Chapter 601: Frenzied

There was a temporary hospital inside the resettlement shelter. The thirteen people who had died from festering wounds caused by the poisonous sun had already been carried away. The rest were crammed into a small ward, their faces pale and their gazes vacant. The sores on their bodies were still spreading, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the terrifying fear in their hearts. They had witnessed the state of those thirteen as they died—a state so gruesome that "horrific" was not enough to describe it. At the thought that they would end up the same way, some people suddenly broke down, some curled up in corners whimpering, and one person suddenly leaped up and slammed their head against the wall.

Blood blossomed like a flower on the clean white wall. The person who had hit the wall slid down, collapsing limply. Someone screamed, and someone cried out. Doctors and nurses rushed over. They skillfully attempted to resuscitate the patient, but it was too late. The blood on the wall began to drip. The doctor shook his head and gestured for a nurse to wheel the body away, telling them to call the body collection team to get the corpse to the crematorium as soon as possible.

A cleaning lady tried to wipe the bloodstain from the wall with a cloth. But the blood had started to dry, and it was difficult to clean off the white wall. Instead, she only managed to spread the stain several times larger. It now looked like a grotesque, horrifying face, silently watching everyone in the ward.

"Ma’am, don’t use a cloth. Use hydrogen peroxide. Wait for it to foam up, then wipe it with a paper towel," a passing nurse said, seeing the smeared wall and offering the cleaning lady a helpful tip.

After the nurse left, the cleaning lady picked up her cloth and wiped it a couple more times.

"Hydrogen peroxide is medicine; we can’t waste it. I’m sure I can get this clean, I refuse to believe I can’t," the cleaning lady muttered stubbornly, continuing to wipe. A patient sitting in the corner stared at her blankly.

Outside the ward, a doctor hurried past. Two more people had died in the adjacent ward, freeing up two beds. The patients sitting on the floor swarmed out. The bodies in the next room were not even cold yet before the beds were snatched up by the rushing patients.

The doctor shouted, trying to stop them, but how could they hear him? Even if they did, no one cared. Getting a bed meant they could lie down and rest sooner, and it also meant they would receive treatment faster.

A mixture of curses and screams filled the air as the ward descended into chaos. Members of the body collection team arrived with a gurney and asked the doctor where the bodies were. The doctor pointed inside the ward. The dead lay on the floor without a shred of dignity, the festering sores on their bodies emitting a foul stench. The patients fighting for the beds trampled heedlessly over the corpses. Faintly, they could still hear someone crying for help.

"These people have all gone mad," a member of the body collection team commented coldly.

"I’m about to go mad myself," the doctor beside him added flatly.

—

Inside the space, now that their refining technique had become more proficient, they could process six or seven tons of salt ore daily. Everyone had a large refining cauldron, except for Zoe and Annie.

Evelyn Ford wheeled a cart of watermelons over from the storage area. Annie volunteered to cut them for everyone, and Zoe eagerly trotted over to help.

Everyone had been working hard all day, so it was time to take a break, eat something, and replenish their energy.

The watermelons had been purchased before the apocalypse. They were all Premium Watermelons, and every single one was incredibly sweet.

They still had quality inspection stickers on their rinds. Annie was quite skilled at cutting watermelons. Even though he was small and didn’t have much strength, he cut the fruit into neat, even pieces.

"One-hour break!" Evelyn Ford used a megaphone to call everyone over for watermelon. Wendy was the first to run over.

"I’m dying from the heat, I’m dying!"

Annie quickly handed Wendy a slice of watermelon and a spoon, and even poured her a glass of iced cola. He was so thoughtful.

"Wow, a huge slice of watermelon! It has so few seeds, and it looks so sweet."

The others gradually walked back as well. Ronan Kendrick came to Evelyn Ford’s side and sat down next to her. He was still fresh and dry, with no sweat on his forehead, and not even a hair out of place.

Evelyn Ford handed him a slice of watermelon, and Ronan Kendrick said quietly, "Thank you."

Evelyn Ford smiled and placed the megaphone on a nearby table.

"Good thing there’s a breeze in this space, so there’s no risk of carbon monoxide poisoning. It was just too hot this afternoon with all those big cauldrons fired up," Quincy’s voice complained before he even appeared.

"If you’re not worried about the dust, you don’t need to wear a mask. You can take off your jacket, too. The salt ore isn’t toxic, so you don’t have to worry about inhaling anything harmful."

"Why didn’t you say so sooner? I wore two masks today, it was so stuffy and hot I almost got heatstroke." Quincy took off his mask, his face flushed red from the heat. Zoe, who was usually her father’s little darling, immediately burst out laughing at him.

"Dad, your face is as red as a monkey’s butt! Hahaha..."

Quincy pulled out a small mirror to check his reflection, and his vain display made everyone roll their eyes.

"Ever since my hair grew back, I look ten years younger. A man really does need a thick head of hair."

Quincy looked around at everyone, his gaze finally landing on Peter Owens’s head.

"Peter, your hairline is getting a little high. Watch out, or you’ll go bald."

Peter Owens was busy enjoying his watermelon. Hearing Quincy’s words, he choked a little, then waved his hand dismissively.

"I don’t care about that. If I go bald, I go bald."

"Tsk, you really don’t care about your appearance at all? Have you given up on finding a wife?"

Peter Owens shrugged. "Mr. Quincy, stop teasing me. Who cares about finding a wife these days? Eating your fill and just staying alive is the only thing that matters."

What Peter Owens said made sense, and everyone agreed.

Quincy pouted. "Well, you’re making the rest of us sound awfully shallow."

"If you want, you’re welcome to rejoin our bachelor squad," Peter Owens said, pointing to Ethan Dawson, Officer Graham, Taylor Vance, and Zion Lowell beside him.

Before Quincy could even say anything, he received a death glare. Seeing the menacing, not-quite-a-smile in Wyatt Vaughn’s eyes, Quincy immediately chickened out.

"Peter, don’t drag me into this! Wyatt, let me explain."

"Adults are so childish," Zoe said from the corner, holding a slice of watermelon bigger than her face as she watched Quincy and Wyatt Vaughn with a look of dismay.

Annie agreed wholeheartedly. "That’s why we have to grow up fast."

"Will we become that childish too?"

"Of course not, I swear," Annie said, raising three fingers. His dead-serious expression amused Evelyn Ford, who was sitting nearby.

When Annie noticed Evelyn Ford watching them, he blushed beet red in embarrassment.

"Aunt Ford, we were just joking," he said.

Evelyn Ford laughed to herself. "You two carry on, then. I won’t disturb you."

Turning her head, Evelyn Ford shared what had just happened with Ronan Kendrick.

"Are you still going to the warehouse to collect supplies tonight?"

"Yes, I still have to go. I’m going to be quite busy for a while, so you should get some good rest tonight. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be back as soon as I can; there isn’t much to collect tonight."

Evelyn Ford took Ronan Kendrick’s hand and tickled his palm.

"I know."

After an hour’s rest, everyone went back to refining the salt ore. They didn’t put out the fires and leave the space until six-thirty in the evening.

That afternoon, the base’s broadcast system was playing continuously. Meanwhile, over at the resettlement shelter, the number of residents who had died from the poisonous sun had reached thirty-two.