Chương 70: Let Me Help You Wash

"Yay! Hotpot time!" Zoe dropped the fridge basket onto the floor and excitedly turned to run back upstairs. Her acting was undeniably clumsy, but Vince saw right through it. What she truly craved wasn't just a warm meal, but a sense of belonging and stability in this apocalyptic wasteland. Originally, Vince had planned to process any excess, unfrozen meat into jerky or salt-cure it to extend its shelf life.

But looking at the massive haul of supplies before him, he felt a sudden wave of sheer exhaustion at the thought of doing more work. He had slaughtered a massive number of zombies today and harvested plenty of loot. Realistically, they weren't lacking in food or water. There was no need to pinch pennies right now.

Although Vince had intended for everyone to eat together from the start, since Zoe was playing her part so perfectly, he didn't mind giving the situation a little push, allowing Claire to easily hand out the favor. Watching Claire expertly soothe the energetic Zoe, Vince felt a faint stir in his heart. He couldn't stand guard over them forever. The closer the bond between these two women became, the better.

No matter where they ended up in the future, as long as they had each other's backs, they would be able to survive much longer. A few minutes later, Zoe trotted back downstairs, wearing a heavily exaggerated pout. She was dragging Cody along, with Seth trailing nervously behind. Each of them was carrying a fridge basket filled with various cuts of meat and eggs.

"Vince..." Cody spoke up timidly the moment he saw him.

"We already said we'd eat the rations we brought... Why don't you and Claire just eat this..." Hearing Cody try to back out, Zoe grew even more visibly upset. She slammed her basket down, ran over to Claire, grabbed her arm, and mumbled with a muffled, aggrieved voice:"Claire, my brother is scolding me! He said I'm being annoying and that we're going to get kicked out..."

"Haha..." Claire gently dusted off Zoe's hair. Having already received Vince's tacit approval, she played the role of the generous hostess without a shred of hesitation.

"It's fine. I just met you guys anyway. Let's just treat this as a welcome dinner I'm hosting for you..." Seeing the setup complete, Vince naturally chimed in:"Don't worry about it. Let's all eat together. Eat up and recover your strength; I have plenty of manual labor for you guys tomorrow..." Cody was naturally meticulous and tended to overthink every little detail, which made him inherently cautious and fearful. Zoe was his polar opposite.

Vince couldn't help but wonder what kind of family environment had raised these two drastically different siblings...

"Th-thank you, Vince... Thank you, Claire..." Seth quickly echoed Cody's grateful thanks.

"Did you finish cleaning out the fridges on the sixth floor?" Vince asked.

"601 is cleared out. There wasn't much inside—just a few cans of beer, some eggs, and a little bit of meat..." Cody reported.

"We haven't finished 602 yet..." Standing in the back, Seth hurriedly answered when he heard the question.

"There's a ton of stuff in 602's fridge. Aside from the eggs and some condiments on the top shelf, the vegetables have all rotted. But the bottom drawers are packed. There's meat, pickled cabbage, tofu skin..." Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. 601 was rented by a single delivery driver, so an empty fridge made perfect sense. 602 was the apartment of the neighborhood vegetable vendor. It made sense she had a massive stockpile.

The fridges for the two apartments on the fourth floor had essentially been emptied by Claire before the power grid fully failed; she had moved everything down to Vince's fridge. Only a few easily preserved vegetables and excess meat remained, which was why Zoe hadn't found much earlier.

"Alright, the three of you go up to 602 and help Seth bring the rest of the food down. After that, check the emergency tap water I stored in the various apartments. While the municipal gas is still running, boil some water and take a sponge bath." Vince instructed the trio. All of them, including Vince himself, were absolutely filthy. If they crowded around a boiling hotpot right now, the stench of dried sweat and zombie gore would completely overpower the smell of the food...

"Conserve the water! Stand inside a large basin while you scrub down. We can use the runoff water to flush the toilets." Cody had reminded him of the plumbing issue earlier, so Vince quickly added the rule.

"Use it sparingly. Once these reserves run dry, we'll be entirely reliant on boiling rainwater... By the way, did you guys find a change of clothes?" Vince asked, suddenly remembering their shredded, blood-stained outfits.

"601 has some clothes that Seth and I can fit into..." Cody said, patting Seth on the shoulder.

"I... I can't fit into Claire's clothes... my shoulders are too broad..." Zoe muttered dejectedly from the side. Hearing this, Vince took a moment to carefully appraise the two women. Claire was slightly taller than Zoe, with narrower shoulders and a much more slender, elegant silhouette—a classic example of a delicate frame bearing surprisingly generous curves. Zoe was roughly 1. 6 meters tall. While she certainly wasn't fat, her build was undeniably sturdier.

Her shoulders were broader than Claire's, and her arms were slightly thicker. Her physique radiated the tight, healthy vitality of a dedicated student-athlete. There was absolutely no way she was squeezing into Claire's fitted clothes.

"602 belonged to an old vegetable vendor. Why don't you go see if you can fit into her floral shirts...?"

"..."

"I'm kidding. Go check 401 and 201. Both of those apartments belonged to married couples... grab a few extra men's shirts for these two while you're at it..." After teasing Zoe, Vince gave her a genuine suggestion. But a second later, he remembered a grim detail.

"Do not go into the master bedroom of 401. If you walk in there, I guarantee you won't have an appetite for hotpot tonight. Consider yourself warned..."

"Got it, Dage!" Seeing her nod with such exaggerated seriousness, Vince suddenly felt a morbid curiosity about whether she would actually peek... The three students made another trip, hauling the rest of 602's food downstairs. Vince simply dragged Claire's fridge from 302 across the hall and plugged it into the RV extension cord. Two standard refrigerators combined only consumed a little over 1 kWh of electricity per day.

Idling the heavy-duty RV engines for a few hours every couple of days to recharge the battery banks would easily sustain them. The meat they had salvaged from upstairs was partially thawed on the outside, but the core was still frozen hard. After sending the trio off to bathe, Vince stood by the living room window and quickly slurped down a cup of instant noodles to tide himself over. A short while later, Claire's voice drifted out from the kitchen:"The water is boiling..."

"Alright..." Vince walked into the bathroom. His usual foot-soaking basins were already filled to the brim with emergency tap water, so he had to run next door to 201 and scavenge a few extra plastic washbasins. He mixed the boiling water with the cold reserves until it was comfortably warm. The rising steam quickly filled the cramped bathroom, turning the air hazy. He stripped off his shredded tactical shirt and stiff, blood-caked pants, standing barefoot inside one of the massive plastic basins.

He submerged a towel, wrung it out, and let the hot water cascade over his skin. The soothing warmth washed over muscles that had been coiled tight with lethal tension for days, bringing a profound, shivering sense of relief. He draped the hot towel over his face and leaned his head back against the cold ceramic tiles, savoring this fleeting moment of tranquility in the apocalypse. It felt as though time had reversed.

As if he were still just a neighborhood veterinarian, coming upstairs after a long, exhausting shift at the clinic to take a hot shower and unwind... Creaaak— The faint, unmistakable sound of the bathroom door opening was exceptionally loud in the quiet apartment. His illusion shattered instantly. Vince stood bolt upright, his eyes snapping open as the towel slipped from his face and slapped against the wet floor. It was Claire. Through the hazy, swirling steam, her silhouette appeared in the doorway.

She had already stripped off the heavy canvas jacket and long pants she had worn outside. She was currently wearing nothing but an oversized men's T-shirt, the hem barely skimming the tops of her thighs. The warm, yellow sunlight from the living room filtered through the frosted glass of the door. Under the soft lighting, her face was flushed such a deep crimson it looked as though it might drip blood.

"Vince... let me help you wash..."