Apocalypse: Reborn with a Soul Sync Farming Space System-Chapter 131 Survivor

Ronan drifted in and out of consciousness.

Sometimes he opened his eyes and stared at the stained ceiling above him, and sometimes darkness swallowed him again before he could even understand where he was. His mind floated somewhere between waking and sleeping, and the pain in his shoulder dragged him back each time he slipped too far.

He did not know how long he had remained inside the janitor’s office.

His body had turned pale and his lips blue.

The blood covering him had dried into stiff patches across his clothes and skin, and the smell had turned sour and rotten. Even breathing near himself made his stomach twist, but he did not dare wipe any of it away. That blood had kept the infected from noticing him before, and it might still be the only reason he remained alive.

His lips had turned dry, and when he touched them with his tongue he tasted nothing but dryness and blood. Hunger gnawed quietly at his stomach, but he was thirstier. His throat burned with every breath as if someone had scraped it with a chisel.

Ronan forced his eyes open again. A thin strip of light slipped beneath the door. He stared at it for several seconds, his mind slowly clearing.

"If I stay here... I die," he muttered weakly. The words sounded rough and broken in the quiet room.

Ronan pressed his hand against the floor and pushed himself upright. His arm trembled from the effort and the moment he lifted his body the room tilted violently around him. He grabbed the edge of the nearby table before he could collapse.

His body slammed against it causing the faint sound of wood scraping against the floor echoing inside the small office.

Ronan stood there for several seconds, listening carefully for any movement outside the door. But there were no approaching footsteps, or any growls. The building remained quiet.

He slowly exhaled.

"Alright... easy," he whispered to himself.

Ronan placed both hands against the table and began moving it carefully. He lifted one end of the table slightly and pushed it inch by inch, adjusting his grip each time so the legs would not scrape loudly against the floor.

Sweat gathered along his temples by the time the table was pushed enough to clear the doorway.

He reached for the handle and slowly pulled the door open.

The corridor outside looked empty. Red mist drifted through the hallway in slow waves, hanging thick in the air like smoke. The moment it touched his face Ronan instinctively held his breath.

He stepped outside quietly and closed the door behind him.

No infected wandered nearby... and the silence was strange.

Earlier the building had echoed with agonising screams and growls, but now the hallway was completely still. Ronan kept his head lowered and forced his shoulders to droop slightly, copying the sluggish posture of the infected.

He walked slowly. His legs trembled with every step, but he kept moving toward the lobby.

When he reached the end of the corridor he stopped near the corner and carefully peeked out.

The lobby stretched wide before him. From a distance, he saw hundreds of infected crowding around a large truck parked outside the main entrance gate. They climbed over each other like starving animals, clawing at the metal as if something inside the vehicle had caught their attention.

Faint gunshots echoed from inside the truck. He knew they were survivors inside and that was why the infected were surrounding them.

Ronan remained still, studying the chaos. Then a low growl sounded behind him, and his body froze instantly.

Ronan lowered his head slightly and relaxed his shoulders, letting his posture sag the same way the infected moved. He did not turn around.

Heavy footsteps approached from behind.

From the corner of his vision, he saw the infected step into the hallway. The creature paused and stared at him for a moment, tilting its head slightly as it observed him. After a few seconds, it lost interest and rushed past him toward the lobby, drawn by the noise and movement around the truck.

Before he could sigh in relief, something else caught his attention.

From the side entrance, he saw several humans moving quickly along the wall. They wore helmets and carried baseball bats, their movements cautious as they hurried toward an SUV parked nearby.

Ronan narrowed his eyes. Without wasting time he followed after them.

His body protested immediately, but he forced himself to move faster. Each step felt heavier than the last as his strength slowly drained away, yet he pushed forward because that van might be the only chance he had to escape this place.

As he got closer he finally recognized the figures.

Don, Clark, and the others he was with before he took the watching shift. He had thought they were dead, but they somehow made it. Relief surged through him at the thought that they were his ticket to escape this hellhole.

Don and the others had already climbed into the van. The sliding door began to close.

Ronan’s heart slammed against its cage, watching his chance slip through his fingers. He gathered the last of his strength and rushed forward.

His hand shot out and grabbed the edge of the door just before it shut completely.

Clark turned instantly. His knife flashed up in his hand and the blade stopped only inches from Ronan’s skull.

Ronan raised his head weakly. "It’s me," he rasped.

Recognition flickered across Clark’s eyes. "Ronan Wayne, you survive." He said in a rather mocking tone.

But Ronan’s own expression changed suddenly. His eyes widened as he realized he had inhaled the red mist.

"Get in!" Don shouted from the driver’s seat as he spotted several infected breaking away from the swarm and charging toward the van.

Ronan grabbed Clark’s arm and dragged himself inside, taking Clark by surprise.

"You should ask if I’m willing to help," Clark said through gritted teeth. To him, feeding Ronan to the infected wasn’t a bad idea.

The engine roared to life and the SUV jerked forward... But the door refused to close.

One of the infected had grabbed onto the edge of it.

Clark immediately leaned forward and stabbed at the creature’s hand repeatedly, but the infected refused to let go. Its fingers clung stubbornly to the metal as it snarled and tried to pull itself inside.

"Let go you motherf**ker!" Clark yelled in frustration.

Ronan watched the swarm rushing toward them through the open doorway.

Without thinking twice, he shoved Clark aside with his remaining strength and kicked him outside. Clark collided with the infected and they both stumbled to the ground.

The other infected stopped and began feeding on him. "Ahhhhh!" Clark’s cry echoed from behind. His eyes stared at the van which appeared further and further away from his view. The view was cut off as more infected around him.

Before anyone could react Ronan slammed the door shut with a violent shove.

The others stared at him in utter shock, too stunned to speak.

Ronan leaned weakly against the metal wall, breathing heavily.

"I just bought us some time," he said quietly.