Chapter 17：Desperate Escape

Chen Dao leaned against the car, ready to end it all, but he quickly noticed that the car's engine was still vibrating.

Chen Dao couldn't hear, but he felt that the car miraculously hadn't stalled!

Like a starving stray dog suddenly smelling food, Chen Dao's excitement surged. He jumped back into the driver's seat, put it in reverse, and to his great surprise, found the vehicle completely functional. Apart from the hood obstructing part of the windshield, the car was perfectly drivable!

Chen Dao sped onto a cement road, with no time to discern direction or which road it was.

He only knew to head towards the area with fewer zombies.

"Oh! Look at him! He's not dead," Tom on the helicopter pointed at Chen Dao, speaking to Benjamin.

"Do you think he'll make it?"

"I think we should stop here," Benjamin replied sympathetically. "Or maybe get him up here."

"I should remind you, this helicopter is already overdue for its return. Adding another person, we might not even make it to the west side of Fort Knox," Cartman, the pilot, relayed through his headset, clearly having no intention of rescuing someone from the quarantine zone.

Tom gave no reaction, but although Benjamin did not object, he also didn't seem keen on following this poor guy any longer.

"That's enough! Let's go…" Benjamin almost pleaded with Tom.

Tom looked at Benjamin. "Do we have any tape left?"

"About half a roll," Benjamin said. "Half a roll in the camera."

"Then let's just finish it, okay?" Tom half-comforted his cameraman and half-convinced himself, "You've seen everything happening here. You believe Jay, and now I believe Jay too."

"But many people still don't. Despite the Soviets losing terribly and disbanding, people still don't believe."

Pausing as if to find the right words, Tom continued, "Our government is now the most powerful force in this world, Ben. But we're proving that this mighty government is lying, deceiving its people, and the world."

"We need to take out everything happening in this quarantine zone and tell the world the truth, Ben."

Benjamin seemed persuaded, said nothing further, only adjusted his professional VHS camera.

Navigating through the growing crowd of zombies, Chen Dao had to frequently stick his head out to see ahead, as the deformed hood blocked much of his view, and his glasses were missing.

Chen Dao's luck seemed paradoxically good yet consistently poor. Finding a good gun came with a nasty trait. Getting a good car meant a relentless helicopter overhead.

He felt dizzy, slightly nauseous, and unable to hear anything.

Chen Dao believed he was dying. Still, this extraordinarily tough pickup truck kept running, with the deformed bumper and dented radiator miraculously not leaking or falling apart.

This allowed Chen Dao to navigate through zombies, dodging bushes and trees, driving farther along an unknown cement road.

The helicopter persisted, trying to capture his final moment or other dramatic scenes.

Chen Dao's head started throbbing. He could hear slightly again, but it was just the noise of wailing women, making him want to sleep.

Sweat formed on his neck. Wiping it off, he found it sticky. His hand came away bright red.

Touching his neck, he realized the female half-zombie's scratch had torn his skin, though the bleeding wasn't much, just surface damage… or so he hoped.

From the glove box, he grabbed pre-prepared bandages, slapping them on the wound—common practice for an "Elite Doctor" to have effective, convenient medical supplies on hand.

He found an adrenaline injector meant for severe allergic reactions, adjustably dosed. The injector had 22 shots with a max dose of 3 shots, exceeding which could be fatal.

Feeling extremely sleepy, Chen Dao didn't bother adjusting, directly injecting two shots into his stomach.

It should've hurt, but he felt nothing.

Had he not seen the needle retracting, Chen Dao would've doubted he'd even injected.

With blurred vision, likely concussed, bleeding, bruised from the crash, and without his glasses (although 2-300 degrees didn't impair much, it did affect distant clarity).

He didn't know where he was driving, eventually reaching a wide asphalt road; this wasn't the Knox Highway but a high-standard, dual carriageway nonetheless.

Adrenaline kicked in, vision cleared, his hands steadied on the wheel. Whether due to severe blood loss or adrenaline-induced calm, he wasn't shaking anymore.

His heartbeat raced, along with anger at the ever-hovering helicopter.

Feeling around, he grabbed the Zibber, noting its lightness, recalling he'd emptied the magazine. Reaching for the M9, there were a few rounds left.

Glancing out, Chen Dao extended his arm, pointing at the helicopter, "Bang, bang, bang," he fired three shots.

"Can you see what he's doing?" Tom asked Benjamin. "Looks like he's bleeding. Can your camera catch him?"

Benjamin's top-notch Japanese VHS camera, with a 16x zoom lens, though VHS's resolution was low, allowed him to clearly see Chen Dao's actions.

"Damn! We pissed him off. He's shooting at us!" Benjamin shouted.

Shots were heard below, but M9's limited range and Chen Dao's poor aim meant the bullets merely tapped the helicopter windows.

"Damn, he's really shooting at us," said the pilot, Cartman.

Unable to bear filming anymore, Benjamin told Tom, "Enough, the tape is used up," displaying the "Change VHS" sign on his camera.

"All right, let's leave. That half-bodied lady was thrilling enough," Tom responded reluctantly.

"What? Then why did we follow him for so long?" Benjamin asked.

Tom removed his headset, taking off Benjamin's as well, staring intensely at him.

"Ben, do you think we can safely return?" Tom asked. "I know you think I'm cruel, but did you see the fencing and fully-armed soldiers outside Knox County?"

Glancing back at Cartman, seemingly having an uncomfortable nose, Tom continued, "This man is pitiful, but I don't want those outside Knox County's quarantine line to be equally pitiful."

"They insist it's merely a severe chemical spill, an unfortunate, severe chemical spill."

Sighing, Tom added, "Ben, I know you're a good man. I don't claim to be one myself…"

"If we meet soldiers on the way back, I'll negotiate. Make sure you get this tape out, even if it means throwing it in a trash can!" With that, Tom turned his gaze to the still-fleeing Chen Dao.

Benjamin said nothing further, silently changing the VHS tape, performing tasks Tom wouldn't comprehend.

The helicopter ascended and departed swiftly.

Confused, Chen Dao glanced at his gun, had the shots really scared them off?

Regardless, the helicopter's departure was fantastic news. At least no more zombies would converge on him.

Chen Dao drove on a signless asphalt road, unsure of direction or speed. Adrenaline kept him awake, but his whole body felt numb, like a puppet.

Realizing he'd injected over three doses of adrenaline, Chen Dao thought, "Overdosed, heart racing, numbed nerves, no wonder I'm sweating."

"Ha ha ha…" Laughing in the driver's seat, he found the situation ironically dramatic.

Excess adrenaline could cause sudden death.

Chen Dao, emotionally breaking down, felt he was doomed but unsure how or when death would come.

With no sense of time, constantly feeling like falling into darkness, Chen Dao drove unknowingly for how long, eyelids heavy, determined not to stop roadside to be eaten.

After several turns, he spotted farmland and some village houses—classic farmers' cottages.

Accompanying was a small lake or pond, surrounded by bushes.

Driving into the bushes by the lakeside, Chen Dao parked, needing a nap, just a short one…

Rolling up the windows, he collapsed onto the backpack in the passenger seat, losing consciousness.

His face was flushed, visible veins pulsating. His neck wound looked ready to split, with fresh blood seeping from the bandages.

Chen Dao slept deeply in the bushes by the little lake, far from town and zombies.

Nearby were some farms. Fleeing the helicopter, Chen Dao had deviated far from his intended route to the mansion by West Point's lakeside.

Nevertheless, this wasn't bad, was it? A lake, farms—still decent.

It was evening, and Chen Dao's day had been terrible.

Chased by a helicopter and zombies for an hour is never easy.

As dusk settled and night fell, Chen Dao lay unconscious in the car. Something was leaking drip by drip, indicating damage from the crash. Stuck in the wheel hub was half a zombie's leg.

In North American summer, night fell swiftly, with the sun and moon efficiently switching roles. As the sun dipped, the moon's glow spread over the small lake and bushes, casting a peaceful beauty.

This was Faria Village, or Doe Village.

Faria Lake named the village, but locals preferred Doe, simple and fitting, meaning female deer. This place produced potatoes and soybeans.

Catholic settlers arrived here, finding the lake so beautiful they named it Faria, after the priest in "The Count of Monte Cristo."

Explaining to others, villagers called it Doe Village, also telling its story. Given the times' illiteracy, the name could've been Farias, a common girl's name.

This small village had few households. Most resided in the western community, with Faria Lake and a church in the east. Villagers donated to expand the church, mainly to attract tourists.

A simple village, with a police station, Old Mark's gun shop, Dixie's agricultural supply store, a grocery store, a bar at the southern end, and a gas station at the northern end.

It's small but more complete than Riverside.

Without considering the zombie factor, this place might actually be better for survival. However, even a small village like Faria had a population of over 1700.

Located by the lake, it's far from city centers but surrounded by extensive farmlands, making it a potential tourist spot due to its scenic beauty.

If you had an interactive map from "Project Zomboid," you could see Faria Village surrounded by the largest farmland area on the entire map, even bigger than half of Louisville.

Chen Dao's car stayed parked there quietly. By midnight, his condition had significantly improved, his breathing stabilized, and everything seemed to be moving in a positive direction.

He wasn't going to die, which was the best news.

As sunlight spread across Chen Dao's face, he finally woke up.

Everything hurt, and Chen Dao urgently checked his surroundings to ensure there were no zombies nearby.

He forced himself to open his status page…

Chen Dao's basic stats were exactly the same as before.

However, tags like "Severe Pain," "Depression," "Anxiety," "Nausea," and "Exhaustion" filled the status bar.

Never had Chen Dao seen so many status effects, nearly filling his entire status panel. It was clear that he was gravely injured.

But, he was alive.

That's what mattered. Chen Dao pondered, as long as he was alive, there was hope. He scratched his ears while reviewing the debuffs each status effect brought him.

Removing a large, coagulated blood clot, Chen Dao realized he was deaf.

He tested tapping the car window.

Yup, completely deaf, couldn't hear a thing...

Uncertain if it was permanent, Chen Dao pored over the status page. Finally, amidst the sea of red tags, he found one related to his hearing.

"Eardrum Injury (Deafness, You cannot hear any sounds until recovery.)"

At least it wasn't permanent. Continuing to review these tags, he confirmed his condition was indeed dire, with his health plummeting below 10%, and a laceration on his neck.

After regaining some control, Chen Dao felt pain throughout his body and started searching his bag for painkillers. He also found some ready-to-eat food, like soda crackers and a box of milk, exactly the nutrients he needed right now.

Chen Dao decided to treat his injuries and manage his emotions in the car. Consuming painkillers, disinfecting scrapes and cuts with alcohol wipes, then bandaging them, he also took a few antidepressants to keep his spirits from plummeting into fatal despair.

Lastly, he faced the laceration on his neck, the most challenging injury.

Pressing on it released more blood, indicating it was still actively bleeding, soaking through the bandage. His task was to remove the saturated bandage, disinfect the wound swiftly, and apply a clean bandage.

Chen Dao took out some anti-infection drugs, like amoxicillin, knowing that while he had taken antibiotics, an untreated wound could still get infected.

With bandages and disinfectants ready, he sucked in a deep breath and prepared to remove the bandage.

But as soon as he peeled it off, Chen Dao realized his mistake.

A torrent of blood gushed out.

Despite his quick effort to replace the bandage, the car console splattered with blood reflected his dwindling reserves.

Chen Dao wasn't squeamish about blood; there simply wasn't much left to lose.

His vision blackened, and he collapsed once again onto the backpack, not unconscious this time.

But in hypovolemic shock.