Chapter 1387 The Call of the Stars (Thirteen)

"When I ran out of the underground subway tunnel, the sunset on the ground looked brilliant and gorgeous. The ruined city was like a huge black vortex, and terrible monsters occupied it.

I knew that I had to fight them to survive, but after just two hours, I realized that my enemies were not these monsters.

In order to get rid of the mucus that stuck to my body in the subway car, I had to peel off part of the skin on my arm. The wound was painful, but more fatally, the sanitary conditions here were likely to cause the wound to be infected. I had to find a place to treat the wound quickly.

I don't expect to find any professional medical equipment, at least there must be a clean water source, and it would be best if there were some cloth that could be used for bandaging. Food and sleep are what I can consider after I get rid of this damn pain. thing.

I don't know if it's my illusion, but this pain made half of my body numb. I've been injured a lot in the past, but none of them hurt like the one on my arm at this moment, which made my muscles numb and my head dizzy.

As expected, I got separated from my companions, but I was glad that the chatterbox was still with me. He greatly relieved my mental pressure. It's always a good thing to have a member in a good mental state in the team.

I think I may be on a street in New York, but it's really hard for me to tell clearly, after all, I've been away from the earth for too long.

Soon, I found that I was lucky. There was a hospital on the street where the subway station was, and fortunately, there were no more terrible monsters along the way.

Although I was still far away I saw sparse black shadows in the clouds above, but they seemed to have no interest in a weak creature like me, which made me wonder another thing. If the end of the world really came in this universe, could such a small number of monsters destroy the entire human civilization?

But I have no time to explore such a grand question now. I just want to rush to the hospital as soon as possible.

The good news is that before the sun sank into the horizon, I came to this abandoned hospital and found a series of medical supplies that I might need, such as iodine, hydrogen peroxide, bandages, cotton swabs, etc. in the treatment room on the second floor.

This hospital is not big and looks old. There are old-fashioned radiators installed in the corridors, and the grilles of the blinds are falling down in a mess, but there is no disgusting mucus here. I also found a relatively clean ward on the third floor. , maybe I can sleep here tonight.

I started to bandage myself with those medical supplies. The small animals with sharp teeth and claws helped me a lot. When the tightness of the bandage came from my arm, I had a rare sense of security.

Great, I think, when things are extremely expensive and scarce, and people are in a difficult situation, finding what you want can bring more comfort than I thought.

And when I finished everything and came to the ward, I bid farewell to the last rays of sunset today through the gap in the curtains, leaning on the bed and waiting for the darkness to fall. I really need a good sleep.

After nightfall, I felt a kind of sleepiness in my heart. I am a person who can tolerate irregular work and rest, but I was sleepy very early today. Fortunately, I was not hungry. I pulled the quilt tightly and lay down.

When I was lying in bed, I felt sleepy in waves, but then faded away. I knew I needed sleep, but I couldn't fall asleep. I turned over instinctively, but touched the wound on my arm, which hurt so much that I almost jumped up.

After a long time of tossing and turning, I finally felt a little dazed, but at this moment, the tightness on my arm that gave me a sense of security became weaker and weaker. I thought the bandage was loose, which made me very uncomfortable, so I raised my arm to check the condition of the wound.

Unfortunately, blood seeped out again. I wanted to get up and bandage it again, but the sleepiness was like a pair of big hands pressing me down on the bed. My body was numb, my head was dizzy, and the hazy illusion made me convince myself that I was not so delicate. I would get some sleep and everything would be fine.

But the sweat produced by running soaked my clothes, sticking the not-so-comfortable fabric to my skin. Every hair could feel the dampness and heat. There was a regular "da da" sound outside the window. I thought it might be raining.

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A late summer rain dragged me into an endless dream, the Monstera leaves washed by rain, the water seeping into the soil, the damp dark gray brick walls, and the "squeaking" sound made by the large, ill-fitting rain boots my father often wore when he stepped over the threshold.

I dreamed of my childhood in Englewood.

After my mother died, I went through many adoptive families and was finally abandoned in an orphanage in this small town in New Jersey. In my memory, all the time I spent here was gray, like a photo placed casually on the table and faded by the sun.

After I moved my mother's grave here, I always visited her after the first thunderstorm in late summer.

The feeling of dampness and heat became even stronger. I shouldn't have walked into the cemetery park wearing such a thick coat. I was covered in sweat, or maybe it was rain, but I endured the unbearable dampness and heat and came to my mother's grave.

When I saw the photo, I found that I missed her more than I thought. But for some reason, her photo was covered with a thin layer of fog. I stretched out a hand and wanted to put the photo on the page. Wipe away the dust.

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But just as I stretched out my hand, I felt my arm was heavy. I turned my head and found that the sleeve of my jacket was caught on the branches of the bush. So I stretched out my hand and started to deal with the difficult bush.

Suddenly, in the peripheral vision, the fog covering the photo dissipated, and my mother's eyes turned into two holes. I was so frightened that I retracted my hand and fell to the ground, but I felt a pain in my arm.

When I woke up again, I found myself lying on a hospital bed. The even snores of small animals next to me reminded me that this was reality, and the bandage on my injured arm had completely unraveled.

After the skin was peeled off, the processed subcutaneous tissue appeared brown-black, and the blood squeezed out by countless broken blood vessels was viscous and entangled. When I saw it for the first time, I felt a kind of visceral feeling. Inner disgust.

I took a few deep breaths and untied another roll of bandages to re-bandage. When I finished everything and fell asleep again, a terrible itch spread along my arms to half of my body.

Itchy, itchy, itchy...

I couldn't stand it anymore, my thoughts began to become confused, even crazy, and a terrible anger lingered in my heart - Why are you itching? Didn't I handle it promptly enough? Why do you have to give me trouble now? Am I not miserable enough? !

Half asleep and half awake, my consciousness was tearing apart everything frantically. I was woken up by the screams of small animals. When I woke up again, there was another bandage stained with blood and muscle tissue fragments.

And when I saw my arms, I started vomiting like crazy.

The current look of the wound is so disgusting. The blood on my other hand shows that I not only untied the bandage just now, but also scratched it frantically, causing the medicine I applied previously to have dried and not yet The coagulated blood and the flesh foam produced by scratching formed a ball.

I felt no pain, just nausea.

I felt like I was being pressed against my chest and fixed to the ground unable to move. Above my head were the upturned iron pieces and dark rust from the subway ceiling.

And when I turned around, I discovered that the mucus that held me in place was secreted from the wounds on my arms, and the bugs that almost fell into my mouth were what I vomited out of my stomach pouch. .

Something is coming out of there.

When this terrible thought occurred, I felt pain in more places all over my body, as if sharp hooked feet pierced my skin. I became a pupa being broken through, and a hollow corpse was torn out.

I can no longer resist the attack of fear.

But what is clearer than fear is a kind of arrogance that is unique to humans.

Nothing in this world is nobler than human beings. This terrible arrogance expanded rapidly in my heart, and made me realize that what is more terrible than death is becoming a monster.

Even if I don't want to become a god, what can make me degenerate and become an ugly insect?

If someone asked me to do this, I would tell them to get out immediately.

The most praiseworthy thing about human beings is wisdom. If anyone wants to let madness replace reason, then I would rather abandon this weak body in exchange for spiritual greatness - eternal greatness.

I smashed my elbow joint completely with the concrete stumps, I severed all the fascia and muscle with my dagger, and I sliced ​​off my lower arm.

The night passed and day broke.

Get out of here, those cowards. "

The cursive English under the tip of the feather pen fell to the last arc. Schiller, who had written a long string of words in one breath, put down the pen and rubbed his sore wrist.

He looked up at the time. Three minutes before the appointed time, there was a knock on the door downstairs.

Schiller stood up, walked down the stairs and opened the door of the small clinic, and Matt appeared outside the door carrying a food box.

Matt raised the Japanese food box with the cherry blossom pattern printed on it, shook the wine in his hand, and said: "I saw last time that you still like to eat sashimi, fresh tangerine sea bream." And Cabernet Sauvignon ice wine, don’t you want some?”

"It seems that you are determined to bribe me." Schiller opened the door of the clinic and stepped aside to make way for the blind lawyer to come in.

The two walked to the sofa on the first floor and sat down. Matt opened the food box, and Schiller looked at the bottle of beer. Matt said while placing the plate: "Last time, I saw that you were not very interested in sake. I guess I prefer a sweeter wine.”

"You're right, I'm a Potter, and only those picky old antiques like sherry."

Schiller went to the kitchen to get two wine glasses, and poured a glass of wine for himself and Matt. Matt picked up the tachyon, but before he could pick up the food, he took his hand back with some hesitation.

"I can see you're worried. If you have anything, just ask."

Matt pursed his lips and said, "I'm worried about those kids, especially Spider-Man, whether he's Peter Parker or someone else."

"Spider-Man's intimate mother, huh?"

Matt laughed sheepishly, and Schiller handed him the wine glass and said, "Not only one Spider-Man has described Nick and you as parents. Compared with Nick's high demands on them, all Spider-Man's Like to tell Daredevil about their growing pains.”

"Don't say that, they'll be happy to talk to you too."

"But I didn't fulfill my responsibility as a teacher." Schiller tilted his head slightly and said, "At least not before."

"But..." Matt paused, showing an embarrassed expression, then looked at Schiller with his lifeless eyes and said, "But even if you want to fulfill this responsibility, you don't have to..."

Schiller looked back at Matt and said.

"Since the laziness and lack of progress of the young heroes are partly due to my negligence in guiding them, I should naturally try to make up for it, right?"

"They actually did make progress..."

"The kind of progress that has been made in dealing with protests in a district in New York for two months without any movement?"