Chapter 134: Reasonable Suggestions

Chapter 134: Reasonable Suggestions

Christopher killed the engine and spun around in his seat, fishing out a pack of cigarettes. He offered them to the group.

Matthew reached under the backseat, grabbed a case of bottled water, and started passing them around too.

A cop pulled out a lighter, and Christopher leaned in to get his cigarette lit.

He was a heavy smoker. He took a long drag, held it in, letting the smoke fill his lungs, and then exhaled a thick cloud just before he felt like he was gonna choke.

Matthew pointed to the two officers next to him and said to James, "Meet my colleagues, Kurt Lowe and Allan Jennings."

James was parched.

He didn't even respond, just twisted the cap off his water bottle and chugged it. After quenching his thirst, he finally managed a smile and said, "I'm James. This is my girlfriend, Emily."

Next to Emily, Isabella straightened up and shyly added, "I'm Isabella."

It was dangerous outside, so the car windows were all shut. All four cops, including Matthew, were smoking.

They'd been on edge all day. Now, they were finally starting to relax a bit.

Even though the car was filled with smoke, James and the girls didn't complain. They knew they weren't the ones calling the shots here.

It was already dark.

With no lights on, the car was silent. Except for the glowing tips of cigarettes, you couldn't see much.

After a long pause, Isabella's scared voice broke the silence, "What happened today? Those people... those monsters, why did they turn like that? I knew a lot of them; they were my colleagues at the hospital."

In the dim light, Christopher couldn't see Isabella's face, but he still looked her way and said calmly, "It's a viral infection. Highly contagious, probably spread across the whole city."

Isabella didn't quite get it, "A virus? Like SARS?"

Matthew chuckled, "Way crazier than that. You saw it yourself when we got out of the hospital. Those infected folks don't recognize anyone and just bite whoever they catch."

No point in keeping secrets anymore. Things had gone too far for that.

James pulled out his phone, but the screen still showed no signal.

Christopher took a long drag of his cigarette, glancing at James, "Don't bother, it's useless. Communications have been down since noon. Not just civilian devices, even the police command center is out. By the way, you guys are really lucky someone used a radio, and we happened to be passing by."

James silently put his phone away. He looked at Christopher's barely visible face in the darkness and asked, "Is the whole city like this, or just part of it?"

Before Christopher could answer, Matthew jumped in. He sighed, "With communications down, it's unlikely any place is safe. Since last month, we've had a bunch of violent assault cases. Looking back, those people were probably already infected."

Emily sat up straight and looked at him, puzzled, "If that's the case, why didn't you deal with them then?"

"We didn't know it was a viral infection!"

Kurt, dressed in his police uniform and bulletproof vest, looked young, about the same age as James, "No one expected this to happen, no one could have imagined there was a connection."

James fell silent.

He had never studied this issue.

In fact, he had been tirelessly working on virus prevention and had tried various ways to warn the outside world. Despite keeping all dangers confined to the basement, he couldn't stop the virus from spreading massively outside.

Officer Allan had been quiet since getting in the car. Seeing the tense atmosphere, he glanced at Christopher in the driver's seat and asked, "Captain, what should we do now?"

Christopher rolled down the window a crack, tossed out the cigarette butt, exhaled the last of the smoke, and said seriously, "First, let's find a place to eat. Then, we'll head back to the station."

This was a normal line of thinking. Both Christopher and Matthew subconsciously believed the police station was the safest place.

As he spoke, Christopher was about to start the engine.

"Wait a minute!"

James called out from the back, "Mr. Taylor, can we hear my opinion?"

Christopher was slightly surprised and stopped what he was doing. He turned around in his seat and said, "Go ahead."

"It's already dark. The streetlights are off, which means the power supply has been cut. The virus is spreading much faster than we imagined. Although those infected zombies don't have visual capabilities, the darkness will still cause us trouble."

James racked his brain for all the info he had about the city. "It takes at least forty minutes to get to the police station from here, and that's assuming the roads are clear and we're driving at no less than 37 miles per hour. You saw the cars at the hospital entrance; if we don't use the sidewalks, we can't drive out of here. Heading to the station now, all the main roads are likely blocked, and we'll have to take detours. If we encounter any danger, the consequences could be dire."

"Both you and us have already expended a lot of energy since this morning. What we need most now is food and water, and then a good night's sleep. When the human body is extremely fatigued, judgment and reaction times become sluggish. Forget about shooting; even running away would be difficult."

James spoke eloquently in the darkness.

It wasn't that he was glib; every word he said was well-founded.

He believed his words should convince Christopher.

Finally, recalling the fuel gauge he saw when he got into the car at the hospital entrance, James added a crucial point.

"This car is almost out of gas; it won't make it to the station."

Christopher thought for a moment and didn't insist on his own opinion. He turned around completely and asked in a very serious tone, "Do you have a better suggestion?"

"Let's go to my place! It's not far from here. It's not on a main road, so there shouldn't be much traffic, and it should be easy to get there."

James's gaze was calm and full of confidence. "It's safe there, and I have enough food and water. And, of course, gasoline."

---

Manuel Barnett really liked the city of Auroravale.

He thought the climate here was nice, and the environment was decent. Especially compared to the thick smog that blanketed northern cities like a heavy blanket, the air here was clean and didn't make breathing uncomfortable.

From the moment he walked into the business class cabin of the plane, the young and pretty flight attendant had been smiling at him.

At least, that's what Manuel thought.

Taking advantage of this, when the flight attendant brought him coffee, Manuel secretly touched her hand. She didn't scream; instead, she gave him a sweet smile.

He was tall, and years of exercise had filled him with muscle. His broad shoulders filled out his Versace jacket without making him look too bulky; overall, he looked very well-proportioned.

Manuel always thought he was very handsome. He was willing to spend a lot of money on skincare and facial treatments, to the extent that he even outspent some women. The large sums of money he invested yielded the desired results. His skin was smooth, his complexion healthy, and his beautiful facial contours could make even celebrities envious.

So, when he got off the plane, Manuel made sure to walk past the flight attendant who had been paying attention to him.

Then, he found a small item in his palm.

It was a folded piece of paper with a string of numbers on it—the girl's phone number.

There are many wealthy people in this world.

Manuel was the type who was unconventional and didn't care much about money.

He often vacationed in this city and didn't want to waste time waiting for a cab. So he simply bought a car here. When he got out of the airport, the chauffeur who had been informed in advance had already brought the car to the exit. Manuel put his luggage in the trunk and drove off alone.

The golf course on the outskirts of the city was close to the airport. The environment there was nice, and the food was to Manuel's liking. The doormen and waitstaff hadn't changed; they were the same as when Manuel had left six months ago. He had booked a room in advance and planned to spend a few pleasant nights here.

The car slowly stopped at the entrance of the luxuriously decorated golf course hotel. Manuel took his luggage out of the trunk and casually pulled out a bill from his pocket, handing it to the valet as a tip.

The valet didn't seem to recognize him.

That wasn't surprising; there were too many guests coming and going every day.

Just as Manuel was pulling his suitcase and preparing to walk towards the hotel lobby, he suddenly stopped and turned to look at his car.

The valet had already gotten into the driver's seat and was adjusting the seat position to park the car.

His face didn't look right. It was very pale, almost eerie.

His movements were stiff, and when he gripped the steering wheel, Manuel saw that the valet's body was trembling. However, it was only for a few seconds, and he might have been mistaken.

I must have been sitting on the plane for too long, making me paranoid.

Shaking his head self-deprecatingly, Manuel walked into the hotel and took out his phone, dialing the number of the pretty flight attendant.