He isn’t dead.

More than that, he isn’t dead and he can breathe.

Sweet, cool, wonderful air is flowing easily into his lungs with every breath, and though he’s not fully awake, he already knows something is different. Other than being able to breathe.

A clicking sound drifts through the air, just like a beep the more he listens. It’s steadying in a way, his breathing in synch with it, calming him as he fights against the sleepiness seemingly threaded through his body. But make no mistake, he’s in no hurry to actually wake. His chest is tight, his body all wound up, and there’s an odd pressure in his head. He feels like he’s been drinking.

An unfamiliar voice drifts in, “These things happen.”

Sunggyu wants to finch back when Woohyun’s voice, and it is most certainly Woohyun, cuts through the air viciously, “What the does that mean?”

“You should try to calm down,” the first voice advises.

And then a second, unknown voice adds, “We’re doing all we can for him, but Doctor Takashi is right, these things do happen in a small percentage of people. There’s no real way to anticipate complications, and as you are not a trained and licensed medical practitioner, you wouldn’t have known the signs to look for.”

Sunggyu’s heart rate picks up a little as Woohyun’s warm fingers close around his wrist, but no one seems to notice. They’re all distracted by Woohyun saying, “But he was perfectly fine.”

Dongwoo adds in, and Sunggyu feels a spike of contentment to know he’s here, “Well, not fine, but he was getting there. He’d been sick for a couple of days, and then got better, just like everyone else. Why would he … relapse like this? And so bad?”

Woohyun’s thumb is rubbing across the sensitive skin on the inside of Sunggyu’s wrist. It’s a nice feeling.

“Because,” the more snappish, second voice says, “all of your friends had some incarnation of the common cold. Kim Sunggyu most certainly has the flu. The difference is important in both recovery rate and complications.”

Worriedly, Sunggyu hears Woohyun ask, “The flu? Is that why he couldn’t breathe?”

Sunggyu gets distracted. The fog in his mind is making it hard to concentrate on anything, and though he’s oddly numb to any sort of pain, he’s certainly not comfortable.

“In some instances, and in your friend’s case, influenza can develop into bacterial pneumonia. The pneumonia is the reason he couldn’t breathe. It’s also a precursor to a seemingly quick recovery from the flu.”

Sunggyu gets his eyes open. It isn’t an easy task, and he has to close them right away because the room is way too bright, but it’s progress, and in a couple of minutes he’ll be ready to try again.

“But he’s better now?” Dongwoo asks, fear lacing his words. “I mean, he’s not coughing or choking anymore, and he’s breathing okay.”

“Okay?” the much nicer, first voice asks. “Okay is a relative term, I’m afraid. With the aid of ventilator he’s breathing well, but if we took it him off it his oxygen levels would dip significantly. It’s simply not an option right now.”

This is when Sunggyu gets his eyes open, to the sight of absolutely no one paying attention to him. He squints against the bright lights of the white room he’s in, trying to get his bearings, struggling to make sense of what’s happened to him. He can feel pressure at the back of his hand, and across his mouth, and it’s unsettling, but he can’t quite move enough to check out why.

“Then what are you planning to do about getting him better?” Woohyun snaps, his grip on Sunggyu tightening. “What are you giving him, besides oxygen and a saline drip?”

The hospital. This must be the hospital. Sunggyu is sure of it.

“I’ve already advised you to calm down,” the testy voice says. “If you continue to act in this manner I’ll be forced to--”

“You’ll do what?” Woohyun shouts, letting go of Sunggyu’s hand.

“Enough,” a quiet but absolutely authoritative voice says, silencing everyone in the room. “Stop this now.”

Kenji.

“No,” Woohyun snaps, turning his rage on the older man. “This is supposed to be a hospital, filled with capable doctors. The person I love is very sick and I want to know what they’re doing to help him. I deserve to know.”

Kenji says, tone even, “I’m not disputing that. But you will lower your voice, and calm yourself or I’ll personally you to a place that you can do that. This is a hospital. Respect that.”

It takes a second more for Sunggyu to fully gain control of his hand, fingers twitching as he concentrates. He brings his hand up to his face and feels along something plastic and hard blocking his mouth and nose.

“Fine,” Woohyun huffs.

“We all care about him,” Kenji says quietly.

Dongwoo’s voice breaks through, “You are fixing Gyu, right? Giving him something?”

A voice says, one that must belong to a doctor, “There isn’t much that can actually be done for the influenza. Believe it or not, due to the rapidly mutating strands that appear and change each year, rest and frequent liquids are still the best options in Sunggyu’s case. Antivirals are a consideration to some degree, but Sunggyu is young and strong and simple acetaminophen is what we’re going to stick with for now. He’ll fight the influenza off on his own.”

“But if he doesn’t?” Kenji asks.

A sigh carries through to Sunggyu’s ears. “We’ll reevaluate his situation in the morning. For now, he’s stable.”

Sunyyu is barely paying the other people in the room any mind. He’s completely focused on the plastic covering his face, and how to get it off. It seems strapped on tight, but he’s determined.

“But what about the pneumonia?” Woohyun asks.

Dongwoo leans over Sunggyu suddenly, eyes wide. “Sunggyu? Are you with us?”

Dongwoo nearly goes flying across the room as Woohyun pushes him out of the way, taking his place and cupping the side of Sunggyu’s face.

“Sunggyu?” There’s so much relief in Woohyun’s voice, and seconds later there are relieved tears in his eyes. “It’s okay, Gyu. I swear, you’re okay. You’re at the hospital and you have been since last night when you woke up having trouble breathing.”

So he’s sick. This explains the hospital, of course, and why he’s so relieved he can breathe, but he honestly can’t remember much from the past few days.

“Don’t touch that,” Woohyun says, catching his fingers and holding him tight before he can have another go at the plastic device. “You need a little help breathing right now and it’s helping. You have to leave it on. Can you understand?”

At least this much, Sunggyu does. He gives the barest hint of a nod and holds still as Woohyun drops a kiss to his head.

“I’m really glad you’re okay,” Dongwoo says, creeping his way back to Sunggyu’s side.

Kenji inches his way into Sunggyu’s line of sight, his pinch faced in some kind of worried expression. “You look like crap, Sunggyu. But you’re going to be okay.”

Woohyun shoots Kenji a harsh look laced under a layer of appreciation, but at the look of confusion on Sunggyu’s face, explains, “When you couldn’t breathe Hoya ran to get the doctor. He knew you were in serious trouble right away, and wanted to have you moved to the nearest hospital. Kenji … he … he’s the one who got us the car lightening fast. We owe him a lot.” It looks like it really pains Woohyun to admit such a thing, which only indicates the severity of the situation.

All of the sudden, and without any warning, Sunggyu’s eyelids feel heavy. They almost feel like they’re being slammed down by an unknown force by the overwhelming urge to sleep that threatens to overtake him.

“Tired?” Woohyun asks, fingers scratching gently at Sunggyu’s hairline. “You’re still pretty sick. You can sleep if you want to. I’m staying right here.”

The oxygen being forced into his lungs by the machine next to his bed is cold, but it only serves to highly to Sunggyu how hot he feels. A contradictory chill runs its way through Sunggyu’s body and he wants to cry in pure frustration. He hates being sick. He hates it more than anything else.

“Sleep,” Woohyun says again, his lips blissfully cool against Sunggyu’s forehead for another kiss. “You won’t wake up alone.”

He doesn’t wake up alone. He just doesn’t wake up with Woohyun next to him, either. Instead he’s got a sleeping Dongwoo in the chair next to his bed, and Hoya pacing in front of him.

“Sunggyu,” Hoya says quietly, the second he realizes Sunggyu is awake. He trots the short distance to Sunggyu’s bed and presses the back of his hand to Sunggyu’s forehead. He tries not to make a show if it, either in how fast he takes his hand away, or the expression on his face, but even in his medically drugged state, Sunggyu can tell something is bad.

“Water?” he chokes out, the first word he’s probably said in days. It barely sounds like a word, truthfully, and the force of the exhale that accompanies it fogs up the oxygen mask, making him cough.

“Here, here,” Hoya says, springing into action. He pours water from a bedside pitcher into a small cup and carefully helps Sunggyu slide the mask away, then take tiny sips. “Pace yourself,” he warns. “If you choke to death on water Woohyun will kill me in return. And he’s wound up tight enough right now to do it.”

Sunggyu finishes all the water he can, which is less than half of what Hoya’s poured, and squints at him. Something is wrong with the picture in front of him, he just can’t think clearly enough to piece it together.

“What?” Hoya asks, head cocked. “You want Woohyun? I think he’s off arguing with Kenji and two of your doctors. They’re trying to figure out what to do.”

Thunder cracks loud, and very close, and a second later lightening flashes through the window. Sunggyu doesn’t know what time a day it is, but it feels like it’s been storming forever. Maybe it has. Maybe a great flood will come and wipe the entire island out, and instead of suffocating from a lack of air, Sunggyu will drown in the ocean.

“Hot,” Sunggyu whimpers, because he feels like there’s a heat boiling under his skin.

“You have a fever,” Hoya says. “A worse one than before. There’s a nurse who’s supposed to come and pack you with cold compresses to try and get your core temperature down in about twenty minutes. If that doesn’t work … jeeze, that’s what Woohyun and Kenji are fighting over right now.”

Sunggyu blurts out, “Baby.” It’s what’s missing from Hoya. A baby and a kid and a bright faced young man who’s more like a mother to the two of them.

Hoya pats Sunggyu’s leg through the blanket. “Jiyeon? She’s just fine, Sunggyu. I promise. She and Sunyeol and Sungjong are just keeping their distance until you stabilize. They’re still here at the hospital, they’re just a few floors down.”

Hoya trips up on his words and Sunggyu doesn’t know what it means.

“Truth,” he demands, having to close his eyes as the room spins around him. He can handle the truth … he just might not understand it.

“Woohyun would kill me.”

“Don’t care.” He has to know why he’s still fighting for air, why every breath is raspy and … wet.

Hoya cracks a smile. “I know you don’t, you tough son of a .” Hoya takes a deep breath and kicks sharply at Dongwoo’s chair.

“I’m up!” the younger man shouts, bolting to his feet with a look of panic.

“Sorry,” Hoya says, not sounding it at all. “Sunggyu’s awake We want to talk about how hot boys are. Get out.”

Dongwoo’s eyes narrow. “You don’t like boys, Hoya.”

Hoya gives him a significant leer, “Who told you that?”

It’s just barely enough to get Dongwoo out into the hallway with the promise to keep his mouth shut about Sunggyu being awake for fifteen minutes. Considering Dongwoo’s

inability to stay quiet for any amount of time, Sunggyu thinks they have ten at the most. Ten is generous.

Hoya turns to Sunggyu with a long face. “The doctors and your boyfriend, and your not boyfriend who wants to be your boyfriend, are all arguing over whether to evacuate you to a more equipped island. An island that’s closer to mainland Japan and therefore was better stocked medically. The best candidate right now is Oshima.”

“Why?” Sunggyu asks. He’s already at a hospital. Hospitals make people feel better. The idea of leaving is confusing.

“Because,” Hoya says with such weariness, “you had to go and be special, picking up some pneumonia to go with that influenza of yours. Second onset bacteria pneumonia to boot. That’s the kind of stuff that’s hard to fight off, especially without any antibiotics.”

Sunggyu’s eyes drift down to the big IV sticking out the back of his hand. “I’m …” he has to stop to cough, feeling wretched and tired again before it’s done. “Not getting better?”

Hoya shakes his head slowly. “Your fever is only rising, your numbers are not good and getting worse. You need antibiotics, and there are none here at the hospital. I mean, I assume there were before the world went to hell, but there are none now. Some civilians stole them, and even some of the doctors did. The point is, none of them are giving the antibiotics up unless it’s over their dead bodies, and we don’t have the time to try and figure out a compromise. So Kenji wants to move you right away to an island that is confirmed to have antibiotics, Oshima, and one of your doctors supports that. The other doesn’t. He thinks the trip alone will likely kill you unless you’re stronger, and Woohyun’s too afraid to risk that. That second doctor wants to wait and see if they can bring your fever down a little and get your stronger before moving you. So they’re at a stalemate, but something has to happen soon.”

“How?”

“How?” Hoya repeats, not understanding. “How come you need antibiotics? It’s the pneumonia, Sunggyu. It’s your lungs that have the infection.”

“No,” Sunggyu says, coughing again, trying to turn into himself with the pain. Even with the oxygen mask, breathing is still harder than normal. “How … I’m not … special.” He’s gasping for air before he’s done, barely managing to add, “For me?”

“The transport,” Hoya guesses, and Sunggyu sags with relief. “Apparently all of the currently occupied islands, the Izu Islands, are connected. There’s one single ferry that goes between them, taking essential personnel and supplies where they’re needed. It’s sheer dumb luck that the ferry is docked with us for the next couple of days. The weather’s been way too bad for it to make a trip out to sea right now. When it goes out, and it’s scheduled to leave tomorrow morning, Kenji says he can get you on it, and get you to a better hospital.”

“Have to?” Sunggyu wheezes out.

Hoya shrugs. “One doctor thinks you won’t make it to the end of the week before your lungs give out on you and you drown in the liquid in them. He’s telling Kenji that you have to be on that ferry. And the other says you’re strong enough to fight without the antibiotics for now, and thinks we might be able to get you a little better, too. He says you’ve got a real chance, if we take every precaution and don’t do something traumatic like putting you on a ferry and forcing you to travel all the way to another island for medical care. Honestly, Sunggyu, both doctors seem confident in their stances and I don’t know who to believe. I just know you look … I’m worried, okay? When you couldn’t breathe, that’s the most scared I’ve ever been in my life. I was more scared then than when I was surrounded by zombies eating everyone I’d ever known.”

“Yunho,” Sunggyu decides. He needs to speak to Yunho. Anyway, these are the kinds of matters that significant others are expected to make, not sick parties. Yunho can decide what he thinks is best for Sunggyu, and Sunggyu will go along with it. “Ask him.”

“Sunggyu,” Hoya says gently, “we haven’t had contact with your brother or anyone else on that ship for a while.”

“Get him,” Sunggyu tries again. He doesn’t understand why it’s so hard.

“Maybe,” Hoya muses, more to himself than Sunggyu, “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Hot,” Sunggyu mumbles, kicking at his blankets. “Too hot. Hoya.”

“I know,” Hoya sooths. “Just hang on for a little bit, okay?”

But he can’t. This heat is nothing like he’s ever felt before. It’s unbearable and it’s driving him crazy. He has to get away from it. He has to stop it. He has to do something--anything, or he feels like his head is going to explode.

“Sunggyu,” Hoya warns, rising up from his chair. “I’m going to get the doctor.”

There’s a brief second of reprieve from the situation where Sunggyu understands, then his mind is frying, his muscles are locking up and he’s seizing.

He doesn’t wake up again for a while.

When he does, he’s in absolute agony. His body feels like it’s on fire, and not just from the endless heat boiling under his skin. Every movement causes a spike of pain, and every breath is a fight.

So he lays still, breathing in as much pure oxygen as he can handle, and prays that this isn’t how he dies, in agony and broken.

“Sunggyu?” Rough hands the side of his face gently. “Can you hear me?”

“Woo …” He can’t concentrate on anything. To Sunggyu, it feels like reality is slipping between his fingers, or maybe oozing out from his ears. It’s hard to say for certain.

“It’s me,” the person above him says, certainly not Woohyun. “And that idiot might be willing to take his chances here, and risk you dying, but I’m not. I am not going to risk you, Sunggyu.”

The machines around him quiet down into silence and Sunggyu’s able to crack open his eyes enough to make out Kenji above him, flipping switches while a man in a white coat stands near by.

“Do you have everything I asked for?” Kenji asks quickly, sliding the IV out of the back of Sunggyu’s hand, pulling off other monitors lighting quick. “We’re only going to have a very short window to get to the ferry before anyone comes looking for us.”

“We’re set,” the other man says. “But we need to be quick about it. Very quick.”

“Kenji,” Sunggyu slurs out, mouth unable to form words properly. It’s as if his brain has simply stopped working, the hotter he gets. His head lulls to the side as he’s lifted from the hospital bed, caught up in Kenji’s powerful grip.

“Now,” the other man urges. “We must go now.”

He doesn’t know what’s happening. This seems to be the gist of his life right now, but as he’s carried away, from his hospital room, from Woohyun, from everything that he knows, he doesn’t know why.

It feels like a betrayal in some way, even as Kenji promises him that he’ll be okay, and that he’s going to live, and that no matter what, things will work out.

“Woohyun,” he hears himself mumble. Woohyun is the only one he wants, the only one who can make him feel better just by holding his hand. Woohyun.

A heavy door bangs open and Sunggyu almost weeps with relief when cold air whips over his skin, and then colder rain. It’s the best feeling in the world, and he sinks a little heavier into Kenji’s arms, only now noticing for the first time that Kenji and the other man are talking between themselves.

Then Kenji leans down, his mouth next to Sunggyu’s ear and says, “I’m taking you to a car. Once I get you in there, there’s a portable oxygen tank that we’ll get you hooked up to right away. Not more than a minute. I swear to you.”

Sunggyu’s only just now realizes that he’s breathing in small, panting gasps.

Lightening cuts through the sky and it’s enough illumination for Sunggyu to see that they’re ducking through a back alley. They must have gone through the backdoor. The notion makes Sunggyu’s heart fall. How will Woohyun know to follow through the back door when he finds the hospital room empty? Will he even come at all?

It’s all too fast that he’s out of the rain, in a rumbling vehicle that has the heat on blast. He’s bent at weird angles in the backseat and the other man, not Kenji, is leaning over him in his personal space, making him more uncomfortable than he already is, at least until he realizes the man is merely getting him hooked up to the travel sized oxygen tank.

Sunggy’s head tips back and all he can see through the backseat’s window is an endlessly black sky. Rain droplets are hitting the clear glass, bouncing off and streaking down in an almost hypnotic way, but all Sunggyu can focus on is the blackness.

An almost inhuman cry cuts through the air and Sungyu’s eyes close. He’s so tired. He just wants to sleep some more, especially now that he can breathe. It doesn’t even bother him that the backseat door near his feet is open, and the rain is soaking through his hospital issued socks.

Thunder rumbles again. This is the worst storm Sunggyu can remember in a long time.

He misses his mom. He misses her warm coco on stormy nights. He misses his dad sitting up late with him at night, counting the seconds between the boom of thunder and the flash of lightening. But mostly, more than anything else, he misses building blanket forts with Yunho, being young enough to envision the cotton is more than adequate protection against scary storms. Huddling underneath with Yunho, a flashlight in each of their hands, telling the funniest, craziest, not scary stories ever, laughing so hard mom has to come in and tell them to quiet down and go to bed.

He misses the before.

He hates the after.

More yelling, more shouting, more thunder. This is what Sunggyu’s world boils down to.

At least until the door near Sunggyu’s head pops open and Woohyun is there, peppering his face with kisses, breathlessly demanding to know if Sunggyu is okay. He’s whispering how much he loves Sunggyu even as shouting continues.

“Woohyun,” Sunggyu breathes out, his fingers threading Woohyun’s. “You’re here.”

“I’m here,” Woohyun confirms. “I’m sorry I didn’t get to you sooner.”

Kenji shouts, louder than the thunder even, “You’re going to get him killed!”

“No!” Woohyun screams, rounding back on him. “You and your stupid, ridiculous obsession with him is going to do that! He can’t be moved like this, he isn’t stable!”

Through lidded eyes, the image upside down, Sunggyu can see Kenji with a bloody mouth getting to his feet, shoving wildly at Hoya who has equally bloody knuckles.

“Sunggyu?”

Gentle hands tap at Sunggy’s face, and as he turns to see Sungyeol he can hear a baby crying. Jiyeon. He can hear Jiyeon.

“Sungyeol,” Sunggyu says, voice muffled by the oxygen mask. “Why are …”

“Shh,” Sungyeol sooths. “Don’t worry about that now. Rest, okay? We’re all here. We’re all safe.”

Kenji’s voice booms again, “He needs antibiotics to live! How do you not understand that? He doesn’t have time to wait, and he isn’t going to get better on his own. This is his only shot to live!”

Woohyun responds, “I was standing next to you when you made the call to HQ about the ferry’s departing schedule It’s not set to leave until tomorrow morning ! Were you just going to hide on it with Sunggyu until then?”

“I know the captain,” Kenji argues back. “He’s willing to leave early, without permission if necessary.”

“Well you know everyone, don’t you!”

“Stop shouting!” Sungyeol screams, surprising everyone as he ducks away from Sunggyu and back out into the storm. “Stop fighting! Sunggyu needs immediate medical attention and all you two can do is point fingers at each other and raise your voices. So just stop it!”

Sunggyu can tell he’s starting to black out. He can’t hold onto the little focus he’s had for the past few minutes, and the world spinning around him is beginning to blur into one chaotic, migraine inducing image. And his toes are cold. At least finally, something is cold.

He’s half convinced for a second that he’s finally having the brain aneurism that he’s been expecting for a few days now. Because the world is lighting up around him, too much to make sense with the storm around them, and what follows is something a hundred times louder than the thunder, something that makes the ground feel like it’s shaking under Sunggyu.

His theory of an aneurism holds at least until he hears other people screaming--not at each other, but out of fear. Then he realizes the ground is shaking for real, and whatever’s lighting p the sky so brilliantly, is something everyone can see.

“What the hell was that?” Dongwoo asks, moving just close enough that Sunggyu can see he has Jiyeon huddled protectively in his coat, blocked from the rain. Sungjong isn’t too far away either, his jacket pulled up over his head.

“I don’t know,” Kenji says. Then he turns to Woohyun and request, “Let the doctor check on Sunggyu.”

“I’m not--”

“I said,” Kenji grinds out, “the doctor. Not me.”

Sunggyu has a blood pressure cuff around his arm shortly after that, and it’s inflating when the radio clipped to Kenji’s belt goes off like crazy. He steps away to speak into it, ignoring the rain like it doesn’t exist, and Woohyun takes the opportunity to slide back into the car and check on Sunggyu.

“What’s wrong?” Sunggyu asks, struggling to keep himself awake. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Woohyun sooths. “You have nothing to worry about. Just let the doctor check on you, okay?”

Sunggyu nods wordlessly, cold, wet toes wiggling.

Kenji slides back into the picture with a look that Sunggyu has never seen before on his face. The radio, still spewing out endless Japanese, is clutched in one hand, and a … a gun is in the other.

“We need to leave now,” Kenji says, voice so low it’s almost a grow. “Let me be clear. We are leaving now.”

“You’re crazy,” Woohyun snaps right away.

Sunggyu shakes with feverish chills as Kenji raises the gun, bringing it square to Woohyun’s chest.

“We have about four minutes, five if we’re very lucky, before this island is overrun by infected. Do you want Sunggyu live?”

“What--”

“I said,” Kenji shouts, finger resting on the trigger of the gun, “do you want Sunggyu and the baby and the kid to live?”

It’s Sungyeol who’s the scary one though, scarier than Woohyun and Kenji put together, when he steps deliberately in front of Woohyun, facing down the gun and says, “If you so much as reference my sister again while holding that gun, I will kill you.”

“That explosion?” Kenji rushes to say. “It was a plane crash.”

Dongwoo frowns. “I didn’t think planes were flying anymore? Except for maybe the military.”

Kenji allows, taking a step forward with the gun still held at Sungyeol, “It was a cargo plane. It just crashed into the north side of this island, about three miles from here. It was likely bringing in cultures and samples of the infection for research. There are scientists on this island researching a cure.”

Hoya shouts angrily, “You’re bringing the infection willingly to the island!”

Kenji rockets back, “Samples! For work on a cure! And for the record, my superiors have made that call, not me. Regardless, that plane just crashed, and there are reports of infected on the island already. In another minute those infected will have already attacked people on this island while I stand here explaining this to you like you’re idiots, infecting even more people. In more like three, maybe four minutes, this island will be overrun. It will be gone, and everyone on it will be dead. There is a ferry waiting at the harbor. If we get there in time, we can live. So I will ask you all one more time, who wants to live and who wants to die? That baby can’t run, and neither can Sunggyu. You want a chance at living before the infection gets here, then you get in the truck right now.”

Sunggyu doesn’t see it coming, and he’s pretty sure no one else, including Kenji, sees Sungyeol’s fist coming. But he reels back, fingers bunched up expertly, like someone’s shown him exactly how to hit, and hits Kenji square in the jaw.

Woohyun deadpans to Sungyeol, “You are absolutely my new favorite person.”

Sungggyu hates to be a mood ruiner, almost as much as he hates being sick, but all of the sudden the oxygen he’s breathing in isn’t enough and he’s gasping for air like the mask over his face means nothing.

Woohyun, the last of the color spilling out of his face, turns to Kenji and demands, “There’s no chance the heavy military presence on this island will be able to stop the infected? Because you know taking a boat out on the ocean right now, especially with Sunggyu like this, is likely to get everyone killed.”

“If we stay here,” Kenji says, gun lowering a bit, “we either turn into one of those things, or we get eaten by one. Take your pick. And no, the military can’t stop the infection. It’s already too late.” He turns to Sungyeol and adds, “That was a wicked swing. Have you considered a career in the military?”

A second explosion, this time much closer, echoes up above the rain, lighting the sky for a second, acting as a reminder.

Then a siren sounds, and Kenji says, “That’s the call for complete evacuation. We probably have two minutes now before we lose the island completely.”

“I still hate you,” Woohyun snaps, “but we need to go now.”

There’s not enough room for Sunggyu lay down in the backseat anymore, and as he gasps for air, squished in between the doctor and Woohyun, fighting the hypoxia creeping over him, all he thinsk about is that it’s utterly ridiculous that this is how it ends now. To have survived Seoul, the attack on the ship from the Chinese, loneliness, food rations, separation, and so many other things, it’s almost offensive that the die now.

“Kenji,” Sunggyu doesn’t even recognize his own voice now. He reaches forward, a shaking hand resting on Kenji’s shoulder as he slides into the driver’s seat, foot slamming on the gas. “Drive faster.”

The military is everywhere.

Sunggyu’s always known their presence is huge on the island, a thirtieth or more of the population at least, but as they race down the main highway, jetting around slower moving vehicles, and hugging the road’s curves impressively, Sunggyu’s mind stays fixating on the amount of military whizzing past them. They’re certainly on the move, dashing everywhere, scurrying to contain a threat they can’t.

Sungyeol holds to the truck’s door handle tightly, Jiyeon screaming bloody murder in his lap, and shouts, “So help me if you crash this truck on the way to our escape!”

“My guy won’t wait forever,” Kenji shouts, “and he won’t wait a second longer than the first time he sees one of those zombies.”

Hoya demands, “What’s the evacuation plan for everyone else? Are some of them going to meet us at the ferry?”

Kenji laughs out darkly, “Evacuation plan? Come on now. There might be siren, but there isn’t much more. Not yet. I think you’ve overestimating how together people have things here.”

Shakily, Woohyun askes, “What does that mean?”

Sighing, Kenji says, “Where would the civilians be able to go in the first place? This is an isolated island. It has a series of fishing boats, a few naval ships further out, and one large ferry that we are on route to. There is no way off this island except by boat right now, and our ferry won’t hold more than a hundred. Important personnel are evacuating right now with the military protecting them, but they don’t care about the civilians. The military won’t prioritize them over the scientists. The civilians are …they won’t get the help they need. They just don’t know that yet, and if they were aware of the ferry, they would swarm it in a second.”

“So you’re just going to let them die?” Sungyeol asks, voice quivering. “You could make an announcement. You could radio someone and help at least a few people survive. There are tons of kids on his island! We have to tell people they have a way off the island.”

Kenji is silent for a moment, taking a corner too sharply at one point, then says, “I want you to understand something. To save Sunggyu and the baby and the rest of you it means I have to go against everything I believe in. I have to keep the ferry a secret, and let others die, because we’d have thousands at the ferry trying to board it in seconds if I made a single call on the radio. I have to turn my back on the people I’m supposed to protect to keep you alive. Don’t forget that.”

They blow through the unmanned checkpoint two and half minutes later, the rearview mirror filled with more explosions, screams of terror, and the end of the best shot at happiness Sunggyu imagines he’ll see for a long time. If ever.

“Run ahead,” Kenji tells Dongwoo, hitching up a struggling Sunggyu before Woohyun can even blink. “Tell the ferry captain we’re coming in hot, get the engines going, and I’ll ing kill him if he leaves before Sunggyu is on board.”

Dongwoo, who’s surprisingly fast, is gone in the blink of an eye, sprinting towards the docked ferry, running against the rain easily.

Automatic gunfire slams through the air behind them, too close for comfort.

“Can you fire a gun?” Kenji demands from Woohyun as they jog towards the ferry. He juggles Sunggyu for a minute, having to bear his weight and the oxygen tank, then tosses his gun to Woohyun.

“The safety was on the whole time?” Woohyun demands incredulously, peering down at the gun.

“You think I’d point a gun at anyone with a bunch of kids standing around, if the safety wasn’t on?” Kenji asks, eyebrow arched.

The ferry’s engines are kicking up all kinds of water by the time they reach the ramp, and Dongwoo’s standing at the ready to help Sungyeol, Jiyeon and Sungjong over.

“Keep that gun on you at all times, just in case,” Kenji says, striding up the boarding ramp. He waits for Woohyun to tuck it away safely. “You might run into some trouble later on, and you’d be surprised what a gun can get you.”

Sunggyu’s blinks into awareness when he feels himself being handed over to Woohyun who struggles under his weight for a moment, then gets a firm grip on him.

“Kenji?” Sunggyu reaches out for him.

Kenji takes a decisive step back as the captain of the ferry blows his horn.

Even Woohyun is confused, asking, “What’re you doing?”

There’s a black swarm moving towards the harbor at an alarming pace. It’s only when the swarm is close enough to sound like a pack of snarling beasts do any of them realize it’s a large number of infected coming together.

“I have to go back,” Kenji says, hopping back onto the nearby dock and retracting the walkway. He shouts up at them, struggling to be heard over the viciousness of the storm that knocks the ferry around terribly, “Those are my men back there! And I might just have a chance at saving someone else. I have to do what I can!”

“Don’t be stupid!” Woohyun calls out. “I hate you, but don’t be stupid! Get back up here!”

“I have to try!” Kenji calls back, reaching or his backup weapon. He flips the safety off and readies it into position. “Take care of him, Woohyun! Don’t you let anything happen to him or I’m coming for you personally!” Then Kenji turns and sprints back towards his truck.

“What’s happening?” Sunggyu asks as the ferry gives a sudden jerk, nearly taking them all off their feet. His legs swing boneless as he’s carried from the rain, into the main area of the ferry and laid out on a long table.

“Sunggyu?” the doctor says, adjusting the oxygen tank a bit. “I’m Doctor Takashi. Can you tell me how you feel?”

“Dizzy,” Sunggyu says honestly. “Is the ground moving?”

Woohyun lets out a chuckle and takes a nearby towel to blot out the rainwater on Sunggyu’s face. “It’s the boat we’re on.”

“Can you breathe alright?” the doctor asks. “I’ve increased your oxygen intake.”

“I don’t know,” he replies, more than a little light headed.

Quietly, Sunggyu hears Woohyun ask, “Are we going to have enough oxygen to get all the way there?”

Sunggyu can’t even hear the response, if there is one. The ferry is rumbling under him, the extra oxygen starts to hit his system, and he’s starting to drift again. He can feel the dabbing of the towel on his forehead, and he can hear Jiyeon still crying, probably upset from getting wet.

“Woohyun,” he finds himself asking, fingers reaching up to snag Woohyun’s sleeve. “Where’s Kenji?” He’s supposed to be with them, taking them to safety, this is what Sunggyu remembers, even if he doesn’t have all the pieces as to why.

Woohyun sighs. “He’s off being a better person than I actually want him to be.”

“Oh, damn,” Hoya wheezes out, sitting near them, cradling his forehead as the ship sways.

The intercom crackles a little, and then the captain’s voice announces, “Everyone hold onto something. It’s about to get rough.”

Looking queasy, Sungyeol asks, “This isn’t rough already?”

“I’ve got you,” Woohyun promises, putting his face level with Sunggyu’s. “You got me?”

With as much sincerity as Sunggyu is humanly capable of, he pants out, “Always.”

Three hours later when his temperature spikes again, bringing with it a terrible seizure, and the doctor worries he’s entering the first stage of septic shock, always doesn’t seem long enough.