Eric found herself atop someone else's vehicle, having boarded without consent. Asking them to stop for her to reunite with her teammates was out of the question—survival took precedence, regardless of whose car she was on.
Inside the Jeep, the family remained oblivious to their uninvited passenger. The youngest daughter, seated at the back, had sensed something when Eric leapt aboard, but she assumed it was another car colliding with theirs, never imagining someone had landed on their roof.
"Dad, where are we going?" the eldest daughter asked.
The father, focused on driving while keeping a vigilant eye on the encroaching fog, replied hastily, "Somewhere without the toxic fog! We're nearing the bridge—hold on tight!"
Eric, too, spotted the bridge spanning the river, already congested with a dense cluster of vehicles. It was a gridlock waiting to happen.
She decided immediately to disembark. A traffic jam now could be fatal; even the most aggressive Jeep couldn't bulldoze its way through the blockade.
Sure enough, the car slowed to a crawl and eventually came to a complete halt.
Before the Jeep fully stopped, Eric leapt off, agilely weaving, climbing, and jumping through the stalled traffic.
As more people abandoned their vehicles to flee on foot, the narrow gaps between cars forced them to climb—from one hood to another, scaling vehicle roofs.
Most lacked the dexterity for such maneuvers, slipping and stumbling as they climbed. But Eric moved across the car tops as if on solid ground. The pain in her abdomen, trivial compared to past injuries like broken limbs, didn't hinder her in the slightest. She soon reached the bridge's midpoint.
There, she saw two overturned cars and a truck leaning precariously against the railing, its cargo teetering on the edge of plunging into the river.
No wonder the bridge was jammed—an accident had occurred.
"Run!"
"Help me! I twisted my ankle!"
"Mom! Dad! I'm scared!"
The bridge was crowded with panicked people scrambling to escape, belongings strewn everywhere.
Eric didn't waste time scavenging supplies, her focus solely on moving forward.
Reaching the bridge's end, she kept running. The roads beyond were no less congested, teeming with frantic NPCs. As she ran, her eyes scanned for usable bicycles—her target now was clear.
Finally, she spotted a tire peeking out from a flower bed. Swiftly, she veered toward it, yanking out a slightly worn bicycle.
The tires, chain, and pedals were intact, though the handlebars were askew. Grabbing the front wheel with her feet, she wrenched the handlebars back into place with a sharp, forceful pull.
Mounted on the bicycle, Eric's speed and stamina efficiency improved significantly.
The roads narrowed and aged, the buildings shrinking in stature. She guessed this was the older part of the city across the river.
Residents here had evidently received the warning too, their streets now a chaotic sea of fleeing people. A nearby tricycle laden with towering luggage nearly struck her as a broom tumbled off, forcing her to swerve abruptly.
"How could there be something like poisonous fog? Where do we even run to?"
"To the station! We'll take the train!"
"I heard Old Hu's family is heading to the airport—they've already bought plane tickets!"
Eric overheard a conversation among several NPCs, sparking a sudden insight within her.
Indeed, this was her cognitive blind spot—how had she not considered traveling by train or plane? Amid such chaos, perhaps lacking identification or local currency might be overlooked, allowing passage.
With this revelation, Eric resolved to follow the family beside her to the train station.
Unfamiliar with the route, she struggled to keep pace as the family sped along on their motorized tricycle.
Half an hour later, they arrived at the station, the toxic fog now pressing dangerously close. Many had abandoned their luggage to lighten their load; even bicycles became difficult to navigate. Seizing a moment, Eric stashed her bicycle inside a supermarket and dashed toward the station entrance.
Inside, a torrent of anxious, frightened people surged—the tension within the dense crowd escalating incessantly. It was unclear who initiated the chaos, but the gates were forced open, and both ticket holders and fare evaders flooded inside; Eric joined the fray without hesitation.
"Move forward, squeeze through! Push ahead!"
"My brother fell! Stop pushing!"
A panicked cry rang out: "The toxic fog has breached the gate!"
Though the platform's loudspeakers urged calm, who could remain composed at such a moment? Carried by the throng toward the platform, Eric felt countless feet trampling her own; the searing pain suggested a fractured bone. Yet she dared not falter, exerting every ounce of strength to steady herself—collapsing now would mean certain doom.
At that instant, the train's warning horn blared, accompanied by an announcement: "Please keep away from the tracks, danger..."
But the crowd's agitation intensified. Fear of the toxic fog, fueled by terrifying videos online depicting flesh and bone corroded away upon contact, drove everyone's desperation to board the train.
The rush grew more frantic. The carriage doors struggled to close amid the surge; staff were flattened against windows, rendered voiceless.
Eric pressed forward, striving to reach the train. She had never intended to squeeze into the carriage itself. Her aim was the roof—if she could cling onto the Jeep, she could cling onto a train.
Human survival instinct unleashed unparalleled courage and audacity. Soon, several NPCs were scaling the train's side.
"Climb to the roof!"
"Help me! Please, just a hand!"
"Catch my son! Hurry!"
Grim screams echoed at the gate, chilling in their desperation—Eric needed no glance back to know the toxic fog had arrived.
Only two or three meters separated her from the train—yet within the surging crowd, that distance felt as vast as an abyss.
Heavy breaths surrounded her; the crush of bodies left no room to draw a proper breath. Tilting her head back, Eric saw a parade of flushed, straining faces beside her.
"Help! Someone save me!"
Two meters... one and a half...
The train lurched to life, inching forward.
Someone fell onto the tracks; their cries were drowned beneath the grinding screech of wheels on rails.
One meter... half a meter...
Pressure mounted behind her as the fog's advance forced the crowd relentlessly forward.
Those ahead struggled to climb; hands grasped at Eric's feet, tugging at her clothes. She pushed with all her might, aiding a woman's ascent.
At last, the female NPC reached the roof, vacating the space beneath her. Swift and decisive, Eric scrambled up, gripping the window frame tightly.
Her hands met warmth and dampness; a coppery tang of blood filled the air. Thud! Her head smacked the unyielding metal plate. Fingers pulled and tugged, but she refused to release her hold. Rather than scramble upward hastily, she fortified her position.
Clinging tightly to the window, the train accelerated. She felt her feet leave the ground as gravity tugged her down. Someone seized her legs, dragging her downward; her fingernails scraped painfully.
Looking down, Eric saw a woman in her forties, a white-collar worker. Before Eric could free her legs, the woman screamed as her lower body was caught beneath the tracks. A violent force swept her away; she vanished.
Clang, clang—
The train gathered speed, leaving behind the fading cries and pleas.
Facing the biting wind, Eric weakly glanced back and saw the fog engulf the platform entirely. Grey-black mists swirled around twisting figures struggling in vain before dissolving. For the first time, she pondered the purpose of this resurrection game.
Was it designed to compel players to flee shadows of death and cherish renewed life and the beauty of existence? Or merely to witness their pitiable plight in frantic escape?
The train roared onward. Dizzy and nauseated, Eric produced a mint from the supermarket, placing it in her mouth, and began climbing higher.
During her ascent, she caught glimpses of others clinging to the train's side; several succumbed to exhaustion and slipped away.
One fell but was spared from being crushed. His fading screams drifted with the wind, stirring an ineffable melancholy within Eric as she numbly hauled herself onto the roof.
The top was crowded—hands grasped hers.
"Be careful not to fall."
Eric recognized the speaker—the NPC she had helped onto the roof.
The girl, pale and gaunt, forced a weary smile. "Thank you... you saved me."
But Eric's intent had not been to save her alone, but herself.
She shook her head tiredly, settling into a corner of the roof. Fingernails digging into her bleeding hand, she clung fiercely to the welded metal protrusions for stability.
The train sped far from the station; the toxic fog was momentarily lost to sight.
Survivors wept openly. The rooftop echoed with mournful sobs. Beside her, an NPC clung to Eric's arm, treating her—an outsider—as the most reliable solace, resting a dirt-streaked face against her back, quietly weeping.
To Eric, it was merely a mission; to the NPCs, this was home—the sudden calamity had robbed them of sanctuary and loved ones. Their anguish was raw and profound.
She made no move to push her away, enduring the cold wind in silence, her gaze fixed firmly upon the station's direction.
Yet she refused to dwell long in sorrow. Gently patting the NPC's hand, she asked, "Do you know the next stop? How long will it take to get there?"
The girl choked back tears. "The next stop is the North City. About half an hour. My grandmother lives there."
Whether the next stop bore the promise of salvation, Eric could not say.