The World Ends In 27 Days

Zeyu watched the first truck leave Xiling, but he couldn’t quite believe the others would follow.

Beside him, Shichen leaned over the controls, switching between the cameras that still worked as soldiers climbed into vehicles and hurried to close the doors against the heat.

"They’re taking everyone," Shichen said, enlarging the western camera view. "The men by the rubble are coming back."

Zeyu watched them cross the screen.

One soldier stopped to adjust another man’s equipment, then helped him toward a truck. Neither looked back at the shelter. Zeyu wondered if they were relieved to leave or already thinking about what they would bring next time.

His rifle lay across his thighs. It felt heavier now that he wasn’t waiting to raise it every few seconds.

He wanted to set it down, but Hanchuan and Jingwei were still at the entrance. Until they came back, putting it aside felt too much like deciding the danger had passed.

"Tell me when Commander Zhao Mingyuan gets into his vehicle," Jingwei said through the phone on the desk. His voice sounded rough, even though he had barely raised it all afternoon.

Zeyu leaned forward when the commander appeared beside Captain Du Cheng. They spoke briefly before Commander Zhao Mingyuan climbed into the back of his vehicle. The captain closed the door and stayed beside it while the other soldiers boarded.

"The commander’s inside," Zeyu reported. "Captain Du Cheng is still counting his men."

Shichen glanced at him, and Zeyu realized he had been counting too. He had seen where each of the soldiers on the cameras had gone. The dead man had already left in the medical transport.

Everyone was being taken back. One of them just hadn’t walked to his vehicle.

Captain Du Cheng finally climbed into the last truck. It drove across the dusty ground where his soldiers had demanded to be let inside, leaving the broken gate and equipment case behind.

Zeyu waited until the truck disappeared from the road camera before leaning back. His chair creaked, and the sound seemed strangely loud now that nobody was speaking.

"They’re gone," Zeyu said, still watching the road.

"Keep watching," Hanchuan replied through the phone. "We’re on our way back."

Shichen kept the camera views on the wall.

Sunlight fell across the empty concrete, and a loose chain lay beside the ruined gate. Nobody stepped out from behind the building. No vehicle returned. Zeyu kept expecting something to move anyway.

His shoulders were aching by the time Hanchuan and Jingwei entered the room.

Jingwei went straight to the controls. Hanchuan stopped beside the table and studied the empty approach, taking his time before speaking.

"The inner door stays closed," Hanchuan said. "We’ll check the damage from inside until we’re sure they haven’t left anyone behind."

"The western door is still holding," Shichen replied. "I’ll check the frame again from our side. We won’t be fixing the main gate this afternoon."

Hanchuan nodded, then looked down at the rifle across Zeyu’s lap.

"You can put that down," Hanchuan told him.

Zeyu placed it carefully on the table. His fingers didn’t want to uncurl, and he rubbed them against his trousers while Hanchuan turned toward the corridor.

All afternoon, Zeyu had wanted the soldiers to leave.

He had thought that once they were gone, he would be able to breathe properly again. Instead, he was still sitting there with aching hands while Hanchuan walked away as though there was nothing left to say.

"Did you know they would leave?" Zeyu asked.

Hanchuan stopped and turned back. "I knew they couldn’t stay out there forever," he replied. "I didn’t know when Commander Zhao Mingyuan would decide he’d had enough."

Jingwei stopped switching between the cameras. Shichen stood beside the table with his tablet in one hand. Neither interrupted, leaving Zeyu to work out how to ask what was really bothering him.

"What if he hadn’t?" Zeyu asked. "What if he’d kept sending them?"

"Then we would have kept defending the door," Hanchuan replied.

Zeyu remembered the soldier falling. He hadn’t seen Hanchuan pull the trigger, but he had watched the man’s companions drag him away. His boot had caught on the tool beside him, and someone had stopped to pull it free.

That small movement kept coming back to Zeyu. He wished he hadn’t noticed it.

"You would have killed more of them," Zeyu said quietly.

"If they kept trying to get in," Hanchuan answered. He looked at Zeyu, then at the other two men. "I wasn’t going to let them reach Zhiyi just because you were there to see what I did."

Heat rose beneath Zeyu’s collar. He wanted to tell Hanchuan that wasn’t what he meant, but he couldn’t quite make himself say it.

Some part of him had expected Hanchuan to stop because his friends were watching. They knew what he had done in his first life, but knowing about it was different from standing beside him while he did it again.

Hanchuan hadn’t waited for them to be ready. He had seen someone trying to get through the door and stopped him.

"We warned them," Jingwei said. His eyes remained on the road camera. "Hanchuan warned them, and so did I."

"I know," Zeyu replied. He pressed his hands against his knees and looked up at Hanchuan. "I know why you did it. I just don’t know how I’m supposed to feel about it."

Hanchuan’s expression softened a little. Without the hard look he had worn at the entrance, he seemed exhausted. Zeyu wondered when his friend had last slept long enough for it to make a difference.

"You don’t have to figure that out tonight," Hanchuan said. "You can eat dinner without deciding what you think of me."

He left before Zeyu found an answer.

Shichen watched him go, then set down his tablet and headed toward the kitchen. Jingwei returned to the cameras. Zeyu was grateful that neither of them tried to keep the conversation going.

He sat for a few more minutes, looking at the same empty stretch of road. Eventually, he stood and walked toward the medical room.

The door was open and Zeyu stopped just outside when he saw Hanchuan sitting beside Zhiyi’s bed.

His rifle had been put safely out of the way, and Qinghe stood at the counter rinsing a cloth in the basin.

Neither man spoke.

Hanchuan lifted Zhiyi’s hand carefully and held it between his own. Zeyu had expected him to look the way he had at the entrance, calm enough to make everyone else feel unsteady.

Instead, Hanchuan bowed his head over her hand. His forehead almost touched her fingers, and his shoulders began to lower as though he had only just realized how tightly he was holding himself.

"They’re gone," Hanchuan whispered. "You’re still safe, with me, at home."

Zeyu stayed in the doorway. Hanchuan had faced armed soldiers without flinching, but now he sat bent over Zhiyi’s hand, waiting for an answer she still couldn’t give him.