Chapter 8：The Police Station and the Patrol Cars

Chen Dao understood the practicality behind the woman's choice of a thick leather jacket. It was excellent for protecting against bites and scratches but incredibly hot in the summer. This is why when wearing his denim outfit, Chen Dao also chose to go without an undershirt, opting instead for thick denim pants and a shirt to prevent scratches and bites.

Realizing it was pointless to remove her jacket, he decided to search her pockets instead. An opened ampoule bottle fell out.

"What's this?"

Chen Dao picked up the plain, transparent ampoule bottle, its top broken with no remaining liquid inside. Besides the ampoule, her pockets were empty.

Unsure of its purpose, Chen Dao stopped searching. He took the ALICE backpack and left the scene with a sense of puzzlement, ready to continue his search for cigarettes.

The zombies around Spiffo's restaurant were still clustered around the building, oblivious to his movements. The gas station area, however, was quiet and peaceful, devoid of other zombies.

Crossing the street quickly, Chen Dao reached the convenience store at the gas station. Through the window, he saw only one cashier zombie inside.

In Knox County, most gas stations with blue-and-white canopies and services like convenience stores or car washes were part of the Fossoil network—a subsidiary of Fosso Petrochemical Company, marked by an adorable brachiosaurus logo.

Chen Dao pushed open the door and entered the small convenience store. Immediately, the cashier zombie shambled toward him. Chen Dao waited until it came closer, then kicked it to the ground and ended its misery with a swift machete strike.

The convenience store had been looted; many food items were gone, and the snack shelves were empty. However, miscellaneous goods like newspapers and books remained. Behind the cashier's counter was a rack filled with various cigarette packs.

Chen Dao finally smiled with relief. He walked straight to the rack, grabbed a pack, and hurriedly lit a cigarette using the lighter he had found in the hippie's pocket. Inhaling the smoke, he felt his tension begin to dissipate.

He placed his small backpack and the recently acquired ALICE backpack on the counter and swept all the cigarettes from the rack into the ALICE pack. The small backpack was emptied, rolled up, and placed at the bottom of the ALICE backpack—backpacks were invaluable and could come in handy at any time.

Then, Chen Dao thought for a moment and took out one pack of cigarettes to place back on the shelf. He had nearly a whole box of cigarettes, enough for his use. By leaving one pack, he hoped another smoker survivor could find it someday if any others existed.

Chen Dao searched the gas station thoroughly and found no food left at all. This was not an issue as he currently had enough food, and any food crisis would not occur for at least another month.

There was a storage room in the small convenience store, holding some cleaning tools. Chen Dao opened the storage room door and rummaged through it but found only a mop and some rags.

Chen Dao lit another cigarette, trying to make up for the smoking he had missed. The gas station no longer held anything of value; future visits might be to set up a generator and pump fuel.

The station had four fuel pumps and two underground storage tanks—enough fuel for the whole town for a week, or enough for him for 100 years. However, the shelf life of unleaded gasoline, even if sealed, was only about ten years. He wondered where gasoline would come from after the apocalypse.

Not concerning himself too much with such long-term questions, Chen Dao slung the ALICE backpack over his shoulders. After taking one last look at Spiffo's restaurant, he prepared to head back along the riverside path, intending to check out the police station's armory and vehicles.

Cautiously crossing the street to ensure he hadn't attracted the attention of Spiffo's large zombie horde, Chen Dao passed by the woman's body. Her eyes were open again—just a post-mortem reflex indicating she had died less than 32 hours ago. As a medical student, Chen Dao understood this, but it still filled him with sorrow. These apocalyptic times were just too cruel.

He picked up the holster from the police zombie and found it fit perfectly, securely holding his M9. Earlier that morning, he had wished for a holster, and now he had one.

The police station's front windows were all broken, and there were no zombies inside. This was an excellent opportunity for Chen Dao to explore.

However, the door was locked.

Using his memory of the police station's layout, Chen Dao cleared away the broken glass and climbed through the window. The internal doors were locked from the inside with an electronic lock and a mechanical deadbolt.

Chen Dao examined the door carefully, confirming the mechanical lock could only be secured from the inside, and then drew his machete. Although the station appeared empty, he remained cautious.

Riverside Town was a small tourist destination, with most workers living outside the town, making the police station a modest size. Entering the front door, Chen Dao saw the officers' desks, a water cooler, and some guest chairs lined up along the wall. An oak table stood nearby, used by officers to heat their meals in a microwave.

Deeper inside were the restroom, the fortified gun room door, and a corridor leading to temporary holding cells and the interrogation room. Between the restroom and gun room was the rear entrance, used by officers to quickly access their patrol cars.

Looking around, Chen Dao saw no immediate signs of zombies. Instead, he noticed an overturned microwave, a toppled desk, and disarranged chairs, with the restroom door ajar.

Carefully, he headed down the corridor to check the holding cell, which was open but empty. Reaching the interrogation room, he found two zombie faces pressed against the small window. Seeing Chen Dao, they started pounding on the door.

It was a sturdy door, reinforced with metal, built to withstand such assaults. However, Chen Dao decided not to leave the zombies banging. He braced the door, pushing it open and toppling the weak zombies inside—they appeared to be hippies.

Likely heavily drugged before they turned, these zombies were feeble. Chen Dao quickly dispatched them. The room reeked, littered with human waste—an indication these individuals had been trapped here, either dying of starvation or being attacked by a zombie of the two.

Knox County had over 350,000 people, with more than 80% dying in the initial outbreak. With the majority turning into zombies, the survivor rate dropped below 1%. Still, Chen Dao believed others like him continued to survive.

Wandering through the station, Chen Dao discovered the fortified gun room. Through the half-transparent glass, he could see various police gear stored inside: bulletproof vests, uniforms, gun belts, and ammunition. The tantalizing sight of locked cabinets housing firearms and ammunition frustrated him—these resources could significantly boost his survival odds.

The small-town police station had an unexpectedly large armory, reflecting the needs of officers patrolling the vast, sparsely populated areas of Knox County. Patrol officers relied on these stations as rest stops and armories, explaining the disproportionate size of the gun room compared to office space.

Though armed with only a hammer, Chen Dao was tempted to pry open the reinforced door, but it was futile. Giving up for now, he exited through the rear door to the parking lot, where he saw two vehicles: a white Chevrolet Caprice police car and an orange Ford Ranger forest ranger's truck.

Forest rangers, responsible for preventing forest fires, poaching, and illegal logging, had similar authority to city police officers. Chen Dao was more intrigued by the Ranger truck, noting it would be easier to hotwire than a police car.

Approaching the truck, he realized the window was narrowly left open—a fortunate oversight by the owner. Grinning, he opened the door. Though dusty and damp inside, this didn't dampen his spirits.

Sitting in the driver's seat, Chen Dao initially struggled, wishing for a virtual "V" key to hotwire the truck, but reality proved more complex.

Determined, he searched the glove compartment, finding only a driver's license and a ranger's badge. Rummaging further, he checked the sun visor and found a set of three keys.

With a triumphant laugh, he grabbed the keys, noting the Ford insignia matching the truck. Starting the ignition, he found the fuel gauge showed three-quarters full and no warning lights—a well-maintained vehicle.

Rolling up the window, Chen Dao turned the key, and the engine roared to life. For the first time in 12 days, Chen Dao had a vehicle.

Remembering that he had a driver's license upon arrival indicated he could drive. His skills were adequate, even without "New Driver" or "Racing Enthusiast" traits.

Confidently, he familiarized himself with the truck controls: manual gearbox, clutch, accelerator, wipers, and air conditioning. The newfound mobility meant safer, longer supply runs.

Chen Dao's excitement grew, his goal of finding cigarettes now overshadowed by having a functional vehicle. This truck would significantly boost his survival prospects.

Cautious of attracting zombies nearby with the truck's engine noise, Chen Dao knew every advantage had to be maximized.

Returning to his temporary base, Chen Dao unloaded his haul: cigarettes, tactical gear, weapons, and the ALICE backpack. Everything found its place within his fortified shelter.

Lighting another cigarette, Chen Dao felt the weight of the day's accomplishments sink in. Each step forward, each secured item bolstered his morale and strategic advantage.

Looking over the detailed vehicle information, Chen Dao felt ready for the next steps. The truck's capability expanded his potential for resource collection and opened up new possibilities for navigating the post-apocalyptic landscape.

He got out of the vehicle, looking around. Chen Dao didn't notice that the Spiffo's restaurant in the distance seemed to have some disturbance. The zombie horde was showing increasing signs of agitation, with the mass of undead becoming more restless and erratic. It was clear that something was happening inside or near the restaurant, causing the zombies to stir continuously.