Chapter 130: Li's Bet
The Florida sun was stronger than Georgia's, turning the highway asphalt into a shimmering, oily sheen under the blazing heat.
A while ago, there had been wind and rain, but now the sky burned bright and merciless.
Clementine sat in the passenger seat, her head resting against the window. Her eyes were half-closed, and her eyelashes trembled faintly.
She had been like this for a long time—silent, motionless, breathing so lightly it was as if she feared disturbing something.
Li gripped the steering wheel, glancing at her from time to time. His lips moved slightly, but he said nothing.
He didn't know what to say.
As they left Savannah, they encountered a small horde of Walkers.
A few dozen birds burst out from the roadside forest and swept toward the highway.
Li stepped on the brakes, stopping the car in the middle of the road, waiting for them to pass.
Clementine was dozing when the sudden stop jolted her awake. She rubbed her eyes and looked outside.
Then her body froze.
A Walker was walking along the edge of the horde, wearing a plaid shirt with sleeves rolled up to the elbows and cowboy trousers.
She knew that shirt too well.
Her father's favorite—blue plaid, faded collar, and a small flower she had once drawn on the left cuff with a ballpoint pen when she was little. A mark that could never be washed away.
The Walker's face was mostly rotted, its features unrecognizable, but she still recognized the broad structure of his face… and the way he walked.
His right leg dragged slightly. A limp he had carried since childhood.
Clementine's eyes filled with tears.
She didn't make a sound. The tears simply fell, sliding down her cheeks and dripping onto her knees.
She curled up in her seat, hugging her legs tightly, burying her face as her shoulders trembled.
Li pulled the car to the roadside, turned off the engine, and placed a hand on her shoulder.
She leaned against him and cried silently, as if even grief should not be heard.
Li stepped out of the car and took the hunting rifle from the trunk.
He walked toward the edge of the horde.
The Walkers slowly turned toward him.
The one in the plaid shirt approached, limping step by step—each movement slow, heavy, and identical.
Li raised his rifle and pressed the muzzle against its forehead.
The Walker's mouth hung open. Its gray-white eyes reflected nothing.
Clementine leaned toward the window, watching with red, swollen eyes.
Li's finger tightened.
Bang!
The Walker's head exploded. Its body swayed and collapsed into the dust.
Li crouched briefly, straightened his posture, smoothed his shirt, then turned and walked away—dodging the grasping hands of nearby Walkers.
Clementine shrank back into her seat, burying her face again.
Li returned to the car, started the engine, and continued driving.
In the rearview mirror, the body in the plaid shirt grew smaller and smaller… until it became a gray dot disappearing into the distance.
---
Andrea's father lived in a small town twenty miles south of Florida.
Li parked the Humvee at the entrance and looked at the overgrown main street.
Weeds and vines had swallowed the road. Shop windows were shattered. Darkness filled the interiors.
The road sign was crooked, its letters blurred by moss.
Not a single Walker was in sight.
"It's so quiet here," Clementine said softly, her voice still hoarse.
"Quiet is better than being chased," Li replied.
They drove in.
At the far east end of the town stood a wooden villa. Its white exterior had peeled away, revealing gray wood beneath.
The door hung open, half detached, creaking in the wind.
Li pushed it open and stepped inside.
The living room was dark. Curtains were drawn, with only thin rays of light slipping through cracks.
Drag marks stretched across the floor—from the doorway into the bedroom.
Li crouched down and touched them with his fingers.
Blood.
Old. Dry. Hardened.
He sniffed it briefly.
It had been there for a long time.
"Andrea's father is probably already—"
He stopped.
Clementine grabbed his clothes but said nothing.
Li stood and searched the room.
The bed in the bedroom was disturbed. The blanket pulled back. Bloodstains dried into the pillow.
The kitchen was covered in dust. The sink was filled with dry, hardened dishes.
The back door stood open, leading into a small grove of trees.
Silence filled the house.
"We should go back," Li said finally. "Tell Andrea."
---
They walked back toward the Humvee.
Li stopped halfway.
Two modified pickup trucks had already arrived.
Five or six armed men surrounded the Humvee, looting it—checking doors, peering inside, inspecting tires.
"Whose car is this?" one shouted.
"I don't know. But there's a lot of oil," another replied.
"Who cares? Take it."
Li pulled Clementine behind the cabin and crouched in the bushes, gripping his weapon tightly.
Clementine held a knife but did not draw it.
After looting, the group split up and moved toward the house.
"Search the area!"
Li quietly led Clementine toward the back door.
It was slightly ajar. He pushed it open, slipped out, and pulled her with him.
They moved along the outer wall of the house.
Suddenly—
A metal can rolled under Clementine's foot.
Clang.
Gunfire erupted instantly.
Bullets tore through the wooden wall, sending splinters flying.
Li fired two shots in return, grabbed Clementine, and ran.
They rushed through the bushes, climbed a barbed-wire fence, and entered a building—the school gymnasium.
Inside, the stadium was vast and silent.
Li stopped.
More than fifty Walkers lay scattered across the floor.
Some curled up. Some stretched out. Some piled together like discarded corpses.
They were motionless.
Sleeping… or waiting.
A sound broke the silence.
One Walker raised its head.
Then another.
Then another.
Gray-white eyes locked onto them.
They stood up.
One after another—like dominoes falling.
"Run!" Li shouted.
They sprinted toward the stands.
The horde surged forward like a rising tide.
Li pushed Clementine up the steps, then turned to block the first Walker.
He grabbed a fire axe from the wall and brought it down—clean and brutal.
Another lunged.
He blocked and struck again.
Clementine reached the stands and stretched out her hand.
"Li!"
A Walker grabbed his ankle.
He kicked—but couldn't break free.
Another bit into his arm.
"Ah—!"
Li screamed, swinging the axe and crushing its skull.
Blood ran down his arm.
Red. Not black yet.
He didn't stop.
He shoved the basketball hoop under the stands as a step, climbed up, and vaulted into the seats.
Clementine was already there, holding bandages and alcohol.
"Li… you've been bitten…"
Her voice trembled.
Li looked at his arm.
The wound was swollen and red—but not black.
He took the alcohol and poured it over the bite.
Pain exploded through his body. Sweat poured down his face.
He wrapped the bandage tightly, biting the end to secure it.
Then he looked at Clementine.
"We've already been vaccinated, haven't we? Let's take a gamble."
He pulled a rope from his pocket and handed it to her.
"If I get a fever… or start coughing blood… tie this around my neck and fix me to the railing. If I turn completely… you have to be brave and shoot me. I don't want to become one of those things."
Clementine took the rope with trembling hands.
Tears fell onto it—one by one.
She nodded.
They sat against the wall.
Below them, the Walkers pressed against the stands, unable to climb—only pushing and growling in a gray, restless mass.
Outside the stadium, looters still guarded the entrance, smoking and waiting.
And inside—
Two people held onto silence… and a gamble against fate.