Those Who Tend the Scrub (2)
The water jet slammed into the Ents.
Whoosh!
The Ents, drenched in the sudden torrent, abruptly halted their charge. They began shambling slowly again, milling about aimlessly.
"Wh-what the hell?"
Yang Min-cheol whipped his head around. Someone was gripping a fire hose, blasting water their way.
"What are you doing? Get over here, quick!"
Snapping out of it, Yang Min-cheol scrambled to his feet and bolted toward the figure. Whoever it was had just saved his ass.
"It's gonna blow soon—watch out!"
The rescuer was an elderly man with a striking white beard. The moment he shut off the hose, the soaked Ents exploded in unison.
BOOM!
"Ngh?"
Wood shards flew everywhere. Yang Min-cheol threw up his arms. The old man grabbed his wrist and yanked him close.
"Run! Hurry!"
No time to argue. Yang Min-cheol sprinted after him.
"W-wait! My buddies...!"
"Buddies? Look at those things swarming!" the old man barked.
The Ents had multiplied explosively. In the pitch-black darkness where even the path was barely visible, breaking through seemed impossible.
"This way! Over here!"
The old man's route was unfamiliar to Yang Min-cheol.
"Hurry!"
No choice. Yang Min-cheol kept glancing around for any sign of Go Cheon-su but followed anyway.
Thud.
He led them to an underground bunker hidden in the underbrush, its entrance like a manhole cover flush with the ground.
"Down! Now!"
Yang Min-cheol tumbled in, practically shoved.
"Guh?"
It was a deep drop. As he groaned on the floor, the old man slammed the hatch shut and descended the ladder.
"You okay?"
The old man hurried over.
"No... hurts like hell."
Yang Min-cheol grimaced.
"Better than getting torn apart!"
The old man helped him up and guided him to a bed.
"Where...?"
Yang Min-cheol scanned the room. It was like a bomb shelter—spartan, with just a bed and a few bookshelves. A battery-powered bulb glowed. Cans and snacks were piled high, like someone had looted a convenience store.
"My place. Been prepping it since before the world went to shit."
The old man beamed proudly.
"Saved my skin. But you... where'd you come from? That uniform—got your name on it."
"Oh, this." Yang Min-cheol tugged awkwardly at his clothes. "Yeah, student. Doesn't mean much now."
"You look like you've been through hell."
Bloodstains marred his uniform. Yang Min-cheol winced at the visible scars.
"Yeah, well... outside's no joke."
Suddenly, he shot up.
"Right—Cheon-su hyung! Ngh...!"
The fall's pain lingered. Clutching himself, he slumped back. The old man shouted,
"Hey! Don't push it!"
Ents were everywhere outside anyway. Gripping Yang's shoulder, he said,
"Don't know who you came with, but give it up! Once they start roaming, it's over!"
"I have to save him. He came all this way with me."
"Forget it!"
The old man's face hardened.
"If you're that set, wait till dawn. Safer then!"
"Dawn...?"
"Yeah! Sun's up, they're fine."
He caught his breath, then continued slowly.
"Sunrise roots them in place—they stop moving. Just hold out."
"But..."
"Your friends been through the wringer too, right?"
Yang Min-cheol nodded silently.
"Then they'll hole up till morning. Go find 'em when it's light. Going now's suicide."
Couldn't argue. Yang Min-cheol sighed, relenting.
"...Fine. I'll wait. Too risky now."
"Smart kid."
The old man patted his shoulder and headed to the food stash.
"Hungry? I'll fix you something."
Thump.
A thud from the ceiling hatch.
Thump-thump.
Definitely Ents passing overhead. Yang Min-cheol tensed, standing.
"Grandpa, this okay?"
Sounded like a horde. If they broke in, they were done.
"Relax."
The old man stayed calm.
"They don't know we're here."
"They don't?"
"Figured it out yet? No eyes, no ears. They just wander."
So this was coincidence.
"And crucially, they never go underground."
His confidence was ironclad.
"Nighttime, they stick to the surface. Dawn hits, they root like normal trees and photosynthesize."
"So we're..."
"Absolutely safe."
He returned with a can of peaches and a water bottle.
"Here."
Smiling warmly, he handed them over.
"Eat up—you must be starving."
Incredible kindness. No reason to doubt after the rescue.
But Yang Min-cheol stayed stone-faced.
"What's wrong? Can opener and spoon by the bed."
"Not that."
He sighed.
"Just worried if my group's even alive till morning."
"Don't fret!"
Another smile.
"If you're the last one, I'll look after you. Been lonely solo. Glad you showed."
"..."
No response. The old man opened the can himself and passed it with a spoon.
"Eat. Gotta fuel up now—who knows when next."
True. He'd been too wired to eat properly.
Yang Min-cheol took them.
"Thanks..."
Gulp.
One peach slid down sweetly.
"So good..."
He shoveled them in ravenously.
"Hoho, slow down. Got plenty more peaches."
Gulp-gulp.
He drained the bottle too.
"Ahh."
The old man sighed pityingly.
"Poor kid, suffering so young. Eating like that."
His eyes flicked to Yang's backpack.
"Mind if I ask what's in there?"
"This? Uh..."
It held Go Cheon-su's share—food inside.
"No worries, not stealing. Could top it off if empty."
"Sorry, didn't mean it like that."
Yang Min-cheol flushed. Doubting his savior? Lame.
"So, where you really from? Main gate?"
The old man sat beside him.
"No, back gate."
No harm answering.
"Ah. Train, then...?"
"Yeah. How'd you know?"
"No other way in now. Why not Daejeon Station?"
"Well..."
Yang Min-cheol bullshitted.
"Train broke down. Everyone bailed this way."
"Makes sense. No reason to come here at dusk otherwise."
The old man shook his head.
"How many came in total?"
"Not many. Three including me."
Pity crossed his face.
"Tough odds to survive."
"Yeah..."
"Rest up, at least you made it."
He pulled a mat from behind the shelves and laid it out.
"Prepped for stragglers. I'll take the floor—you get the bed."
"No, I can't..."
"It's fine. Relax now."
He flopped onto the mat and started snoring instantly.
'Impressive...'
Yang Min-cheol's heart still raced, but the old man seemed unfazed—veteran calm.
"Grandpa?"
No response. Yang Min-cheol approached the ladder, peering at the hatch.
Thump-thump.
Ents still prowling. No way out.
'Hyung, you okay?'
Before Go Cheon-su, he'd lost people too—thugs, mostly, but they'd tried saving him.
Go Cheon-su was similar: not quite normal, but looked out for folks.
Made him feel close. Might get punched for saying it, but whatever.
'Hah.'
His eyes drifted to the food drawer.
"..."
He reached for a can. Slick but clean. A few could slip into his bag unnoticed.
He'd offered, but could he trust that?
'No.'
Couldn't steal from his rescuer. He wiped his hands and returned to bed.
Snort—hack!
The old man jolted up.
"Whoops, nodded off quick."
He eyed Yang Min-cheol.
"Not planning to bolt, right?"
"Huh?"
Yang Min-cheol startled. Nothing done, but sweat beaded on his back.
"Just checking. Seriously—don't go out. Too dangerous."
"R-right..."
"I'm worried."
Pointing up,
"You're not the first I brought here. They all grab food and run—then die."
"..."
"Be careful. I'll give you supplies. Don't go alone and die young."
Yang Min-cheol swallowed dryly.
"Got it. I will."
"Good."
The old man lay back, murmuring,
"Sleep well till morning."