It was a very cold night and the chill wind almost froze the moon.
The baby's intermittent crying continued, and as the distance got closer, the sound became clearer, dry, torn, painful, as if being tortured by the devil. However, the horror was far from over. When Harper hurriedly passed a factory building, a sharp howl suddenly sounded in his ears, followed by a pair of cold and dry hands, which grabbed his windbreaker vigorously.
"Please, save me." The other person cried in panic, her long pink hair like seaweed hanging down to the ground. When she raised her head, her face looked pale and distorted under the moonlight. She was a young woman about twenty years old.
A bullet was coming through the wind from behind her.
A cold light flashed in Harper's eyes. He put his left hand around the girl's waist and gently pulled her counterclockwise. At the same time, his right hand quickly blocked behind her and held the tube of cold liquid.
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