Chapter 194: Hospital
By the time they arrived, the hospital had already been partially cleared. Only a few dozen zombies remained. The scavengers made quick work of them, using only machetes and wooden shields. They didn't even need to fire their guns. Months of brutal survival had sharpened these people into efficient killers.
"Griffin!" Hank barked. "You and Leo stay with the trucks." The rest of the team follow me inside. Move fast." The two scavengers he assigned to guard duty were his lackeys. It was fitting—dogs should guard the door.
"Once inside, grab every medicine you see! I don't care if you can't read it— just take everything!" With orders given, Hank took two men and headed toward the inpatient wing. He had another goal. "If I remember right... Last time, Team 3 found a little nurse here." A nasty grin spread across his face. He pushed open the doors and stepped into the darkened hallways.
The moment he entered the building— A deep, unnatural chill ran through his body. It wasn't cold from the season. It was bone-deep, soul-freezing cold. Something was wrong. Hank shivered, his breath turning visible. "What the hell? Winter's not here yet... why is it so cold?" He muttered, rubbing his arms as he kept walking.
Everyone who stepped into the hospital—whether in small groups or alone—felt an eerie cold seep into their bones the moment they entered. It wasn't the kind of chill from a drafty room but something unnatural, something that made the hairs on their arms stand on end. "This place gives me the creeps! Let's hurry up, grab what we need, and get the hell out of here!"
A group of scavengers entering the building were visibly unnerved by the inexplicable cold, quickening their pace without even discussing it. They spread out, searching in different directions. The hospital's medicine storage had already been raided months ago by supply teams from the larger bases, leaving behind only scraps. But that was precisely why the hospital wasn't crawling with zombies—there was nothing left to attract them. "Still... it's weird," one of them muttered. "Why aren't there any zombies inside?"
Just because there weren't many outside didn't mean the place should be completely empty. They'd been inside for a while now, and aside from a few scattered Immortal lurking near the entrance, the hospital was eerily still. Too still. "Eh, whatever. Probably another group came through and cleaned them out," a younger scavenger shrugged, gripping his homemade shotgun as he spoke nonchalantly.
Without hesitation, he strode toward the utility room at the end of the corridor. But before he could get close, an icy draft slithered out from the gap beneath the door. His pupils shrank. A thick, white mist leaked from the cracks, curling in the air like steam from a freezer. It was as if the room wasn't a storage space, but a walk-in refrigerator. "Hey! I found something over here!" he called out, gripping his shotgun tighter. With cautious movements, he nudged the door open with the barrel.
Hissss—
A wave of bitter cold slammed into him, making him shudder involuntarily. The mist rolled out, dispersing slowly, revealing what lay inside. There was a man. Or rather—a frozen corpse. The body had turned into an eerie ice sculpture, frozen solid mid-motion. From his clothing, the man was clearly another scavenger, probably from one of the big bases. His many-pocketed vest, the small backpack strapped to his shoulders—still bulging with medicine—and even the rifle lying on the ground all screamed "raider."