The falling I-15 hit the ground and exploded into a large ball of flames. Black smoke shot straight into the sky. The loud rumbling sound made Zhou Changfeng, whose heart was already pounding, feel like his heart was about to jump out of his throat.
He took out a cigarette with slightly trembling hands, but he couldn't find a lighter after touching for several times. However, he saw that the barrel of the machine gun had been overheated due to continuous shooting, so he reached out and poked the cigarette on the barrel.
The dark red barrel is like a cigarette lighter, lighting the cigarette with a "snap" sound.
Some aviation machine guns do not use heavy barrels because the airflow in the air is fast and the temperature is low, and the barrels dissipate heat faster. However, on the ground, light barrels are naturally more likely to overheat.
At this moment, people who had escaped the air raid were running towards the road. Some of them were crying and running straight towards the dozens of meters of road that had just been strafed and bombed.
Adala did not drive onto the messy road, but drove slowly along the road in the fields next to it.
To the left was the scene of a tragic air raid. To be honest, Zhou Changfeng couldn't even bear to look at such a scene.
A section of about 70 meters long was strewn with more than 90 corpses of civilians, and more than 20 wounded soldiers and militiamen also fell in a pool of blood.
Indiscriminately attacking civilians for five trucks? This is simply inhumane.
Just as he was about to pass through this section of the road that was hell on earth, Zhou Changfeng saw a few familiar figures in the corner of his eye, so he quickly called Adala to stop.
I saw children from the apartment building where I had been staying these days gathered together. The little girl named Alyssa was lying on a female corpse and crying loudly.
After getting closer, Zhou Changfeng immediately recognized that the female corpse was her sister.
At a glance, it seems that he was hit in the heart by metal fragments from the truck that were thrown away by the blast wave during the escape.
"Does she still have her family here?" Zhou Changfeng asked. Although he had become familiar with them in the past few days, he did not know the family situation of these children.
Adala translated his words into Spanish and the children's answers into Chinese.
"No, Elisa's father was killed by rebels in Madrid, and her mother was killed by a plane while working at the Guadalajara power plant."
"Then where are the two sisters planning to go?"
"To Tarancon, where their uncle owns a grocery store."
Zhou Changfeng nodded, tilted his head and said, "Adala, ask the people around you to see if anyone is also going to Tarancon, and take this little girl with you."
So Adala asked loudly, and many people just glanced here indifferently, then lowered their heads and walked forward.
After a while, five or six young people came over, and the leading young man said: "Sir, we are reporting to the Tarancon recruit training camp. We can help."
As he spoke, he proudly showed a rough and unclearly printed service certificate.
"Sorry to trouble you." Zhou Changfeng felt that these people were trustworthy, so he took out a few competition towers.
The young man hesitated for a moment, but finally accepted it.
The car started again and gradually accelerated.
One of the downed I-15 fighter jets landed in the southwest, less than a hundred meters away from the road.
The wreckage of the plane was still burning. Several militiamen leaned over against the flames and used shovels and crutches to pull the body of the National Army pilot out of the driver's seat.
After being roasted by the flames for so long, the corpse had already been burned to a crisp, and the items on its body and the celluloid flying glasses had also been melted, emitting a strange smell mixed with grilled steak and burned plastic. smell.
The militiamen probably wanted to check if there was any intelligence that could be collected, but found that the flight log had been burned to char, so they left helplessly.
As soon as they left, the civilians who were onlookers swarmed in, spitting, kicking, and hitting the pilot's body with shovels. In the blink of an eye, the pilot's body was reduced to pieces.
"It is your own fault." Chen Guangyun said casually: "Even if he is not dead, he should be shot."
All actions have a price, and the atrocious and cruel acts of openly attacking civilians are undoubtedly crimes against humanity and do not deserve to be treated as prisoners of war.
They were silent all the way, and when night fell, the three of them arrived at Qinqiong.
After staying at a hotel, Zhou Changfeng rarely went to the store to buy a bottle of wine, and then drank a glass of wine alone on the balcony.
The mellow, dry brandy stimulated the throat, but the spicy feeling soon turned into sweetness and heat.
Before you knew it, the bottle of brandy was empty.
There is a saying that "it takes three minutes to wake up after being drunk." For people with normal alcohol metabolism, it is not easy to completely drink alcohol. The vast majority of people are still conscious to a certain extent even if they are drunk.
Zhou Changfeng, who was half drunk, was thinking a lot. Various scenarios and possibilities were constantly floating in his mind.
He has always felt that he is not as internationalistic as the older generation, but what he experienced yesterday and today deeply hurt his heart. Such cruel situations made him feel the same.
And, the sarcastic words of that well-dressed beast Enrique disgusted him very much.
Such scum is really disgusting!
"Damn it, you took all my notebooks away! Silly stuff."
Because of his unstable mood, the drunk Zhou Changfeng spouted some nonsense after a while, so Chen Guangyun quickly pulled him back from the edge of the balcony. It would be embarrassing if he accidentally fell off.
The next day, morning.
A hangover feels terrible, with headaches, nausea, and vomiting.
Zhou Changfeng, who was still in a bad mood, stood in front of the balcony. After a long period of struggle and weighing, he took a deep breath and finally made a decision in his heart.
"I don't feel good. I need to go to the hospital." He turned around and said.
Chen Guangyun, who was writing and drawing on a blank paper, raised his head in surprise, "What's wrong with you? I'll go with you."
"No, you and Adala can stay here, I can go by myself."
Under the worried and puzzled looks of the two men, Zhou Changfeng straightened his clothes and then left the hotel.
Zhou Changfeng, who was wearing a cross-collar uniform that was different in shape from European military uniforms and carrying a knife at his waist, attracted much attention on the street, but it was also convenient for him to ask for directions.
After arriving at a luxurious and majestic mission hospital, he was slightly surprised by its decoration style - wide and large glass windows, exquisitely painted ceilings, and shiny tiled walls.
Is this a hospital? It looks as fancy as a museum or a church.
After waiting patiently for a quarter of an hour outside the clinic, we finally arrived.
After he entered, the middle-aged doctor who treated him was slightly stunned, not knowing how to communicate, but Zhou Changfeng took the initiative to try in English, and then he was able to continue.
"Sir, where do you feel uncomfortable?"
"I'm not feeling uncomfortable."
The confused doctor pushed up his glasses, thinking he was joking, so he smiled and said, "Then why are you here?"
Zhou Changfeng replied seriously: "I want you to prove that I am sick, um... tuberculosis."
(End of chapter)
