Lost Land (GL)

Chapter 4: The Fourth Night

The sudden roar of the zombie, a guttural bellow of frustration, shattered the tense silence. The creature, its half-body trapped within the confines of the window, its blood-soaked face contorted in a grotesque mask of rage, was a terrifying sight.

It strained against the window, its decaying flesh glistening with a sickly sheen, its pale, lifeless eyes fixed on the two girls, a predator sizing up its prey.

Zhang Wan Ying, her heart pounding in her chest, her senses overwhelmed by a surge of adrenaline, could barely breathe. The creature's stench, a mix of decay and rancid blood, filled her nostrils, a sickly reminder of the horrors that lurked in this post-apocalyptic world.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl, the moments stretching out, each second an eternity. She felt a strange detachment, a numbness that made her body feel heavy, unresponsive. The image of the zombie's gaping maw, inches from her face, played on repeat in her mind, a horrifying tableau of impending doom.

Her body, frozen in fear, refused to obey her desperate pleas to move. "Run! Get away!" she screamed internally, her voice a desperate cry lost in the confines of her panicked mind.

But her body remained rooted in place, paralyzed by terror, a helpless victim awaiting its fate.

"Don't let go!"

Mo Ran's voice, a guttural shout, pierced through the fog of her fear. She felt a sharp tug on her arm, a searing pain that momentarily jolted her back to reality. She was lifted into the air, her feet losing contact with the solid ground.

She glanced up, her eyes wide with shock and disbelief. Mo Ran, her face contorted with exertion, her brow beaded with sweat, was hauling her up, her grip strong and determined.

She had been saved, a mere fraction of a second from a gruesome demise. The creature, its gnashing jaws inches from her face, had missed its mark, its attack thwarted by Mo Ran's quick thinking and even quicker reflexes.

A wave of gratitude washed over her, a feeling so intense, so profound, it choked her. She wanted to thank Mo Ran, to express her gratitude, but the words caught in her throat, a symphony of emotions swirling within her.

The situation, however, was far from resolved. They were perched precariously on the window ledge, their safety a precarious balance. The creature, its roars reverberating through the building, posed a constant threat.

But the most pressing danger lay in their current position.
Zhang Wan Ying, dangling in mid-air, held onto Mo Ran's arm for dear life.

Her grip, a testament to her desperation, tightened with each passing second. Mo Ran, her muscles straining, could not sustain this position for long. She was a strong girl, but even her strength had its limits.

"Don't be afraid," Mo Ran reassured her, her voice a calm contrast to the chaos that surrounded them. "It can't get to us."

Tears, a release of the pent-up emotions, welled up in Zhang Wan Ying's eyes, her fear a tangible entity.

"Don't let go!" she pleaded, her voice a trembling whisper. She clung to Mo Ran's hand, her life literally hanging in the balance.

Mo Ran, despite her own fear, felt a surge of empathy for the girl. She couldn't bear to see anyone perish, not when she could help. She was a pragmatist, a survivor, but she was also, at her core, a decent human being.

"Listen," Mo Ran said, her voice laced with urgency. "I can't pull you up. Grab the water pipe. Hold on tight."

Sweat streamed down her face, stinging her eyes. She gritted her teeth, her focus laser-sharp. She kept one eye on the zombie, its movements erratic, its roars a terrifying soundtrack to their predicament. The other eye, however, was fixed on Zhang Wan Ying, her movements a frantic dance of fear and determination.