ELEVEN.

—

Zombies were not the only things that were inescapable.

There was bad luck. And then there were unfinished businesses with the dead.

—

Breathing unevenly, Min Gyu weakly opened his eyes into a blur of white that gradually resolved itself into floating specks of dust, a cramped place, and a worry-filled expression of someone who never left his side. After fainting for a moment, he somehow managed to regain his consciousness, little by little. And the first face he saw was Won Woo’s, to which he didn’t know how to react. His mind was a complete blank, like the undisturbed surface of a lake in a very quiet isolated place. Until faint distant echoes at the back of his head gradually turned into a familiar voice that kept calling his name, shocking his systems, like heavy raindrops that fell on the still water and made it ripple.

“Min Gyu!”

Min Gyu swallowed a dry lump in his throat, trying to focus his eyes and find his memory. “... Won Woo hyung.”

Won Woo heaved a long and audible sigh as if whatever that had been restraining his breathing had been removed from him, dropping himself heavily onto the floor in front of the younger guy, not even a second taking his eyes off him. Chaotic, intertwined feelings—anger, worry, helplessness, and fear—threatened to break the invisible cage inside him and burst forth as he remembered how damn close he was to seeing Min Gyu die on his watch. But all words that carried the weight of his feelings were kept under his throat. They wouldn’t change anything anyway. They would never be able to stop Min Gyu—this unbelievably gallant motherer, Won Woo cursed inwardly—and his impetuous tendency to save others at the sacrifice of his own safety. And even life.

“Hyung…”

Min Gyu closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. When his eyes flicked back open, he put his hand on Won Woo’s tending one that continued to gently press on his head injury with a soft piece of fabric.

“Thanks, hyung,” Min Gyu said raspily. “It’s okay. Let me do this.”

Won Woo remained quiet, withdrawing his hand.

“... Park Da Mi… how is she?”

Before Won Woo could answer the younger guy, a familiar voice immediately came to him.

“Min Gyu... S-Sunbaenim…”

Min Gyu turned his head slowly in the direction of the sobbing voice. His vision blurred all of a sudden, but after the fogged moment ebbed away, he could clearly see the trembling figure of a girl who was the last person he could vividly remember before the darkness swallowed him whole. Now she was there at the side of the wall across from him, looking at him with a mixture of guilt and gratitude, her sad voice seeping into him through the remaining bits of his concussion. And she seemed uninjured, much to his relief.

“Sunbaenim…” Da Mi called him again after managing to overcome her stammer. She stayed where she sat herself, wise enough not to come closer to the senior who always wore his most unapproachable expression when looking at her. “Thank you… for saving my life,” she said with an accent of the utmost sincerity.

Min Gyu turned his face away but then muttered, “Be careful next time.”

The tearful beauty dropped her gaze and her hand went up to wipe away the warm wetness on her face. Then she nodded and promised, “I will.”

Min Gyu glanced back at Won Woo, and he was instantly unable to pull his eyes away from the older guy’s scolding ones. His lips remained tightly closed, but Min Gyu shivered a little as he could see how much Won Woo tried to refrain himself from punching him in the face. Clearly and unmistakably, Min Gyu could hear him telling him off through his sharp stare: ‘You too, be ing careful.’

Awkwardly, Min Gyu feigned a cough while shifting his gaze from Won Woo. A sharp, uncomfortable twinge spread across the swelling and wound on his head, but he continued to bear it, looking around his surroundings. He found that the countless broken and unused chairs and desks that previously made everyone go into a frenzied panic, and almost killed him, had been moved away to the furthest and safest corner—along with the corpses—and piled up again in a way that, although not really orderly, gave more convenient space for them to wait and stay inside the room for a while. And then chills ran down his spine when he finally realized how eerily quiet, and alarmingly despondent, the others seemed.

Something was wrong.

Leaning against the wall not far from Min Gyu and Won Woo, Jeong Han almost looked like a long-abandoned porcelain doll. So quiet, motionless, and detached—as if that was a mere human-shaped vessel without a soul. He was no longer unbotheredly resting himself, his eyes remaining open and slowly blinking, staring at the floor and into nothingness. He might seem fully awake, but the look of blank grimness on his blood-splattered face made the unease in Min Gyu’s chest tighten. Despite having the exquisite beauty of an angel as to how people commonly defined him, Jeong Han had quite a sharp tongue that wasn’t easy to deal with sometimes. But even so, Min Gyu would much rather hear the older guy’s harsh or bitter speech than see him broodingly silent.

“Min Gyu hyung, how are you feeling?”

Min Gyu was suddenly stopped in his invisible train of thought by a question that encased worry and curiosity. He turned his head and his eyes immediately met Seung Kwan’s puffed and weary ones.

“I can’t really tell,” Min Gyu told him in all honesty. “But I somehow don’t lose my memories after my head got pretty hard, so I guess I’m okay?”

The corners of Min Gyu’s lips curled up slightly as he tried to help ease the junior’s mind by twisting the tragedy that involved him with a little bit of humor. But then the somber situation killed that spark of amusement almost instantly. A relieved smile flashed across Seung Kwan’s face, but Min Gyu, unfortunately, missed it as he concernedly shifted his gaze down to the blood-soaked layers of cloth that buried the neck and shoulder of the unconscious young man in Seung Kwan’s arms.

Min Gyu swallowed a dry gulp, then asked, “How is Vernon?”

“The bleeding seems to have stopped,” Seung Kwan said hoarsely. “Or so I hope.”

Min Gyu felt a painful twitching around the pressed wound on his head and grimaced. Then he blew a sigh, from which his irritation could be audibly heard. “Hyung.” He looked at Won Woo, a frown creasing his forehead. “What’s happening? Why is it so quiet outside? Where’s the rescue?”

“Sunbaenim, nobody is going to save us now.”

The hopeless, distressed voice came from behind Won Woo.

“... everyone dies…” Someone else continued. “We’re going to die… sooner or later...”

Min Gyu held his breath for a moment and unconsciously pulled down his hand, leaving the wound on his head untended as he looked at them. One by one. And from the way their expressions darkened as if all remaining pieces of blissful memories had been out of their heads, he knew by intuition where everything would go from then on. A chill ran down his spine. Not because of an unknown fear, but rather because these people no longer had faith—which could be as deadly and contagious as whatever disease that turned humans into ferocious living corpses out there.

“What should we do now? Should we just wait to die here?” A mournful smirk passed over the speaker’s face. “Or just let those creatures eat us alive? There’s really no difference now.”

And then there was silence. Long and suffocating.

Min Gyu looked back at Won Woo. After what felt like an eternity, and a heavy intake of breath, Won Woo told him what had actually happened when he was knocked unconscious. About the rescue helicopter. About the collision. About all hopes that had been shredded by such a cruel fate. Min Gyu’s heart sank within him, the shock conjuring up all vivid images of his beloved ones who were still waiting for him at home. He began to tremble as violent thoughts and feelings were piling up inside him, his hands curling into tight fists.

‘I can’t die here!’ Echoes of the inner voice reverberated through Min Gyu’s head, his mouth twitching in silenced exasperation. ‘I won’t die! Not now!’

Min Gyu disregarded the alarming pain rushing through his body and rose to his feet all of a sudden, taking Won Woo and Seung Kwan who closely watched him aback. He sullenly stomped towards a hole on the bullet-pierced wall despite Won Woo’s imperative caution, and through the gaping hole, he could only see a disheartening glimpse of the outside world. Thick gray smoke spiraled up in the air. And there were still many zombies roaming around the rooftop.

“Mom… Dad…”

To everyone’s surprise, someone suddenly cried so dramatically, dragging down the already cheerless mood of the group to the depth of inconsolable despair with his heart-rending words.

“Mom, Dad… I’m sorry for talking back to you last night… I’m very sorry... I should’ve never hung up the call…”

The uncontrollable burst of regret ripped the hearts of those who heard him. So relatable that they, one by one, started to burst into tears languishing over their own unresolved regrets that they would carry to death.

Uselessly wishing they could turn back time.

“Mom… Dad... are you two somehow… still alive?” Heavy beads of grief dripped down onto the phone screen that illuminated his face. His thumb kept shakingly pressing on a certain button despite the No Service and Signal indicator displayed on the device. “Please answer my call… Mom… Dad… please tell me you’re alive...”

“Shut the up!” Min Gyu suddenly bellowed across the room, his face red with rage. If Won Woo didn’t immediately stand up and hold him back, he would have unthinkingly punched the poor guy. “Stop crying! If you wish to see your parents again, then do ing something! Rise and fight!”

“Min Gyu!” Won Woo shouted. “Get a hold of yourself!”

“Min Gyu hyung!” Seung Kwan also tried to distract him from his anger.

Normally, the six-foot-something well-built young man was fairly mild-tempered and rarely blew up in unrestrained fits of fury. But once reaching his limit, he could really be difficult to deal with. Now Won Woo couldn’t even talk some sense into him. He couldn’t stop the taller one from picking up the bloody axe and attempting to get rid of the pile of furniture that blocked the door by himself. Everyone gasped, horror-struck at the sight of his impulsive action. And if there was anything that eventually eased the stifling knots in their chests, it was the great dizziness that made Min Gyu instantly lose his balance and drop the axe again.

“As expected. How impressive our hero is.”

An intentional sarcasm—which was like a jab to Min Gyu’s mentality—suddenly seized his attention.

“That damn thing did hit you pretty hard,” Jeong Han said with a glint of mockery in his eyes. “But it seems like your skull is thicker and harder. So is your stubbornness, you lucky motherer.”

Swallowing a moan down his throat, Min Gyu lifted his gaze and met the blonde-haired guy’s contemptuous eyes. A short smirk flashed across his agonized face. “Thanks for your concern, hyung,” he replied, also sarcastically.

“To be honest, of all unlucky people trapped here, you’re the last person I’ll feel concerned about.”

There was, unmistakably, venom in those words.

And it wasn’t only Min Gyu who could sense the sudden aura of hostility that surrounded the blonde-haired guy.

“When Jin Joo told me that you’ve taken all the luck of her life...” Jeong Han peeled his eyes away from Min Gyu’s now confused face. His expression visibly shifted from one of ridicule to gloom as a recollection of the mentioned girl weighed his mind. “I think I kinda get it now.”

Min Gyu fell silent, a frown passing like a shadow over his brow.

“Min Gyu-ya. Have you ever thought about it? What if it’s true?”

“What are you talking about, hyung?” Min Gyu replied, sensing the older guy’s deliberate provocation.

“People say that any woman you sleep with will be cursed with terrible luck.”

“Jeong Han hyung,” Won Woo interfered, triggered by the statement he had just heard. In utter disbelief and a protective mode, he asked, “Are we really going to waste our time arguing about some foolish nonsense now? Here?”

“Kim Min Gyu.” Jeong Han picked up his words again, turning a deaf ear to the disapproval in Won Woo’s question, his tone accusing. “Do you know that ever since the day you got her into bed with you, misfortune has been following her around like a wicked ghost?”

The revelation was too sudden—too difficult to digest and believe—hitting everyone’s conscious mind severely like a bullet train.

Min Gyu froze, as if his soul had just evaporated out of his mortal body.

“And even after that, you do have the audacity to treat her like .”

The place they were sealed in was half-ruined. And stuffy. But Jeong Han’s cold remark was so strong that it felt like the temperature had dropped to the lowest degree.

“Of course I didn’t trust the rumor because I trusted you more. I had ing trusted Jin Joo to you.” The blonde-haired guy sighed. “And that was a big mistake.” He stared into space and his dry lips smiled in a way that obviously suggested the opposite of amusement. “Kim Min Gyu. If I knew that you’d only betray her in the end, I’d never let you get close to her.”

“Jeong Han hyung, you must be wrong.” Won Woo blurted out. “Min Gyu isn’t such a low-minded person. I know him.”

Jeong Han rolled his eyes with a light scornful laugh.

Won Woo shifted his gaze back to Min Gyu, unease squirming in his chest. But the younger guy continued to clam up, his lips pressed into a straight line.

“Min Gyu hyung,” Seung Kwan called him. The tense, taut look on his face showed that he was torn between not wanting to believe what he heard and being reminded of the unsettling fact that even a good person had a dark side too. “Is that all true?” he asked the senior he admired with a sad voice. “That unforgivable thing… did you, really, do that to her?”

Min Gyu just looked at him, saying nothing—which dismayed the waiting questioner even more.

“Min Gyu hyung.” A note of rising anger could be heard in the shakiness of Seung Kwan’s voice. “Is that all true?”

After an unbroken period of chaotic silence, Min Gyu then let out a long sigh and shook his head with a blatant expression of utter disbelief mixed with disgust. He turned his eyes to Won Woo who stayed silent but stared at him questioningly. He was aware of how shocked, how conflicted Won Woo was—given the fact that he never kept a secret from the older guy. But he wouldn’t give Won Woo any explanation. He didn’t need to. Because he knew he wasn’t in the wrong.

In the end, Min Gyu couldn’t help but force himself to gather his wits, realizing that nobody knew the total absurdity of Jeong Han’s accusations but him.

“How entertaining.” Min Gyu laughed shortly, looking back at Jeong Han with defiant eyes. “That little could have effortlessly swept all the awards for her incredible acting skills, don’t you think?”

Upon hearing the insulting words, Jeong Han instantly looked daggers at the younger guy. “Kim Min Gyu,” he said through clenched teeth. “Watch your ing mouth.”

A sneering smile lifted the corners of Min Gyu’s lips. “No wonder you’ve been acting strangely toward me, hyung. So this is the reason.”

Jeong Han remained quiet, his eyes ablaze with vengeful fire.

But unfazedly, unapologetically, Min Gyu told him again, “Jin Joo… that little has lied to you, hyung.”

“Min Gyu! Jeong Han hyung! Stop this already!” Won Woo literally threw himself between them, both arms stretched out to separate them, sensing the resentment that would turn into something physical. “We can’t—”

A long, ear-splitting sound of a whistle suddenly disrupted the heated situation.

And it came from somewhere near.

Both Seung Kwan and Won Woo immediately froze, looking at each other knowingly, but too afraid to make assumptions. When the shrill sound was heard again, it was getting nearer, causing everyone to gasp in surprise. At the same time, the growls of the man-eating monsters were getting louder, but nobody could tell what was exactly happening outside.

Also, the young policeman had unnoticedly, slowly, regained his consciousness.

“Mine…” Seung Cheol whispered audibly, opening his eyes. “... my whistle…”

“Jeong Han sunbae!” Seung Kwan raised his voice tremblingly, pointing his index finger at the uniformed man beside him. “He’s waking up!”

Much to their horror, again, a series of gunshots were heard outside. And this time, they were almost certain that the echoing noise of the non-stop gunfire originated from the corridor. They could hear screamings and dialogues, which could only be made by living human beings. Those voices—male and female voices—were blended distinctly with the furious groans and grunts of the zombies. Then, there was a terrifying sound of the metal door that gave access to the rooftop of Section C4 building being pushed if not kicked open. Hurried footsteps soon made the rooftop floor shake, and a moment later, more gunshots exploded outside the storage room, aimed at the undead.

Then, the ear-piercing sounds of gunfire disappeared. So did the inhuman growls and grunts. After a moment of intense silence, what was clearly heard next was someone speaking, anxiously asking if everyone was alright. And at that very instant, those trapped inside the storage room knew for certain that they were not the only survivors.

“Shua...”

Jeong Han immediately sat up straight as soon as his brain processed the familiar voice he had just heard, a mixture of pain and disbelief displayed on his pallid and blood-stained face. He quietened and listened. The lower periphery of his eyes reddened from tears he fought back. When the same voice was heard again followed by other responding voices, he realized he wasn’t hallucinating.

“... Joshua?” The blonde-haired guy quickly rose to his feet but then tottered back for a moment. Dizziness shot through his head and suddenly things and people blurred before his eyes. But the violent throbbing in his head couldn’t stop him. He even went against his own logic, rashly got rid of all objects that blocked the only entrance and exit like a lunatic, and then dashed out of the storage room. “Shua-ya!”

The world outside the storage room was beyond horrifying for anyone to see, but that didn’t stop Jeong Han nor did it scare him. Among the macabre piles of corpses, a group of five young adults stood and looked around, fear and confusion seizing them. And when the blonde-haired guy stepped out of the shadow and rushed toward a male figure whom he wouldn’t mistake for somebody else, someone in the new group suddenly screamed and a gun was raised.

“Jeong Han!”

It was sheer luck that another survivor of the new group instantly recognized the blonde-haired guy and knew he wasn’t one of the undead, just a millisecond before the trigger was pulled.

“Shua… you’re alive.” Jeong Han smiled tremulously. “I thought you—”

Jeong Han tearfully stood up facing a dark-haired guy as tall as him, unable to finish his words the moment he was certain that the guy was made of real flesh. And breathing. Not just one of his harrowing hallucinations. He looked into the dark-haired guy’s light brown eyes that still bewitchingly sparkled like wet marbles even in the calamitous circumstance, and next found himself unable to move. That was really Joshua, his bosom friend—one whom he had wrongly believed he could never see again. He forced back a scream into his chest as a tight embrace engulfed his frail body, allowing the warmth he had been yearning for to sweep away all his doubts and bitterness.

Without a word, Jeong Han buried his face on Joshua’s comforting shoulder, his hands desperately clutching at the blood-stained fabric at his back not wanting to let go. Unknown pain racked his body but his desire was like a fierce flood that crushed everything getting in its way. He felt miraculously stronger than whatever that threatened to weaken him inside, hugging the dark-haired guy even more tightly as if his heart depended on his physical presence to beat.

It was really not an illusion, nor was it a ghost.

Although hurt, Joshua was as alive as him.

“Jeong Han.” Joshua looked at the blonde-haired guy with a curious worried look as soon as they parted. “What’s just happened here?”

Jeong Han didn’t immediately respond to the unease-filled question. He let out a shaky breath, seeming as if to calm himself down. He looked around him, at the gut-wrenching pools of blood and countless unnamed corpses that scattered all over the rooftop floor. An uninvited sympathy crept back into his heart as he remembered that these dead bodies once had life, love, hopes, and faith. Near where he stood up was a corpse of an infected child—its red eyes still glaring open, thick and blackened blood gushing out of the corner of its mouth. There were grotesque holes on its decayed face, caused by bullets that had pierced through and blasted half of its small skull.

Immense pity soon invaded Jeong Han although he could vividly recall how merciless he was when killing the undead. His eyes glistened with restrained tears, his heart in pieces. Unable to look a second longer at the poor child’s dead body, he cast his gaze skyward and inhaled deeply. He remained silent for a moment, his fists tightening at his sides. When he was finally ready to tell the truth, he shifted his eyes back to the new group of survivors and then fixed his attention to Joshua. And as he poured the actual tragedy into words, he watched their expressions gradually change from profound perplexity to shock and horror.

At the same time, those inside the storage room fearfully stepped out of the darkness. One by one, finally breathing the air of freedom—for now.

“Ji Soo sunbae.” Min Gyu limped straight toward the dark-haired guy, his brow creasing in a frown of mingled disbelief and worry as he tried to make sense of what he had witnessed. After a short glance at the now quiet corridor behind the metal door, he asked, “Did you all just… come from that corridor?”

Joshua felt his heart skip a beat as he turned his eyes in the direction of a taller younger guy who called him by his birth name. He scanned the seemingly wounded junior from top to bottom, and then was appalled by the bloody axe in the grasp of his left hand. “That’s the only corridor to get here, so yes,” he replied as he looked back into the younger’s inquisitive eyes. His face wore an expression of genuine concern. “Min Gyu, are you alright?”

Min Gyu seemed to have unconsciously ignored that question, his mind occupied by something else. After a while, his frown even deepened. “It was blocked by those undead things, which was why we couldn’t escape this place,” he said. “How did you all manage to get through them alive?”

“Jin Joo found us and led us to this place,” Joshua answered unhesitatingly, much to their surprise. “It seems to me that she knows how to effectively kill them. She gave us these guns too, and—”

“... Jin Joo?”

Joshua shifted his gaze, taken aback by the presence he didn’t expect to see. “Won Woo?”

Won Woo—who had only been quietly and observantly listening to the conversation from quite a distance behind Jeong Han and Min Gyu—was the first one who suddenly interjected Joshua and stepped forward at the mention of that person, wincing against the twisting pain in his ankle. “Ji Soo sunbae, are you talking about Hwang Jin Joo?” He looked at the older guy with a shocked inquiry. “Hwang Jin Joo, one of this year’s scholarship students in the Gifted and Talented Program?” His low voice shook with emotion as though the name had the power to agonize him. Even so, he said it again and again.

Joshua stood rigid, completely perplexed—wondering why Jeong Han and Min Gyu also stared at him with grave surprised eyes now.

“She…” Won Woo paused for a moment to breathe. A multitude of feelings surged through him, confusion and disbelief being the most obvious. But when he took another step toward the dark-haired guy, his eyes glistened with hope. “Hwang Jin Joo is still... alive?”

“If she’s not, how could we be here?” Joshua replied, warily looking at Jeong Han and Min Gyu and then back at Won Woo.

“Please tell me. Once again.” Jeong Han landed his hand on Joshua’s shoulder and gave it a hard squeeze. His unblinking eyes bored into the dark-haired guy in a way that daunted the latter. “Is Hwang Jin Joo still alive?” he asked, his voice wavering.

“She really is,” Joshua confirmed it. With a firm emphasis. And he braced himself for whatever that was about to erupt within Jeong Han the moment his eyes widened with shock. “She fought together with us. In fact, she was the one who killed most of these monsters so we could get here safe and sound.”

“Then where is she now?” Jeong Han finally lost his calm, grabbing both of the dark-haired guy’s arms. “Shua-ya! Tell me where she’s now!”

“I believe she’s picking up more survivors at the moment,” Joshua replied, unfazed by his friend’s aggressive tone of voice. “She told us to quietly hide and wait here until rescue comes.”

“Wait until rescue comes?!” Jeong Han’s angelic face immediately contorted with unamused disbelief. “The world is coming to an end. People are dying everywhere. Who the is going to rescue us?” He cast his gaze skyward and groaned loudly in frustration. “God damn it, this little fool!”

“Hwang Jin Joo… is alive.” Won Woo repeated it for himself to hear as he confronted his own skeptical thoughts, his eyes staring down at the rooftop floor. When he looked back at the dark-haired senior, it was obvious that he wanted his further questions to be answered truthfully. “Ji Soo sunbae, what do you mean by that?” His throat then bobbed as he gulped, his face seeming tense with expectancy. “Alive—as a human?”

“She is.” Joshua frowned in bewilderment. “Is she not?”