TEN.

—

The rescue finally came.

Not without some adversities.

—

“Stay calm and hang in there!”

Fervent reassurance echoed loudly through a megaphone, bringing hope to the confined survivors inside the storage room.

“We’re coming to your rescue!”

A military evacuation helicopter was flying over the zombie-swarmed rooftop of Section C4. It continued to maneuver steadily and carefully above the building until the pilot finally found a safe angle in the air to commence the rescue mission. The helicopter then stayed static as the armed soldiers took up position and waited for a cue to attack. The buzzing and swishing noise was instantly noticeable and attracted the frenzied undead corpses. Like moths instinctively lured by an intense light, they turned away from the storage room in unison and advanced toward the sole source of the prominent noise.

A pair of armed and readied soldiers were side by side near the edge of the helicopter’s cabin entrance, poised in firing position as they kept their eyes down on the blood-curdling movements on the rooftop. Their throats bobbed, big beads of sweat rolling down their temples. But they maintained their calm, focusing solely on completing their mission. Meanwhile, the undead rampaged unstoppably at the sight of the living humans and reached out toward the helicopter, growling and glaring up at them.

The monstrous hordes were impossible to defeat and seemed to be extremely sensitive to humans’ sounds and visible presence. Obviously, they were driven solely by the rawest predatory instinct to eat and kill. But apparently, they were unintelligent.

Despite them rising from death and becoming unstoppably strong, the rationality they once had when they were human seemed to have rotted away. They kept chasing after the soldiers in sight, thus free-falling off the building and crashing down to the ground. The rescue team leader used the perfect momentum to throw a grenade at the pyramiding zombies and blew them up, collapsing the deadly cluster in an instant. The soldiers then raised their firearms in unison, and after a shouted command, they shot the rest of the zombies that were still running across the rooftop.

Gunfire inevitably fell like non-stop rain.

Inside the storage room, the defenseless survivors gathered to one side right behind the barricaded door, hunkering down with horror settled on their faces. There were no more violent bangs on the door, but then they saw bullets occasionally pass through the thin walls and the ceiling overhead. They cried and screamed. Some were paralyzed by fear in the uncertain turn of events, and others were just too quiet; too emotionally and physically tired to think if they could make it out alive. The rooftop of Section C4—the only area that was supposed to keep them safe—now had become a battleground between the monsters and soldiers.

And among the survivors, Vernon was probably the most troubled one. In this situation, his extraordinary hearing ability unfortunately did him more harm than good.

“Hold on, Vernon-ah!” Seung Kwan protectively held his friend close to his chest. Panic rushed through him and threatened to shatter his sanity, but seeing Vernon collapse in unbearable pain made his heart ache. “Calm down, calm down… we’re gonna be okay, buddy.” His throaty voice was trembling, unconvincing, but there was valor in the way he locked Vernon in his arms as if he would take all the bullets for him. “Let’s wait a little longer. Hold on.”

Desperately pressing his hands against his ears, Vernon let out a muffled groan. “... it’s loud… too loud…”

“Yes, I know. I know.” Seung Kwan impulsively wrapped his arms around Vernon’s head, covering his ears. “Please bear with it, Vernon-ah! It’s gonna be all over soon!”

Vernon suddenly, half-consciously, pushed Seung Kwan away and stood up, his eyes still squeezed shut, louder moans escaping his lips. It clearly appeared that the noise had driven him over the edge as he aimlessly tottered forward. With apprehension twisting their guts, Seung Kwan and Min Gyu in unison warned him to stick close to one another and not make any foolish or reckless moves, but Vernon couldn’t listen to them. His mind had drifted too far away from rationality.

And that was when another bullet suddenly pierced through the thin wall.

“Han Sol-ah!” Seung Kwan leaped up to his feet in breathless horror and pulled back his half-mad friend.

A loud clang of a bullet hitting against a hard metal object was heard, and the next second, shrieks broke out.

Losing his balance from the immediate impact of misfortune, Vernon staggered back into Seung Kwan’s arms and saw the world spinning before his eyes. Fresh blood quickly wetted his collar and flowed down to the front part of his shirt. As his consciousness began to ebb away, he lost control over his limbs. He wanted to raise his hand but couldn’t, which confused him. In fact, he wasn’t yet aware of what happened to him. He felt nothing. He heard sounds. Many sounds. Until they started to grow weaker and weaker, and were finally subdued by vague echoes of Seung Kwan crying heartbreakingly next to him—rising and falling. And he still didn’t know why his good friend kept calling out his name so woefully.

Min Gyu, dreadfully, carefully checked the gushing wound on Vernon’s neck. And upon the realization that the younger guy had just escaped immediate death by a hair’s breadth, the feeling of constriction in his chest eased. A bit. “The bullet didn’t hit him! It only grazed him!” he said, looking at Seung Kwan who quietened quickly.

“Han Sol-ah…” Relieved but still anxious, Seung Kwan dropped his gaze to look at his friend whose hands fell motionless by his side. “Vernon!”

There was no reply. Just an almost inaudible, breathed .

And too much blood.

“Vernon!” Seung Kwan called him again, desperately, giving the limp and silent body a half violent shake. His emotions were like a whirlwind. And later he really couldn’t stop himself from screaming, “Vernon! Can you hear me?! Say something, you bastard!”

“Seung Kwan-ah.” Min Gyu reached out to catch hold of the younger guy’s hand before his raging despair went further, pinning a worried glare at him. It managed to knock some sense into Seung Kwan who fell silent immediately, preventing him from unintendedly hurting Vernon more.

Seung Kwan apologetically shifted his gaze away from the senior, a gruff sigh escaping his chapped lips as he calmed down a little bit. His hands still trembling greatly, he took off his uniform shirt and pressed it hard against the bleeding flesh. He tightened his arms around the limp body that had started to become colder, catching the iron smell of fresh blood that was mixed with the fear within him. “Please, please, don’t die… don’t die on me,” he whispered through clenched teeth, tears dripping off his chin and falling onto Vernon’s face. “... don’t you dare die on me again, bastard.”

“... one more…”

Seung Kwan gasped in surprise. He stared down intently at the deadly pale face and saw the lips moving visibly but inaudibly. Bringing his ear closer to Vernon’s slightly open mouth, he let out a shaky and frightened, “What?”

“... one more… it’s coming our way…”

“What do you mean—one more?”

“... and some whistles… they’re… near...”

“Whistles?”

Unfortunately, this time, Vernon lost consciousness and left those who heard his unexpected murmurs utterly confused. His last word—whistles—eerily rang a bell with Seung Kwan, making him freeze for a moment until he darted a questioning look at Won Woo. They looked into each other’s eyes with a perplexed and dread-filled intensity that couldn’t be decoded by those who were watching their silent interaction.

Min Gyu felt cold chills run down his spine despite the hot stuffy air inside the small room, a curious suspicion lurking in his mind as to why both Seung Kwan and Won Woo seemed as if their souls were choked out of their bodies by the word: whistles. His brow furrowed in concern as he gained no clue. His keen gaze kept shifting between Seung Kwan and Won Woo, but all the gnawing thoughts stayed confined inside his head as he noticed something like remorseful pain shadowing their faces. He knew something had happened to them in his absence. And the little voice in his head then told him that it was most likely related to that person—Hwang Jin Joo. But their expressions made him afraid of asking. Afraid if he would only make things worse than they already were. Because, regardless of how much he despised that person, Seung Kwan and Won Woo seemed to have, more or less, emotionally bonded with her.

Seung Kwan was the first one who broke away eye contact, diverting his attention back to the unconscious Vernon in his arms. He looked so grim, but also confused, his trembling hand continuing to apply pressure on the bleeding wound with the already blood-soaked shirt. Meanwhile, Won Woo dropped his gaze to the floor, looking ghastly and tight-lipped.

“,” Jeong Han grunted hoarsely. “Are they really coming to save us… or kill us all here?”

Min Gyu turned his head back to the senior who somehow managed to remain fully awake. Despite the deadly predicament they were all in, the blonde-haired guy astoundingly looked unbothered. Instead, he was irritated.

“Min Gyu-ya.” Jeong Han’s voice expressed discomfort. He moved his left shoulder, nudging the policeman whose motionless body leaned against the side of his worn-out form. “I don’t think I hear him breathing. Can you check him again?” he told the younger guy lethargically. “Has he died already?”

Min Gyu stiffened. His heart skipped a beat at the words uttered so apathetically.

“I just cut off his arm though…” Jeong Han then coughed, eyes closed.

Suddenly, a hail of bullets ripped savagely through the wall right in front of their eyes, smashing into broken wooden desks and ricocheting off metal frames. What was supposed to be a rescue mission now seemed to have gone wrong. Everyone, again, freaked out at the appalling nearliness of them getting instantly killed by the wandering bullets. Crying, cursing, feeling helpless beyond words. Vernon was perhaps lucky enough to only be grazed by the projectile, but the next one would definitely be not.

Gulping hard at the realization that their lives were hanging by a very fragile thread, Min Gyu glanced troubledly between the two unconscious and heavily injured victims in the group. And his heart twinged with a pang of pity and guilt. He couldn’t do anything for them. He couldn’t think of anything at all when he was also overwhelmed by incessant worries about the safety of those waiting for him at home. Unconsciously, he tightened his hold on Won Woo’s arm and the older guy responded to him with an inquiring calling of his name. Min Gyu blinked, returning to the present moment, and then took in a sharp breath.

“I’m okay, hyung,” Min Gyu muttered shakily, answering the unsaid question that haunted him through Won Woo’s eyes that lingered on him. It sounded like an effortless statement. And Min Gyu was indeed a tough one—so persistent in not wanting to show his weakness. He fought very well and saved everyone fearlessly. But, seeing him closely, Won Woo noticed that his glistening eyes were full of immense fear and sorrow. Like those of a child who was abandoned and lost in the middle of an unknown crowd. A child who couldn’t call anyone for help and just waited for only God knew what.

Min Gyu then slowly peeled himself away from Won Woo, deliberately neglecting his own emotions, and crept toward the young policeman who had obviously plummeted into an awful state. Of course, he was immediately stopped by Won Woo’s blatant refusal to let him make further moves given the unpredictable situation. And given how clumsy and short-sighted he could sometimes be, thus endangering himself. But silently, he gave the older guy a gentle pat on his shoulder, telling him through his gaze to rest assured that he would be very careful.

Min Gyu managed to unharmedly draw himself close to the policeman and checked his condition, looking for any sign of life. He pressed his ear to his chest, and thank God—the heart was still beating. Although weakly.

“Is he dead?” Jeong Han raspily asked.

Min Gyu shook his head. “Apparently, Officer Choi is a brave and strong man,” he commented. “And somehow lucky. But those rescuers out there had better be fast or—”

Suddenly, a shrill scream of a girl filled the small place.

Panic ensued.

Min Gyu quickly looked back and found that the shocking scream came from a female student—Park Da Mi—who was caught in a very unlucky situation. It was neither because of a wandering bullet nor a zombie rising out of nowhere. A high, jumbled-up pile of broken and battered furniture collapsed unexpectedly, coming right in her direction. What would follow next was predictable. And as deadly as getting shot or bitten by the undead. But shocked to the marrow, she was helplessly glued to the floor while everyone was moving away, unprepared for the aftermath of the grievous accident.

“Min Gyu!” Won Woo screamed in abject fear.

As if it could save the girl from the dire danger that was so close to taking her life.

As if it could stop Min Gyu from being possessed by his pure—yet detrimental—instinct to save others in need.

The terrified group of survivors was diverted and dispersed by the danger before their eyes, trying to escape the threatening collapse. But one of them was unluckily shot through the neck and died in an instant, stopping everyone in mid-step. Now they were completely doomed with no way out, hysterical shrieks bursting from their lips. Unbudging, Seung Kwan covered Vernon’s body with his own without a second thought, while Jeong Han had no choice but to summon up the pathetic remnants of his strength to protect the policeman and caught Won Woo by the arm to stop him from recklessly rushing toward Min Gyu altogether. And then Min Gyu—he surely paid the price for being too willing to move his to save others.

There were rattles and then loud, horrifying thuds.

And soon, a heavy silence fell upon the mess.

Park Da Mi saw blurs of black and white as soon as her eyelids fluttered open, and an eerie feeling overwhelmed her. But she couldn’t say a single word. The dust got into her eyes and throat, making her body shake with a fit of coughing. She then heard raspy sounds of labored breathing close to her face, much to her surprise. Trembling, she raised her head slowly and realized that she was still alive because someone—of his own volition—protected her from the fatal impact of the unforeseen mishap.

Tears immediately pooled in Da Mi’s eyes as she looked into the familiar face of the person who had saved her. The face that she adored day and night and always drew on her diary. She never had a chance to look at it from a close distance before. Now she could. But the magnetizing face that always made her heart skip a beat was now contorted with pain. For the sake of her. She reached out her shaking hand to his face. But she couldn’t—was too afraid to—touch him.

“Min Gyu…” she said in a breathy whisper, guilt breaking her heart into pieces. “S-s… Sun… Sunbaenim…”

Min Gyu gazed into her eyes, saying nothing. Bright, red blood ran down his right cheek and dripped off his chin.

And not long after, dreadful loud sounds were heard outside.

Unbeknown to those who were being in a life-and-death situation inside the storage room, the rescue helicopter and the crews shockingly met their doomed fate as another helicopter—one that accidentally carried an infected victim that transformed fast into a vicious living corpse and led everyone in it to horrifying deaths—flew down uncontrollably toward it at very high speed.

The two ill-fated helicopters collided in mid-air and went down just in a matter of seconds. One lunged forward, heading straight toward the right wing of the Section C4 building, and slammed into it before finally rolling across the yard and hitting the zombie-filled road. Meanwhile, the other one spun out of control as its tail rotor was severely damaged, and then crashed against the edge of the rooftop and killed some of the undead on the spot before diving into the ground.

Soon after that, two consecutive and powerful explosions pierced all ears.