novelTele Chapter 8 Responding to the Sound
Chapter 8 Responding to the Sound
01:07 AM.
Lin Xiaotang sat on the sofa in the second-floor living room, holding a walkie-talkie. This was the most difficult part of her shift; she was already feeling sleepy in the first half of the night, and the second half of the night was still a long way off.
The moonlight outside the window was faint, barely enough to make out the channel and battery level on the walkie-talkie screen. The rabbit plush toy on her lap had one ear drooping, looking like a exhausted little animal. She unconsciously tugged at that ear, listening to the occasional sounds from outside the window—a sound she couldn't quite distinguish as either the wind or the movement of a monster.
The white noise played for hours, the hissing of electricity filling the empty room like some kind of eternal background sound.
Then, human voices cut through the background noise.
"...Someone is here...This is..."
Lin Xiaotang froze. She thought she was hallucinating—three days of sleep deprivation often made her ears deceive her. But the sound appeared again, intermittent, like a signal struggling in water:
"...I am...Su Nian..."
"...Repeating...This is Su Nian...Lanshan...ZF..."
She instinctively turned the volume down to the lowest setting and pressed herself against the screen, afraid of missing a single word.
The woman's voice was hoarse and tired, but it was definitely a human voice, not a hallucination. She heard a name: Su Nian. A location: towards the Lanshan government area.
But she didn't know Su Nian. The name meant nothing to her. She didn't know what this voice meant to Zhang Xun, whether it was a spark of help or a trap leading to hell. She didn't even know where this "Su Nian" was—"ZF" could be the government building, the archives, the courthouse, or any building.
The signal lasted for about ten seconds, then fell silent.
She glanced at her phone: 01:07 AM. There were still almost two hours until her shift ended.
Lin Xiaotang gripped the walkie-talkie, her fingers trembling. She waited five minutes, turned the volume up to maximum, then down to minimum, and held it to her ear again. There was no sound.
She glanced at Zhang Xun's folding bed—his breathing was steady, and he was fast asleep. Qin Wei was in another corner, also fast asleep.
She hesitated for a long time. It was three in the morning, and her shift was about to end. Was this voice important? Was it worth waking Zhang Xun? If it was just an insignificant survivor, if Zhang Xun didn't even know this person...
But she remembered Zhang Xun's observation notes after his return, and the tense shoulders he wore every time he looked out the window. In this world, any piece of information could mean life or death.
She noted the time on her phone: "April 13th, 01:07 AM. The walkie-talkie received a signal that appeared to be from someone named Su Nian."
A moment later, she added below, "In the direction of the Arashiyama government, the exact location is unknown."
Then she continued to sit in the dark, waiting for her shift to be changed.
At exactly three in the morning, Zhang Xun sat up on the sofa. He was a light sleeper, like a taut bow, and any slight movement would wake him up. He heard a slight noise—Lin Xiaotang was moving.
He tiptoed out of the folding bed.
Hearing the sound, Lin Xiaotang looked up. Moonlight streamed in through the gap in the curtains, casting a pale, bright line across her face.
"Brother Xun," she whispered, handing over the walkie-talkie, "around one in the morning... someone spoke. They said... her name is Su Nian. She's in the direction of the Lanshan government. But... the signal's gone down, I don't know where she is."
Zhang Xun took the walkie-talkie and held it to his ear. Only white noise filled the screen.
"What else did she say?" His voice was tense.
"That's... all. The name, and the government's direction. The signal was very weak, only lasting a few seconds." Lin Xiaotang paused. "Brother Xun, do you know her?"
Zhang Xun's fingers tightened, his knuckles turning white. Su Nian. ZF direction.
But he didn't hear the voice. He couldn't be sure if it was her. The voice was unknown, the name could be the same as someone else's, and in this world, any information could be a trap.
"I'm not sure," he said, his voice low but clear enough, "her voice... I didn't hear it. But..." he paused, "it's related to the government, 70% likely it's her."
Qin Wei also got out of bed, still clutching the outdoor knife in her hand—she hadn't slept soundly either, waking up at the sound of movement. The three met in the darkness, the moonlight casting their shadows on the wall like three blurry silhouettes.
Zhang Xun typed on his phone, the screen's light illuminating his face:
"Su Nian, from the SWAT team, met me two years ago. She's from the ZF direction, exact location unknown, no more than 3 kilometers away. But I didn't hear her voice, so I can't be 100% sure."
This was the first time Qin Wei and Lin Xiaotang had heard this name.
Qin Wei took the phone and typed:
"If you didn't hear it, you can't verify its identity. It could be a trap, it could be an imposter, it could be anything."
Zhang Xun nodded. His expression was obscured in the darkness, but his voice was steady: "I know. But there's a 70% chance it's her... I can't gamble on the 30% chance it isn't."
He looked out the window; the darkness in the direction of the government buildings was as thick as ink, without a single light. Within a three-kilometer radius, there were dozens of buildings, and she could be in any one of them, somewhere—if it really was her.
"We'll try to contact her again tomorrow," he said. "For now... we'll continue our watch. If she's still alive, we'll send another signal. If we can still receive it, I'll listen for it myself."
He handed the flashlight to Lin Xiaotang, took the walkie-talkie himself, tuned it to that channel, set the volume to the lowest setting, and held it to his ear.
White noise. Hissing sound. No other sound.
But he didn't give up. He was waiting. Waiting for that voice that might never come again.
---
It was exactly 7:00 AM.
The three sat around on the floor of the first-floor living room. Breakfast was rice porridge—leftovers from last night, now cold, with a thin film forming on the surface. Lin Xiaotang poked a hole in the film with her spoon, scooped up half a spoonful, and put it in her mouth. The taste was very mild, just the aroma of rice.
Zhang Xun didn't sleep all night. He held the walkie-talkie to his ear all night, but he never received a signal again.
He put down his bowl, typed on his phone, and then handed the screen to the two of them:
"Su Nian, from the SWAT team, gave me the bow a few days ago, warning me of the impending disaster, and then went missing. If it really is her, she might be trapped somewhere in the direction of the government; her situation is unknown."
After reading it, Qin Wei took the phone and typed:
"The three most troublesome things are: 1. Her identity is not confirmed; 2. Her location is completely unknown; 3. If it really is her, after being trapped for three days, she may have run out of ammunition and water. But we don't even know where to start searching."
Lin Xiaotang stared at the words. The voice, hoarse and weary, seemed to drift from a great distance. She could be on the roof of a building, in a basement, or in any corner. They didn't even know if it was her.
She suddenly spoke up: "Brother Xun, what if... what if it wasn't her?"
Zhang Xun looked at her. There were faint dark circles under her eyes; she definitely hadn't slept last night. Her fingers gripped the rim of the bowl, her knuckles turning white.
He typed on his phone, turning the screen towards her:
"Even if it's not her, even if it's just a stranger among the survivors, I should still go. But if it's her... I can't not go."
Lin Xiaotang lowered her head, staring at the porridge in her bowl. The grains of rice sank to the bottom, like a silent testimony. She knew he would go. She had known since childhood that Zhang Xun was that kind of person—if someone gave him a bow, he would repay them with his life.
But this time, even the destination is vague, and even their identity is uncertain.
"Then... how do we find her?" she asked.
Zhang Xun typed:
"Try the walkie-talkie again tonight. If she responds, I'll listen in person to confirm her identity and location. If not... I'll have to search building by building in the direction of the government."
Qin Wei typed on her phone and handed it to Zhang Xun:
"I'll go with you. But we must first verify your identity and location; we can't just search blindly."
Zhang Xun wanted to refuse. His first reaction was to refuse—Qin Wei was a doctor, Lin Xiaotang needed her, and the shop needed her. But when he saw Qin Wei's eyes, that doctor's gaze—calm, yet undeniably firm—he swallowed his words.
He typed:
"Okay. But Lin Xiaotang will be minding the shop alone—"
Lin Xiaotang interrupted him: "I can."
Her voice was more steady than she had imagined. She looked up at Zhang Xun, then at Qin Wei: "I can guard the shop. You...you find her, then come back."
Zhang Xun looked at her for a long time. Then he nodded.
---
9:15 a.m.
The equipment was laid out on the living room floor, like some kind of ritualistic display. But this time, the preparations carried a certain tension of uncertainty—they didn't know exactly where they were going, what they were going to face, or even if the person they were looking for was Su Nian; they could only make the most general preparations.
Zhang Xun inspected the compound bow—the one Su Nian had given him, with the letters "SN" engraved on the grip. He knew his own skill level clearly: he had only practiced at the archery range for a short time, barely mastered the basics, and had limited accuracy.
The quiver contains twelve carbon fiber hunting arrows with carbon fiber shafts and replaceable arrowheads. Each one must be recycled to prevent waste.
"Try not to ejaculate," he told Lin Xiaotang in a low voice, "only ejaculate if absolutely necessary."
Lin Xiaotang checked the arrows for him, pinching each one to make sure the arrowheads weren't loose and the fletching wasn't cracked. She asked, "Brother Xun, can you hit the target?"
Zhang Xun shook his head with a wry smile.
Qin Wei's equipment included: an oversized first-aid kit, an outdoor knife strapped to the inside of her left arm, a steel pipe handle wrapped with tape for grip, and four spare batteries. Her movements were quick and steady, as if she were preparing for surgery.
Lin Xiaotang knelt beside the equipment, checking each item one by one. She reorganized Qin Wei's first-aid kit, placing the tourniquet on top: "Just in case, no need to search."
Qin Wei nodded, looking into her eyes: "Thank you."
Finally, Lin Xiaotang gave each person a pack of compressed biscuits and a small bottle of water: "Eat these on the way. Don't walk at night on an empty stomach."
Zhang Xun slung his main backpack over his shoulder and adjusted the shoulder straps. The secondary backpack was empty; it was for Su Nian—if she could still walk, or for her equipment—but if she couldn't, Zhang Xun didn't think about it any further.
As he bent down to fasten his belt, he felt something digging into his side inside his bag. Reaching in, he found a small, palm-sized plastic rabbit keychain—the one Lin Xiaotang usually carried on her bag.
He took it out and looked at her.
Lin Xiaotang lowered her head, the tips of her ears turning slightly red: "Take it with you, for safety."
Zhang Xun put the keychain back into his bag, near his chest. He didn't say thank you, but simply reached out and ruffled her hair.
Her shoulders trembled slightly, but she did not flinch.
---
Two o'clock in the afternoon.
They can't set off during the day—the ZF direction has a high concentration of infected individuals; they could count over fifty under their binoculars, and while daytime visibility would be good, the risk of exposure would be too high. Furthermore, they don't know their exact destination, or even if the person they're looking for is Su Nian.
They decided to set off at dusk, sneaking in at night and taking advantage of the infected's poor night vision. But the prerequisite was—they had to confirm the identities and locations via walkie-talkie first.
The days grew long and filled with anxiety. Zhang Xun used binoculars on the second-floor platform to observe the direction of the government buildings, trying to discern which building might harbor survivors from the architectural outlines. Qin Wei was organizing first-aid knowledge on the first floor, while Lin Xiaotang sat silently in a corner, clutching a rabbit doll.
Through the binoculars, there were more infected people on the street than yesterday. Zhang Xun counted three times, and the number fluctuated between fifty and sixty—some were in the shadows of buildings and difficult to identify. The government building, archives, courthouse, SWAT team station… several major buildings formed a blurry cluster in his field of vision, and he couldn't determine which building or corner Su Nian was in—if that really was Su Nian.
He drew the building distribution in the direction of the government on a piece of paper and handed it to Qin Wei:
「可能位置：1.ZF大楼主楼；2.档案馆；3.法院；4.特警队分站；5.周边附属建筑。」
Qin Wei looked at the map, frowned, and typed:
"The area is too large; searching building by building is impractical. We must wait for a second contact to confirm the location and identity."
Zhang Xun nodded. This was the most rational judgment, but also the most difficult—they had to wait, but the potential Su Nian might not be able to wait that long.
---
Qin Wei spread out several sheets of A4 paper on the first-floor floor and wrote down first-aid points with a ballpoint pen. Her handwriting was very neat, like a medical record.
"Wound care in the field: 1. Clean (rinse with running water for at least 30 seconds); 2. Disinfect (apply iodine or alcohol in a spiral motion from the center outwards); 3. Bandage (apply pressure to stop bleeding; do not suture unless in an emergency)."
"Identification of infected wounds: redness, swelling, heat, pain, pus, and fever. If these symptoms appear, double the antibiotic dosage. If there is no improvement within 24 hours, amputation should be considered to save the patient's life."
She paused, thought for a moment, and added another point:
"Treatment of psychological trauma: Provide companionship, avoid interrogation, and allow silence. Administer sedatives (diazepam, 2.5 mg orally) if necessary."
When Zhang Xun came downstairs, he saw Lin Xiaotang sitting in the corner, leaning against the wall, with a rabbit doll on her lap. Her eyes were open, but her gaze was unfocused, as if she were looking at something very far away.
He walked over and sat down next to her without saying a word.
After a long silence, Lin Xiaotang spoke up: "Brother Xun, do you remember the first time you saw me?"
Zhang Xun nodded. Of course he remembered. He was thirteen years old that year, and had just moved back to his old house. He was squatting on the ground repairing his secondhand mountain bike—which he had saved up his allowance for half a year to buy, and the chain kept falling off. A little girl was sitting at the gate of the neighboring yard, with two pigtails, holding an old rabbit doll in her arms, her eyes red, staring blankly at the wrench in his hand.
"You looked up at me," Lin Xiaotang said softly, "and then continued tightening the screws. I thought you'd sigh and walk away like everyone else. But ten minutes later, you pushed your bike up to me and asked, 'Can you ride a bike?'"
"I said no. You said, 'Come on up, I'll take you to buy popsicles.'"
She paused, her fingers unconsciously stroking the rabbit's ears—they still bore the crooked stitches he had sewn on later.
"That was the first time I smiled since my parents left," she said. "I had forgotten I could even smile."
Zhang Xun didn't reply. He remembered that afternoon when the little girl sat on the crossbar of the bicycle. The popsicle was melting so fast that she couldn't lick it all off, and the syrup dripped down her fingers. She cried as she licked it. He didn't know if she was crying about the popsicle or something else, but he didn't ask. He just rode very slowly, letting the wind dry her tears.
"After that, you came every day," Lin Xiaotang said, "to fix my bicycle, sew on rabbit ears, and chase away those who tried to steal my things. My mom used to say, 'Tangtang, Mom will be back soon.' She didn't come back. But you've always been there."
She turned to look at him. Her eyes held fear, but even more so, a stubborn trust, like a drowning person clinging tightly to a rope.
"You will come back," she said, not as a question, but as a statement, "You've never failed to keep a promise you made to me."
Zhang Xun looked at her. The dragging footsteps of the infected could be heard outside the window, but in this corner, only the candle flame flickered gently.
"I will come back," he said. "I promise you."
---
It was six o'clock in the evening, and dusk was falling. Zhang Xun sat by the window, the walkie-talkie pressed to his ear, tuned to that channel. White noise. Hissing. No other sounds.
He waited. He waited for that voice that might never come again, for that 70% chance.
As dusk fell, the light outside the window changed from grayish-white to grayish-blue, then to grayish-purple. The city was dark, and the twilight felt fleeting, like a videotape fast-forwarded.
The three began making final preparations. But this time, the preparations were tinged with a sense of unease—they had not yet confirmed their identities, their locations, or received a second signal.
Zhang Xun checked the quiver's securing straps, Qin Wei packed the spare batteries in a waterproof bag, and Lin Xiaotang stood to the side, twisting the hem of her clothes with her fingers.
"What if..." Lin Xiaotang began, her voice very soft, "What if we can't get in touch tonight?"
Zhang Xun was silent for a moment, then typed:
"Start by searching in the government's direction, do as much as possible. We can't give up on that 70% chance."
Lin Xiaotang walked up to Zhang Xun: "Turn around."
Zhang Xun turned around, his back to her. He felt her fingers on his backpack strap, moving slowly, adjusting the length of the strap little by little to ensure his balance. Her fingers occasionally brushed against the back of his neck, cool but steady.
"Okay," she said.
Zhang Xun turned back. Lin Xiaotang took a step back and looked up at him.
"Brother Xun," she said, her voice very soft, as if afraid of waking something, "you promised me you would come back."
Zhang Xun looked at her and nodded: "I promise you."
Qin Wei stood aside, watching this scene. Her expression was calm, but there was something soft in her eyes, like water flowing beneath the ice.
She walked over and gently hugged Lin Xiaotang—quickly and lightly—before letting go.
Lin Xiaotang was stunned. This was the first time Qin Wei had touched her on her own initiative, except for necessary medical examinations.
"Keep an eye on the shop," Qin Wei said, "and wait for us to come back."
Lin Xiaotang's eyes reddened, but she held back and simply nodded. She looked at Zhang Xun: "Contact us via walkie-talkie every half hour. Call immediately if there's any movement."
Zhang Xun nodded.
At 7 p.m., they still hadn't received a signal. Zhang Xun and Qin Wei decided to set off first, heading towards the government, and continue trying to make contact along the way.
Zhang Xun squeezed through the crack in the back door, Qin Wei following. The door closed gently in front of Lin Xiaotang, the sound of the metal latch hitting the door was very soft, like a period.
She stood in the darkness, listening to the two footsteps fade into the distance, from clear to blurry, and finally disappear. Then she returned to the window, sat down with her knees drawn up to her chest, her rabbit doll beside her, and the walkie-talkie on the other side, turned up to maximum volume.
Outside the window, the night was as dark as ink.
---
It's exactly eight o'clock.
Zhang Xun and Qin Wei were crouching in an abandoned guard post on the outskirts of the government area, about a kilometer from the possible cluster of buildings. The walkie-talkie had been crackling with static since evening.
At 8:17, the audio cuts in.
"...Is anyone there...? This is Su Nian..."
There was a lot of background noise, but it was definitely her voice. It was clearer than last night, but still weak, as if it were coming from a very deep place.
Zhang Xun pressed the call button: "Su Nian, this is Zhang Xun."
A crackling sound. Then that voice, hoarse: "Zhang Xun...you're still here..."
Zhang Xun's fingers tightened. Hoarse and exhausted, he was certain. That 70% certainty had become 100%.
"Where are you located? Which building specifically?"
"East side of the government building...archives...rooftop...trapped for three days..."
Zhang Xun and Qin Wei exchanged a glance. The archives. The rooftop. The exact location was finally confirmed.
How many people?
A prolonged rustling sound. Zhang Xun thought it had stopped and was about to repeat it when a sound came from the other end, even softer than before, like someone gritting their teeth:
"...I'm the only one...the rest of the SWAT team...got separated during the evacuation..."
"How are you feeling?"
Silence. Then rapid breathing, tinged with suppressed pain: "...Ammunition...gone...water...just a little bit left..."
Zhang Xun gripped the walkie-talkie tightly, his knuckles turning white. He looked at Qin Wei; her expression was calm, but there was something grave in her eyes—dehydration, depleted ammunition, trapped for three days. These were the death signals that doctors could understand.
"We'll arrive at dawn," Zhang Xun said. "Hang in there."
The voice responded quickly, with a sense of urgency: "...Don't come...It's too dangerous...There are too many infected there..."
The night was as dark as ink, with no lights or sounds, except for the occasional, damp, guttural roars from afar.
"I promised someone I'd come back," he said, his voice soft enough for her to hear on the other end of the walkie-talkie. "You promised me too, you'd hold on until then."
A long silence followed. White noise rose and fell like ocean waves, filling the gaps of waiting. Qin Wei's fingers tightened, digging into her palms.
Then the voice came, very soft, like a sigh, yet also like a promise:
"……good."
The signal is lost.
Zhang Xun put down the walkie-talkie and looked towards the archives. In the darkness, it was just an even darker shadow. Two kilometers away, he knew the exact location and confirmed the identity, but time was running out.
Qin Wei typed on her phone and handed it to him:
"Dehydration symptoms will only last for a maximum of 48 hours. We must arrive before dawn."
Zhang Xun nodded. He looked outside; the night was so dark it seemed impenetrable, with no stars and no moon.
"Let's go," he said, "Route B, cut into the back alley."
This is the most compromise option among the three alternative routes that the three had decided on in advance:
Route A: Main street, shortest but with the most infected people, too risky to reach before dawn.
Route C: A longer route, passing through abandoned factory areas. It's the longest but less crowded, and there's not enough time.
Route B, which involves detouring through alleys and passing the back alley of the old hospital, is the only feasible option as it is a moderate distance away and allows arrival before dawn.
---
It was exactly 10 p.m.
Zhang Xun and Qin Wei stood on a street corner outside the archives, fully equipped, the weight of their backpacks causing their shoulders to sag slightly. From here to the archives, it was still about 500 meters, the most dangerous part.
Lin Xiaotang's voice came through the walkie-talkie, crackling with static: "Brother Xun, can you hear me?"
"I heard you. It's confirmed, on the rooftop of the archives. Prepare to move in."
"...Okay. Don't forget every half hour."
"I won't forget."
Zhang Xun turned off the walkie-talkie and looked at Qin Wei. Her face was only a blurry outline in the darkness, but her eyes were steady.
"There's a narrow alley on the east side of the archives," Zhang Xun said in a low voice, "only wide enough for one person to pass at a time. It might be a shortcut. But with so many infected people, we have to be quiet."
Qin Wei nodded, gripped the steel pipe tightly, and followed behind him.
The two walked into the night. Their footsteps were light, like two nocturnal cats moving between ruins and shadows. In the distance, the outline of the archives appeared in the moonlight, and there was a blurry shadow on the roof—it could be Su Nian, or it could be a hallucination.
At 1 a.m., the walkie-talkie crackled to life for the first time: "Arrived outside the archives. Preparing to enter."
Lin Xiaotang sat by the window, hugging her knees, listening to the sound coming from the static. She looked out the window, where there was only endless darkness.
She gripped the walkie-talkie tightly and whispered, "Come back. You all have to come back."
Outside the window, a distant roar echoed, followed by more roars, spreading through the darkness like a chain reaction. But soon, all fell silent again.
She continued to sit in the darkness, waiting.
---
[End of Chapter Eight]