More than 200 people who escaped from Weng City have now scattered.
They are still exhausted, still without food, still struggling on the brink of life and death.
They have no food; the bark on the roadside trees has been eaten clean.
Having just escaped from death, although they stole a breath of life, they are not far from death now.
The man with the pompadour is now somewhat frantic.
People around him dare not speak to him.
"Damn it, they actually have guns! How are we supposed to deal with this?" the pompadour man growled under his breath.
"What about the siblings? Did they make it out?" he continued.
"No, I saw them at that time; it seemed like they were instantly overwhelmed by the crowd. They're probably dead by now," a muscular man next to him said.
As he spoke, the images from just before flashed through his mind; the people at the base were too ruthless. They opened fire and if he hadn't been following the pompadour man closely, he would have been dead by now.
