That’s good then."

They ate in silence for a while, the quiet cabin filled only with the faint clatter of cutlery against porcelain and the occasional slurp of noodles.