Chapter Eighteen: Provincial Expressway

When Xie Han hurried back to the minibus, Xu Qiang had already filled its tank. Seeing Xie Han return safely, everyone cheered, looking at him as if he were a hero. Their expressions made Xie Han blush a little; after all, he had merely drawn the zombies’ attention, hardly a feat worth such acclaim.

Once Xie Han boarded, Qi Feiwu understood the urgency of time and quickly accelerated the minibus to fifty kilometers per hour. In just a few minutes, they sped past the gas station. The zombies there, deprived of Xie Han’s presence, slowly wandered back toward the station. As the minibus rushed by, some zombies chased after it, but the timing was perfect.

After passing the station, another burst of cheers erupted. Only ten more kilometers ahead lay the provincial highway; once they entered it, barring any mishaps, they might reach the provincial base by nightfall and finally enjoy a peaceful night’s sleep.

Xu Qiang pulled a few magazines from his pocket and tossed them to Xie Han, saying calmly, “I spotted some bullets at the station, so I grabbed them.” His haul wasn’t limited to fuel; he also produced four Model 40 pistols, handing one and two magazines each to the three youngest members. With pistols in hand, the minibus rang with laughter and chatter, the firepower of their group instantly boosted, their security improved.

The ten kilometers of road were not far; after fifteen minutes, they finally glimpsed the entrance toll booth to the highway in the distance.

Places once inhabited invariably harbored zombies, and this toll booth was no exception. Everyone was cautious. Qi Feiwu approached slowly, while Xu Qiang and Chu Tianhe had their guns poking out the windows, ready to fire at the slightest provocation. For the three youngest, though it was their first time holding guns, they gripped them with nervous excitement, closely watching the outside. It seemed only Xie Han remained indifferent.

The outcome was unexpected. The area before the toll booth was littered with slain zombies. From their shriveled bodies, it was clear they had been killed some time ago. Evidently, another group had passed through, eliminating the zombies. Survivors were not limited to their own group; judging by the direction, the others had also taken the highway toward the provincial base.

This was no surprise to Xie Han. He had already anticipated it when observing the others’ vigilance, though he chose not to say so. Maintaining a high state of alert is vital, as it spares unnecessary casualties. This was a rare group, united and loyal—a priceless quality in the apocalypse. Xie Han understood that individual strength was insignificant in this world; only the power of a team ensured survival, and this group was his chosen refuge.

The minibus passed smoothly through the toll booth and soon entered the highway. This road linked the capital of Wangtian Province with the capital of Donghai Province, stretching over eleven hundred kilometers. Perhaps no corners were cut during its construction, for three and a half years had wrought little change. The only difference was the once bustling road now lay empty, cold and silent.

On the highway, the minibus finally reached a breakthrough speed of seventy-five kilometers per hour—its limit. At this rate, two hours would suffice to reach the provincial base, and after sunset, a restful sleep might indeed be possible. Buoyed by this hope, the passengers broke their usual silence and lively conversation filled the air.

But after just ten minutes, Qi Feiwu, driving, suddenly signaled danger, instantly putting everyone on edge. She pointed to the rearview mirror. “Look behind us.” Xie Han turned to see a giant vehicle approaching rapidly, overtaking the minibus. Listening closely, he could discern the sound of more than ten vehicles trailing behind, clearly a large human convoy.

Xu Qiang watched for a moment, his unease growing. “Heavy roadbreaker. This group actually has a heavy roadbreaker—a vehicle usually reserved for the military. They're no ordinary team.” The heavy roadbreaker, newly equipped by the army in ’48, was a six-wheel-drive behemoth weighing one hundred and twenty tons, yet capable of reaching speeds of one hundred and ten kilometers per hour. Even heavy tanks couldn’t match that.

This convoy moved fast, catching up in minutes. The minibus, three meters tall, was dwarfed by the roadbreaker—its wheels alone matched the minibus’s height, not to mention its towering superstructure. Its giant diamond drill at the front was smeared with dark blood, evidence of countless zombies crushed beneath it.

As the minibus and roadbreaker crossed paths, a young man with dyed blonde hair poked his head from the roadbreaker’s cabin. The wind distorted his hair, but he seemed unconcerned. He raised his middle finger at the minibus and suddenly blared the roadbreaker’s horn.

“BEEP... BEEP...”

The sudden, thunderous horn blast crashed like a giant bell beside their ears, its immense volume shattering the minibus’s remaining glass. The passengers, unable to withstand the noise, momentarily lost their hearing, panic erupting in screams. The minibus staggered drunkenly along the highway, swaying dangerously close to the guardrails.

Watching their reaction, the young man aboard the roadbreaker burst into wild laughter, shouting, “With that junk car, you made it this far—consider yourselves lucky! Otherwise, I’d have crushed your minibus to pieces!” Finished with his taunt, the roadbreaker roared off, ignoring the minibus slowed by the deafening blast.

Trailing behind were five large tractor-trailers, their iron containers fitted with firing ports, machine gun barrels protruding from within. Sandwiched between these were three BMWs and a Mercedes, likely carrying the leaders of the convoy. Following the BMWs was a Sinopec tanker truck, its engine’s roar betraying a full load of fuel. At the rear were six assorted sedans; with their windows closed, it was impossible to see the passengers.

Once the convoy thundered past, the minibus came to a complete halt. Qi Feiwu, unable to cover her ears while tending to the vehicle, had her eardrums ruptured by the horn’s blast, blood trickling from her ears. As soon as the minibus stopped, she could bear it no longer, clutching her ears and moaning in pain. The others fared little better; stunned and dizzy, the weaker members like Yang Huaiyuan even vomited. The entire team seemed to have lost their fighting capacity after those horn blasts.

Xie Han was affected least, though his scalp still tingled and his ears rang with metallic noise. Gradually recovering, he stood and kicked the minibus’s interior in frustration, cursing, “Those bastards! If I ever meet them again, I’ll blow their brains out. They’re utterly despicable.”

Xu Qiang, now recovered, managed a bitter laugh. “Blow their brains out? More likely they’ll do that to us first. That convoy has at least a hundred people, plenty of heavy weapons. Damn, if only we had a roadbreaker like that, we wouldn’t have to fear the damned zombies. We could just roll over them—thousands wouldn’t stand a chance.”

Chu Tianhe swallowed repeatedly, rubbing his hands. “Yeah, damn it. If only we had a roadbreaker like that, the journey wouldn’t have been so grueling.”

The heavy roadbreaker left everyone in awe—even Xie Han felt a pang of envy, though that was all. The thought of seizing it never crossed his mind; the machine guns on those trailers were no joke, and their flesh and blood would be shredded in an instant by such a metal juggernaut.

Once everyone regained their composure, Qi Feiwu tried several times to start the minibus, but it wouldn’t budge. She shook her head. “Looks like something’s wrong with the vehicle.” Hearing this, Xie Han’s mood, already sour, worsened. He cursed, “Should’ve shot out their tires when I had the chance.”

Yang Huaiyuan dug out the toolbox from the pile of junk, hopped out, and dove under the minibus. With decades of repair experience, he could pinpoint the problem just by the sound of the engine.

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Third update delivered… Where are the votes? The bookmarks?