Chapter 332
Ste barely dodged in time, a spray of crimson narrowly missing her shoes. When she saw what
was causing themotion, she couldn''t help but be bbergasted.
This creature was at it again, making a scene. Last time it was covered in cuts and bruises; this
time, it decided to greet her with a mouthful of blood.
Cooper was ready to pounce, his body tensed for an attack, before realizing themotion was
just his own mutt causing trouble. He stepped back with a look of disdain, a low growl rumbling from
his throat as he scolded the dog for its shameless behavior. His growl softened into a worried
whine, showing his concern despite the scolding.
The two dogsmunicated in their own canine way.
Buddy sprawled on the ground, coughing weakly and wagging its tail at Ste, exposing its soft
underbelly. In just over a month, the once majestic and imposing beast had be emaciated,
hardly drawing breath.
Ste, speechless, sprayed the blood with disinfectant before cleaning the dog thoroughly and
dragging it into the backyard.
It had been over a month since she was home. Jasper and Rosie had taken care of the interior,
while Ste found some rope to secure Buddy''s limbs. He was nearly the size of a grown man, and
a single dose seemed about right.
While she was at it, Ste checked on Smoky and Snowy. The haze virus was rampant, and she
had feared she''d return to find them gone. To her surprise, they were huddled together, pecking at
dry grass.
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It seemed the haze virus was less severe on poultry, or Cooper wouldn''t have recovered so quickly.
The bunnies didn''t even acknowledge Ste’s presence.
Cooper stayed by Buddy''s side, worried about getting blood on himself, yet not wanting to stray too
far and lose sight of the situation.
Ste didn''t bother with Buddy any further and headed upstairs after disinfecting Cooper.
For the past month, except for a short rest while she was sick, she had been working nonstop. Even
her iron constitution was wearing thin.
She knew her family was far luckier than the patients in critical condition at the research institute.
Mild symptoms were bad enough. Critical ones were unimaginable, and the virus was prone to
mutation. There was no room forcency.
She turned on the air purifier, showered from head to toe with hot water, sshed disinfectant on
herundered clothes.
Everything and everyone needed a thorough cleaning.
She flicked on the lights andid out aforting spread of food: chicken soup, braised pork
knuckles, and seafood. The three of them, along with Cooper, indulged in the feast. It was the most
satisfying meal they had had since the onset of the haze.
After eating their fill, Ste put on protective gear to check on Buddy. The stubborn dog was still
breathing. Despite being at death''s door, he didn''t forget to wag his tail at Ste, his eyes begging
for sympathy.
Ste couldn''t bear to see him like this and untied the ropes binding his limbs, serving him a bowl of
high-calorie dog food.
After eating, Buddy didn''t leave. Hisrge yet gaunt frame curled up in a corner of the yard, his
watery eyes full of helplessness, pity, vulnerability, and cautious hope for a new owner.
"Bark!"
Coopery on the rooftop ss, cheering on his ailingrade. Buddy looked up, its eyes filled
with a pitiful longing as it stared at its leader.
Ste sighed and quietly closed the door.
Back on the second floor, she massaged her forehead and discussed with Jasper, "How should we
distribute the medicine we brought back?"
Even after donating all they could anonymously, it wasn''t enough. That was just for the southern
provinces. The haze virus had swept down from the northern inds, spreading in all directions.
Everyone had their selfish moments; otherwise, she wouldn''t have taken medicine from Collin.
Every second of illness was agony, especially the relentless cough that made life feel worse than
death.
She tried to stay optimistic but was acutely aware that the less fortunate wouldn''t get the medicine
soon. Many wouldn''t get it at all.
She only had fifty doses, and Buddy had already imed one.
Jasper thought for a moment. "The virus has evolved since thest outbreak I experienced. Many
people only have a few days from onset to death. Even if you want to give them the medicine, some
might not make it."
Ste''s heart felt heavy with the reality of this unpredictable and cruel catastrophe. She picked up
the radio and started contacting people, not prioritizing by status but by proximity.
After a long wait, a voice finally came through—racked with coughs, hoarse, and feeble, "Ste, are
you and Jasper holding up okay?"
Rosie, standing nearby, asked anxiously, "Uncle Austin, is Dn doing alright?"
"Rosie, Dn''s hanging on, keeps talking about you. He says he''s got to see you one more time..."
The voice was cut off by a severe, weakened cough, "Rosie..."
Both father and son were still breathing, Austin in particr sounding terrible. But he recounted the
recent events to them.
Themunity had been hit hard, with the radio channel going from panic, to noise, to tears, to
pleas for medicine, and then to a quiet stillness as no one spoke anymore. Every day brought new
infections, new deaths.
The haze made the air thick and still, carrying the smell of decay that grew from a faint whiff to an
overpowering stench.
The Porras family took the lead, and other homeowners joined in, donning protective gear—or
wrapping themselves in sheets or clothes—to remove the bodies from their homes and burn them
with gasoline.
No one knew the exact death toll, but they cleared the bodies every couple of days, taking turns in
themunity.
Green flies were everywhere, a brutal assault on the senses, leaving many unable to eat for days.
But they had to press on, to avoid unbearable conditions and prevent the spread of disease or the
virus.
Austin had hoarded some medicine, and with what Ste provided, their symptoms were less
severe, but the torment was nearly unbearable. He clung to life, wanting to care for his son, who
longed to see Rosie. But no matter how much they called out, House 50 remained silent, as if
evaporated.
Every day they knocked on door number 50, pleading or cursing, but all with the same desperate
wish to survive.
Austin worried too, but he knew those two were capable and must have gone to find help.
The insistent homeowners who wanted to break into number 50 for medicine were repeatedly
stopped by the residents of number 42, evening to blows.
The folks at number 42 were fierce, not sparing anyone who got in their way. The beaten
homeowners finally gave up hope.
It hadn''t urred to Ste that even in their absence, Cody and the others would defend number
50. Ste chuckled, showing concern for his health.
Austin panted, "I coughed up blood today. Feels like my insides areing out, and the fever
comes and goes in waves."
"Don''t worry," Ste reassured him, "you''re still far from death''s door."
At the Institute of Herbal Medicine, Ste''s days were split between autopsies and patient
consultations. She offered her diagnosis through the inte, her voice steady and reassuring,
"Eat well, sleep well, and you''ll pull through."
After a moment''s thought, she added another question, "How is Monkey doing?"
Austin paused, a shadow crossing his face, "He’s hanging in there, but..."
The shelter was overflowing with families, many of whom had been struggling even before the crisis
hit. The supplies were running low, and some had it worse than others. Over the years, poor
nutrition and theck of necessities had taken their toll, and they had already lost several people.
Austin''s own supply of medicine was dwindling. No matter how much it pained him, he couldn''t
change the harsh reality of their situation.