RE: Survival - Chapter 4

Yohan spoke calmly as he drank from the beverages and ate the energy bars he had taken from the convenience store.

The two resumed their brisk walk, and before long, they encountered the anticipated horde of zombies.

Unfortunately, it happened right before they were to exit through the Bucheon Interchange. A scene unfolded in which many zombies were feasting on multiple people. Yohan’s sharp eyes quickly assessed the situation. A metropolitan bus stood at the front, surrounded by cars that had crashed from different directions.

The starting point was most likely the metropolitan bus.

Someone infected must have been on that bus, and before long, every passenger inside was infected. The zombies crawling out of the bus caused a chain of collisions involving other cars.

The open front of the bus, with no other vehicles in front of it, confirmed this sequence of events.

It seemed people had been infected as they got out to check the traffic jam, and the same cycle kept repeating—more cars getting stuck, more people becoming infected.

Yohan fastened the buttons on his leather gloves and adjusted his jacket, checking for any gaps in his clothing. He slid his fingers into the handle of his 60-centimeter knife and flexed his hands. It was a habitual warm-up, preparing for the start of combat.

There were fewer than 400 zombies, even at a rough estimate. To clear a path, they wouldn’t need to take down more than 20. Though their numbers could be dangerous if concentrated, the zombies were spread out, with several distractions in various places. This made the situation manageable.

‘There’s room to maneuver.’

Sticking as close as possible to the shoulder of the road, Yohan spat on the ground, then stepped toward the nearest zombie.

*Thunk!* The knife pierced through the zombie’s pupil. Yohan swiftly stepped back, watching as the zombie clattered its teeth in the air, staggered, and then collapsed.

*Gack, grraaah!*

Hearing a guttural groan to his side, Yohan didn’t even glance. Instead, he swung his foot in a low arc, tripping the zombie. As it fell, he stabbed his knife into its temple and yanked it out in one smooth motion.

The thick, dark blood splattered through the air.

Yohan’s left foot shifted forward, his right foot back—his stance light, like a boxer. He pushed the chest of an approaching zombie, then quickly jabbed it in a vulnerable spot with the precision of a bee sting.

It was a flawless series of actions, executed without an ounce of wasted movement.

Jung-mi struggled just to keep up with him.

She was gasping for breath, even though all she was doing was following behind him.

Yohan moved with such fluidity, smashing through zombies blocking their path as if he were performing a dance. He never attacked a zombie twice. One strike per enemy. Watching him in action left her awestruck.

It was as if Yohan had been born to kill zombies.

“Ahhh!”

As she trailed behind him, Jung-mi suddenly felt a cold grip on her ankle.

A fallen zombie had grabbed her leg.

Jung-mi screamed as she fell to the ground. The zombie crawled a few steps closer, sinking its teeth into her thigh.

“Aaah! Yohan!”

She desperately called out to him. Yohan, who had been ahead, turned his head and locked eyes with her.

Help me.

Her eyes conveyed her plea in that brief moment.

But Yohan’s expression remained unchanged. He turned back and continued forward, crushing another zombie in his path. His cold, unfeeling back loomed in the distance.

‘I won’t stop for you if you can’t keep up. And I won’t help you if you get into danger.’

His words from earlier flashed vividly in her mind.

‘He meant it.’

It hadn’t been an idle threat. Tears welled up in Jung-mi’s eyes—whether from sorrow or fear, she couldn’t tell.

The zombie on her thigh continued gnashing its teeth, the pain in the bitten area intensifying.

“Get off me, you bastard!”

With a curse, Jung-mi swung the knife in her hand at the zombie’s head.

“Ahh!”

She put all her strength into the swing, but it felt as if she had struck a rock—the jarring impact left her hand numb.

*Graaah!*

The zombie, irritated by her thick jeans, began crawling further up her body, aiming for any exposed skin to bite.

Jung-mi screamed again and swung her knife wildly.

*Thwack!* The blade accidentally lodged into the side of the zombie’s head. Even with the knife stuck in its skull, the zombie continued clacking its teeth.

The grotesque sensation was beyond words. Something hot and sticky poured onto her face as the zombie’s movements finally ceased.

Panting heavily, Jung-mi shoved the corpse aside and crawled toward the shoulder of the road.

*Bleeeh—*

She vomited everything she had eaten earlier. Wiping her eyes and mouth, she looked around for Yohan. He was already far ahead.

She had to catch up.

If she let the distance grow any more, she knew she wouldn’t survive alone in this place.

Picking up her discarded slipper, Jung-mi sprinted toward Yohan.

When she reached him, Yohan silently handed her a wet wipe from his bag. She accepted it with a slightly irritated expression.

“Were you bitten?”

“I-I don’t know.”

“Any pain?”

“My thigh…”

Yohan’s expression darkened. There was no blood soaking through her jeans, but he had to check for wounds to be sure.

“Take them off.”

“What?”

Her face turned bright red.

“There’s no time to be embarrassed. If you’re infected, you’ll be a threat to yourself and others.”

The subtle hostility in his gaze gave her a sense of urgency—if she didn’t comply, he might attack her on the spot.

Biting her lip, Jung-mi reluctantly lowered her jeans. Yohan carefully inspected the area around her thigh. There were teeth marks but no bleeding, likely thanks to the thickness of her jeans.

Still feeling humiliated, she pulled her pants back up.

“Do you resent me?”

“….”

She didn’t answer.

It would be a lie to say she wasn’t hurt. He could have saved her, but he had chosen not to.

But it was also true that Yohan had warned her from the beginning that he wouldn’t help her. Jung-mi wasn’t even sure what she was feeling anymore.

“You did well.”

His words made her look as though she might burst into tears.

“Not wetting yourself is impressive enough. It’s always hardest the first time, but it gets easier from here.”

Yohan chuckled lightly. In a way, she had successfully taken her first step toward survival. Leaving her to her thoughts, Yohan resumed walking.

After clearing through the zombies, the journey became more relaxed.

This area didn’t seem to be affected by the spread of infection.

‘This is where we part ways.’

He needed to shake her off. Once the infection spread enough to separate the survivors from the dead, stability would come. Only then would it be time to form alliances, but now wasn’t the right time.

To Yohan, Jung-mi was just ‘baggage’ for now.

Oblivious to his thoughts, Jung-mi kept asking questions about zombies and the situation, though most of her inquiries were met with vague responses.

“Jung-mi, this is where we say goodbye.”

“Huh?”

“I told you, we can’t stick together. Luckily, it seems safe from here, so you’ll be fine on your own. Stay safe.”

“How could you…”

Her words trailed off before she could finish her thought—how could he be so heartless?

“Where exactly are you headed in Incheon?”

“I need to get to Guwol-dong.”

That’s a long way, Yohan thought to himself.

“Do you have anyone waiting for you?”

“My parents and little sister.”

“You have people to protect.”

“And you, Yohan…”

“As you already know.”

Everyone on their team knew Yohan’s story. He had once confided in a teammate during a drunken night, only for it to become gossip.

His parents had divorced when he was young, and with no extended family, he had grown up with the help of a pastor.

Neither parent had sought him out after remarrying, and he had never tried to find them either.

He had never resented them. In hindsight, not having anything to protect had increased his odds of survival.

“Having something to protect only lowers your chances.”

“This is goodbye, then. I have somewhere else to go. Stay safe.”

“Yohan…”

“Yes?”

“Could you tell me where you’re headed? In case I find my family, could we join you…”

“No.”

“….”

His firm response left her speechless. She gave a small shake of her head.

“You’re really stubborn.”

Giving out the location of a shelter was the height of stupidity. It was something Yohan knew he needed to make clear.

“If we meet again by chance, surviving together… that much should be fine, right?”

Yohan paused before nodding, offering her a small, insincere kindness—just enough to ease his guilt for leaving her behind.

“If you find a place with people or supplies, don’t tell anyone or write it down.”

“Huh?”

“Just listen. It’ll save your life. And if the group you join gets too big, leave immediately.”

Yohan continued, hoping his advice might help her someday.

“When too many people gather in one place, a zombie wave will come.”

A zombie wave—hordes of zombies drawn to one location—was an inevitable phenomenon.

“If the group grows too large and isn’t strong enough, get out.”

There were unwritten rules to surviving this apocalypse, rules learned through experience, not intuition. These were principles you wouldn’t understand just by knowing the basics about zombies. They were only learned through hardship, through losing camps and comrades repeatedly.

The first and most important rule for survival:

A zombie wave will always strike locations where large groups stay for extended periods.

When people gathered in one place, wandering zombies would inevitably cluster there—this was the zombie wave.

If a camp grew too large, countless waves of zombies would descend upon it. That’s why Yohan had limited the maximum size of any camp he led to 20 people. Additionally, at least half of the group had to be combat-ready.

No solid reason existed for the 20-person limit. It was a rule formed through experience. Of the camps that failed to follow this rule, almost none lasted beyond a month.

Yohan chose not to elaborate further.

He simply watched her walk away, her steps steady.

—

At the center of the small town of Gachiwool, a part-time convenience store clerk was watching the news with a grim expression.

The news on every channel was dire, filled only with urgent bulletins.

Yohan leaned toward the clerk and whispered, “I don’t think now’s the time to stay here. Shouldn’t you head home?”

“Uh… what’s it like outside?”

“It seems okay for now, but the streets are crowded and chaotic. If you don’t leave soon…”

Yohan deliberately let his sentence trail off, stoking the clerk’s anxiety. His bloodstained clothes only heightened the tension.

After fidgeting nervously for a moment, the clerk bit his lip, lifted the counter gate, and began changing out of his uniform. As soon as the clerk disappeared from sight, Yohan pulled out a garbage bag and began stuffing it with supplies.

Food, daily necessities, medicine—anything he could grab. Everything had its use.