Apocalypse Cockroach

This graveyard had an area of nearly eighty square meters, but hundreds of zombies had been specimened on the walls. Apart from Zombies 2 and Z, there were no shortages of Zombies D and S. Similarly, the original brick floor had been replaced by a lime layer. In addition to the pungent lime smell, there was a rich smell of corpse odor and disinfectant water.

Standing outside the door and looking at the light in the room, the kerosene lamps didn't light up there either, it was completely imaginary to get into the room, on the end of the graveyard, countless mirrors misaligned, these mirrors concentrated several kerosene lamps at different angles on a dot, a collapsed coffin.

The inverted coffin was made to look like an operating table. A man in a white coat, mask, was busy living in the strongest light, lying in the strong light in an S-shaped zombie that had been torn apart into pieces.

There is a small wooden shelf next to the man, with a plastic tray on top, a fruit tray that greets the guests when the farmer arrives to put the melon peanuts, the tray is filled with scalpels, hemostatic pliers and some other anatomical tools, and even a small saw.

The man's identity came out, and he was a doctor, at least a surgeon, who was wearing a mask and couldn't see his face clearly, and the white coat was covered with stains, and a round thick film of glasses blocked his eyes, and his forehead couldn't see clearly, which seemed to have had long hair that hadn't been repaired for six months, like a mop without a wooden handle that snapped over his head.

Why the mop? Because his hair looks dirty, not ordinary dirty, he hasn't washed it for many years, his hair is cut together, like the cloth strip on the mop hangs over his forehead corner eyes, the doctor also finds his hair annoying, he throws it off from time to time, he throws it aside and keeps busy until his hair drips again.

Although doctors from time to time compete with their own hair, appeared to be funny in the eyes of outsiders, Uncle Yun and Yao did not dare to laugh. They stood honestly not far from the doctor, stomach twitching, waiting for the doctor to busy his livelihood.

The doctor was very focused. He had no idea that there were two big men standing beside him, all his attention was on the shredded corpse under his knife, and one big, one small and two men didn't dare to call him, just waiting silently.

The doctor they called a book was not actually their original village book. They brought the doctor back, they picked him up, precisely, and they didn't know where he came from.

They saw him on the side of a rolling car on the side of the road, while he was in a coma, holding a scalpel in his hand, with five zombies lying next to him, not shot dead, but unloaded and slowly killed their parts with one knife, so none of these zombies were just complete.

Those who saw the zombies sucked in a cold breath, how they didn't know about the horror of the zombies every day, don't say five zombies, even two zombies, let them solve without necessarily killing, but this man did it with only a scalpel, one less powerful than a wooden stick.

Rural people are plain, they respect all those who can do it, not to mention the thin young man who did what none of them can do. This young man is obviously a strong man who will never fear finding a place to eat in his last life.

Since the doctors joined them, everyone has discovered that the doctors are different, that he will never solve the zombies with a single knife, that he will slowly cut the muscular mask off the zombies, slowly provoke the zombies, carefully observe them, and that the zombies often end up with only skeletons that can no longer hold their bodies and break apart.

The doctor's strange behavior kept everyone away from him, afraid that he would cut himself into pieces that day, the doctor didn't care, he was not a person who liked to communicate, he communicated with people, he was more willing to study zombies.

They have more than 200 people, all the villages and villages of ten miles and eight villages. Their unique customs make them a group. Their heads are books, not the original ones. They died long ago. In their view, all they can care about is a book, and their heads can only be called books.

The book died, it was killed by the army, they found a convoy, hundreds of soldiers in the army car marching towards WH, the book thought they were saved, decades of education to let them know who was their closest, who were their children and soldiers, saw soldiers and they were excited.

Just as they were screaming to greet their loved ones, doctors who had never spoken said, "The military is unreliable, the government is unreliable, the country is unreliable, we should be careful and careful."

Nobody listened to him, he was just an outsider, although he had the ability, but that's all, a book died, he was shot off his skull, the townsfolks died half, in that shocking barrel of guns, countless shouting bullets poured a layer of blood fog around them, the sky's blood fog blocked their gaze, they couldn't help but fall on the ground looking at those cold military men in the military car, they didn't know why until they died.

Hundreds of lives and deaths were just a little intrusion for those in the army, who had gone without even getting off the car, leaving behind only one spot of blood and civilians struggling to die in blood pockets.

Two hundred people, eight hundred dead, the other half with gunshot wounds, even when people were desperate, the doctor appeared, and he saved 27 people with his medicine and some frightening means.

In the rare absence of drugs and equipment, he rescued 27 of the 40 wounded, and at this moment all the survivors automatically admitted the identity of his book, no objections, no objections, so that an outsider became their secretary.

When the doctor became a book, he didn't pay much attention to the responsibilities of the script. All he did was move the villagers from the ground to the basement and set up the laboratory. The others he divided into pieces, found a few people with a smooth eye to take care of one piece, and he continued to study his zombie.

Normally, no one bothers a book, just like now, the army is back.

“Ka... ka... ka..." a skull was broken down by a doctor, a stinging black blood flowed from the head of a corpse to the operating table, the doctor inadvertently threw the bone in his hand into the willow basket at his feet, slightly shaking the long hair that covered his eyes, and looked up and saw a big, small and two man standing on his side with his eyebrows down.

“What is it? And who's dead? ”

Coldly, the doctor took off the rubber gloves on his hand and threw them on the side wooden shelf. He found the cup where he drank the water. He stood and drank the water in front of a stinking operating table.