Little Fish - Chapter 2

Wei Zangchen waited for Gun Wen’s arrival. The first time they’d encountered the infected, both of them had been shocked to see such dangerous symptoms—wasn’t it the military’s job to contain such threats? At the time, the perimeter fence still functioned at 70% capacity, with two blind spots covered manually. Leaving Xiao Li behind, he took the crutches offered by Gun Wen and headed to the southwest corner of the roof.

Using his esper power to keep himself upright and stable taxed his body, but he and Gun Wen had a tactical agreement—when someone or something threatened the children, he’d be “allowed” to activate his powers. It prolonged how long he’d be stuck in the useless wheelchair, but the children could absolutely not be harmed.

With a thick layer of sweat pinning his bangs to his forehead, Wei Zangchen finally reached his position. Most of the roof was no longer safe for humans. He’d done his best to reinforce the stones, yet despite his powers, he couldn’t stop the natural decay of a poorly maintained building. The southwest corner had been reinforced back when their numbers had been higher… when the walls had held more life. Today truly seemed like a day for all those old feelings to rear their unwelcome heads.

Popping the locks on the sniper rifle, Wei Zangchen carefully took it out. It wasn’t the last of its kind within the institution, but it was the last of its kind above ground. Life adapted. Evolution was constant. A clouded conscience showed in espers and guides, yet normal humans affected with mania had an annoying tendency to attack at night. Their brains were little more than slurry inside their skulls, human decency gone, replaced instead with an undeniable urge to destroy anything tainted by the gate entrance.

Taking a deep breath, he picked up the bullets and slotted them in carefully. The tremor in his left hand was more pronounced than usual. There was absolutely something that could be done about his condition. After all, this had been a research lab. Yet Wei Zangchen refused to use the resources available for his own benefit. They’d lost most of the two underground floors to infection. All they could do was lock their once-friends inside and bury the second-floor entrance completely to keep them safe—holding onto vague, unrealistic hopes of one day finding a guide or healer-based esper. The first floor, being mostly administrative, lacked the complex machinery of the second. At the time, there had been much debate over whether to kill the infected and preserve the floor.

Back then, there had still been a sufficient supply of dried goods, basic medical stockpiles, and sundries. It had seemed more important to save food for the children. Slowly, time passed, and more of the first floor had to be locked down to contain infection. Until now, only the entrances to the electrical room and one storage unit remained safe. With just two functional adults left, Wei Zangchen now denied both of them access. It was far too dangerous to risk releasing someone previously infected.

With his sniper rifle loaded, the esper shimmied his way up onto the ledge to the right. Leveling the scope, he scanned the terrain until he found what Gun Wen had meant. Despite never having been used within or near an active gate, the generators were a popular target. Gun Wen had spent a lot of time tinkering with them, and Wei Zangchen supposed some sort of residual DNA marker had been left behind, acting like a beacon. Sharing his theory, he and Gun Wen had set up an easy slip trap, his sniping spot perfectly aligned. All defense of the institution lay in his hands, while all menial tasks fell to Gun Wen. Thankfully, they now had teenagers capable of parenting the littler ones, or the man would have gone bald from stress.

Tonight’s targets were two young adults. Their clothes were basic, torn, filthy with dried mud. Most likely, they’d wandered quite a way. Lining up the first shot, it hit its mark. The second adult wasn’t even aware of the brain matter splattering across them before the second shot landed.

Humanity was cruel.

An easy death for the suffering was all Wei Zangchen could offer. Two shots were all it took.

Lowering the rifle, Wei Zangchen extended his right hand. Flames engulfed the two infected bodies. Within seconds, nothing remained of either of them. Two existences, whose lives had once meant something to others, now lost to history.

Descending from the roof, Gun Wen waited, nervously wringing his hands before letting out an audible sigh of relief at the sight of him.

Offering a tired smile, Wei Zangchen shook his head.

“There shouldn’t be any others. I don’t know where they came from, but they’re gone.”

“The children heard the shots. The older ones have taken care of them.”

“Let them play longer tonight. Classes will be tomorrow morning instead.”

“I understand, sir. Will you be retiring?”

“No. That damn chair needs a good bashing. Xiao Li could have fallen today.”

“I can ask one of the older children for help with that.”

“No. I’ll handle it. Have the older ones read to the littles before bed, too. Shots bring up too many memories.”

Gun Wen lowered his gaze.

The first infected had been shot. Some of the children still remembered. They still remembered their anger and confusion. Yet, thankfully, the trauma was fading from the younger ones, who hadn’t noticed the slow decline in their numbers… not until children started being infected too.

“Yes, sir. I’ll give the orders and activate the generators… Perhaps tonight—”

Wei Zangchen quickly shook his head, cutting off the argument before it started. Gun Wen always thought he should be more selfish, that he should seek out medical aid instead of leaving everything for the children. But as long as they were hidden on the hill, he’d make sure to provide everything he could. Coldly, he shot his friend down.

“No. Nothing changes.”

Gun Wen exhaled through his nose, but he didn’t argue further. Instead, his voice softened.

“Then please take the first bath tonight. You’re shaking.”

To survive was to adapt. He was no longer in a position to argue all the time. Tiredly, Wei Zangchen mustered the slightest smile.

“All right. I let you get away with too much.”

Gun Wen’s returning smile was just as strained.

“I wish you’d let me get away with more.”

Wei Zangchen shrugged, attempting to lighten the mood.

“I know you do. I’m simply a little fish on the butcher’s block when it comes to you.”

A soft sigh fell from Gun Wen’s lips. He hated his self-deprecating humor.

“You’re not.”

“I think I am. I’ll never be the carp that climbs the falls. All we can do is keep riding the tiger and try not to fall off. Let me know if more come.”

“I will. Once the generators start, I’ll monitor the cameras. Don’t forget—it’s the third Saturday of the month.”

Wei Zangchen nodded, long eyelashes lowered with fatigue. How could he forget when he had his own personal calendar?

“En.”