Rocket Mart (3)
"......"
"......"
I dumped the contents of the big bag entirely. Since we were heading back to the Northdong Office anyway, his personal essentials weren't needed.
"Uh, Junyoung-ssi."
"Yeah."
Jeong Suhyun eyed the rifle in his hands with a sullen expression.
"Uh, why'd you rip off this strap?"
He was gripping the M16—shoulder strap torn off—with both hands, fiddling with it like something was off. My doing. But it was necessary.
"Makes noise."
"...I see."
Noise mattered. Even if zombies ignored rustling or footsteps, a gun clacking against anything would definitely draw aggro.
"Ammo belt too. Minimize anything that clanks on impact."
That left Jeong Suhyun with just the M16 and ammo bag.
"But shouldn't we grab emergency rations or something?"
"I did."
"Uh..."
Jeong Suhyun looked like he wanted to argue, but I shut it down.
"We're coming back anyway. What, you planning to bail?"
"No, but still, what if something happens..."
"Enough. Stick tight to my back and do what I say."
I'd mapped out the mart sweep. Me tanking up front, him on rifle support from behind.
"Shoot only when I say. And en route, no need for it anyway—keep both hands clear so it doesn't hit anything."
The real hurdle was getting there, but a little care would handle it. Hence the minimal gear for him.
"Ah, okay."
"Let's move."
Luckily, against expectations, Jeong Suhyun followed orders well. Curious what brewed in that head of his, but not curious enough to probe.
'Considerate, maybe.'
He hadn't even questioned heading into a mart full of corpses. Well, we'd learn soon. Backstabber or schemer.
We geared up and slipped out the Northdong Office back door.
"Careful from here. Aggravate the front-gate zombies, and it's a hassle."
"Yes."
'Or just tense.'
I glanced at him, cold sweat beading as distant zombies groaned grrruuuh.
Tense, sure—but no crippling terror.
'Gun helps.'
Though worthless against a horde.
"I'll hop first."
Thud. I cleared the back fence. Practice dulled the noise now.
"Gun here."
"Yep."
Guns clang on asphalt or concrete—had to cross it first. Took it from him on the other side.
"Your turn."
"Got it."
He vaulted, drenched in sweat—clearly no practice.
While he grunted over, I scanned for zombies.
Moments later.
Thud. He made it over.
"Hoo... tough. You always came this way?"
"Yeah."
"Impressive."
Impressive? Him hunkering here on gun faith alone, no powers, took the cake.
"Whatever. Alert now. Route's zombie-free, but contingencies happen."
"Yes."
"I'll cover front and left. Suhyun-ssi, you take right and rear."
"Got it."
Nodding, he followed as we pressed on. Back door to walkway was close, zombies sparse—we hit it easy.
"This place..."
"Quiet till mart."
"Yes."
Curiosity flickered, but he focused.
We blazed down the walkway into the intersection toward Rocket Mart.
Intersection entry. I hunkered behind a car, pulled him beside, pointed ahead, whispered the plan.
"See that upper line? Intersection top road."
"Yeah. No zombies? Weird."
"Yup. Explosion pulled 'em all that way. We'll swing in via there."
Not straight up the intersection, though.
"Route: crouch these parked cars, dash left flowerbed."
"Noise? Or spotted?"
"Nah. Did it last time with crowbar and bag—no issue. Road's got zombies lurking wrecked cars."
"Ah..."
He nodded at my rundown.
"Now."
I vaulted the flowerbed; rifle-toting Suhyun trailed.
Halfway along the fence.
"Junyoung-ssi, two zombies under pink SUV, right below."
"Wait it out."
I dropped low, checked. Yup—legless pair crawling aimlessly, but facing us. Would've clattered.
Splat splat. They drifted apart; I spoke.
"Nice catch. Keep that up."
"Yes."
Praise given, onward.
Rocket Mart main entrance.
'Ten visible.'
Outer lot crawling with zombies. Underground garage bound, but him slowing sprint option.
'Rifle out.'
Maybe not.
Reconsidered. Reach staff door, seat him for sitting shots, Ice Spear his misses.
Floated the hasty plan at Suhyun.
"Suhyun-ssi, plan time."
"Y-Yes?"
"Know Rocket Mart underground? Shopped here plenty."
"Ah, yeah, tons."
"Staff passage open. Run there, wipe zombies around."
"...How?"
"Shut door, rifle 'em."
"Ah..."
Face fell.
Issue?
"Problem?"
"No. I... suck at running."
"Shit."
Major snag. Him with ammo bag and rifle—one stumble, zombie chow.
"Here. Take this; swap gun and bag."
"Ah! Yes."
Switched: him crowbar and my food bag; me rifle and ammo.
'Bags even, but gun's a beast.'
Crowbar light; this fucker heavy. But doable.
"One, two, three—go."
"Yes."
Counted; we bolted entrance-ward.
Parking zombies swarmed.
"Kieeeek!"
Thud-thud-thud.
"Hah! Hah! Behind! Closing!"
"Run!"
"Y-Yes!"
Ice Spear range too far. Underground route dragged it out.
'Why so damn slow.'
His light load pathetic; I paced to him.
Kieeeek!
"Faster!"
"Hurk!"
Torn-shirt zombie lunging mad. Pack ten meters back—fine, but nail this one.
'Fuck it.'
Ice Spear
Boom! Shirt-zombie's torso burst.
Distant ones clocked us. But too slow—we'd beat 'em.
Entrance close; safe bet.
Thud-thud.
"Uwaaak!"
Kwang!
Relaxed—then crash behind.
Zombie trip? His slowness plausible.
Assessed fast.
"Kieeeek!"
"Fuck! Fuuuck!"
Bam! Bam!
Not that. Zombie down. Him smashing leg-biter with crowbar.
Head pulped, but rage-fueled swings kept coming.
Bam! Head? Debatable.
No time for quips. Horde inbound—dillydally, dead.
"What the fuck! Hurry! Now!"
"A-Ah! Yes!"
Eyes cleared; he bolted.
"Kieeeeeeeek!"
"Huuuh! Huuh!"
Dozens glued to his tail. Him gassed, heaving.
"Fucking... Ice Spear!"
Ice Spear
"Kieeeeeeeeeeek!"
Lip bit, loosed it fast.
Boom! Flesh exploded wide.