A Changed World (3)
Current Time: 6:25 PM.
It wasn’t the hour when the sun would fully set, yet the sky was darker than usual because of the abnormal phenomenon hanging overhead.
“Haa… Haa…”
I hid my body within the dim twilight scattered here and there, curled up like a child playing a pathetic game of hide-and-seek. Tension made my breathing ragged.
Even though I knew I had to stay as quiet as possible, I couldn’t calm the sound of my own breath.
Rustle!
[Creeeeeak…]
The noise of bare feet crushing tiny fragments of concrete and the sound of something scratching at its throat like a beast had caused it.
‘What the hell are they?’
To be honest, I hadn’t gotten a good look at the things swarming near me. No—saying I couldn’t look at them would be more accurate.
Yet even the scraps of information I’d caught were enough to make me realize they could not be called ordinary humans. A visceral wave of disgust kept rolling out from the deepest part of my instincts, and those things were radiating the same hatred toward everything around them.
If I had approached without knowing anything, I would have died before I could even feel regret. That is, if the things giving off such an alien presence were truly zombies.
‘…Real zombies? That doesn’t make any sense.’
Even outside the 21st century, everyone knew that zombies belonged to the unscientific realm of the occult.
In a world where science had become common knowledge, it was hard to believe that the occult—nothing more than superstition—had suddenly appeared. Weren’t all the people who had previously claimed to have awakened some “third eye” or other power eventually exposed as frauds?
A dead person rising again as a monster that craved the flesh and blood of the living: that was the zombie we all knew.
The mechanics behind how a dead body could move didn’t matter right now. At least, not in this moment.
What I needed to focus on was the absolute rule that I must never let them bite me. Whether they were genuine zombies or something close to it came second; I could not afford to dismiss the possibility.
If I based every decision on the classic rule that zombies spread infection through bites, my odds of survival would rise even a little.
[Kieeeeeeek!]
A monstrous shriek suddenly rang out, so close it felt like it was right in front of me.
Tap—tap tap…
The irregular footsteps of a staggering body came as an unwanted bonus.
‘Think.’
Think about how I, Zeta, and all of us could survive.
Don’t let your mind freeze just because your body has gone rigid with fear.
Keep thinking. Analyze the situation. Find a path to life.
‘Think.’
I stared at the thin banner that would reveal everything beyond it with even the faintest light. More precisely, I stared at the zombies that must be waiting on the other side.
One thin banner was all that separated my hiding place from the area where several zombies wandered. The musty stench unique to corpses and the heavy reek of rot vibrated in the air, as if proving that the dead had indeed come back to life.
‘Think…’
Did the zombies loitering here possess sight?
From the glimpse I’d caught, their eyes hadn’t seemed properly focused. Yet they kept whipping their heads around as though they could identify nearby objects. I didn’t know how far their detection range reached, however.
For now, it was safest to assume the worst—that they could see quite far. A single mistake could bring a devastating loss; I knew that truth all too well from my life as an orphan.
Severe thirst and dizziness from constant bleeding were dragging my consciousness under, but I clenched my teeth desperately and held on.
‘Keep thinking…’
Did they possess hearing?
Yes. That much I could say with certainty. After all, they had gathered here because of the noise I made while shoving through the debris.
I didn’t know exactly what level of sound they could detect. They seemed unable to notice falling water droplets or the soft sound of trudging footsteps.
If they could hear and recognize every single footstep, far more zombies would be circling me right now. They would have already discovered my hiding spot.
It seemed best to assume they properly registered noises at the level of something breaking. They reacted to quieter sounds too, but their interest appeared to fade quickly.
If I could see them with my own eyes I would know for sure, but I didn’t want to invite a crisis born of curiosity. So I had no choice but to rely on hearing alone, which meant the information I received was limited.
Did they possess a sense of smell?
‘…They do.’
I kept up the constant internal questions and answers, struggling to hold onto my sanity.
Sniff, sniff—
The sound of something animal-like scenting the air replaced the halted footsteps and began to fill the area. My heart pounded violently at the noise that reminded me of a predator searching for wounded prey.
Drip… drip…
The fresh scent of blood suddenly filled my nose. My gaze dropped downward.
There was a metal pipe embedded in my arm as if it had become part of my body. Bright red streams of blood fell from the torn gaps between skin and muscle.
A fishy metallic smell spread through the heavy air. Praying they wouldn’t catch the scent of my blood, I wrapped my forearm as tightly as I could with spare clothing to staunch the bleeding even a little more.
It was the best I could manage in a situation where I couldn’t pull the pipe out or even attempt to. I knew the action might worsen the wound, but there was nothing else I could do.
“Kk… ugh…!”
Every time the pipe—wedged so tightly between muscle and bone—shifted even slightly, cold sweat poured down like a waterfall, soaking my clothes.
Whiiiing…
The single thread of wind that had once been my hope had now become despair carrying a rotten stench. The stronger the decay the breeze carried, the more zombies were roaming this place. The realization filled me with bitter resentment.
One small mercy was that the blood scent spreading from the surrounding debris seemed to dominate the immediate area. Even though it was mixed with dust, it helped mask my own smell.
Think.
Think.
Think of a way to survive.
[Kieeeee…]
[Grrrrrk…]
Rustle! Crunch—
Number, aggression, intelligence, behavioral patterns, movement speed.
Using the information gathered through hearing and smell, I estimated how many zombies were nearby and how far away they were.
Including overlapping footsteps, there were at least six. It felt strange to count former humans as “creatures” instead of “people,” but this was no time for such useless sentiment.
Extremely high aggression. Even when they bumped into one another I could hear them grow irritated. They didn’t fight to the death, but they definitely growled at each other.
I couldn’t determine their intelligence level yet, nor their behavioral principles.
‘Other than reacting to the smell of blood…’
Even that was uncertain. Every conclusion I was drawing right now was based on the assumption that they were zombies. I hadn’t actually seen them craving blood and flesh with my own eyes.
Movement speed. Could they only walk? Or were they capable of running?
Considering how little time it had taken me to hide among the debris, their speed was clearly not slow.
[Kyaaaaah!]
Bang! Bang bang!
Crack!
The physical strength they could exert with dead bodies was also formidable. I didn’t know how many were striking, but the constant sound of things breaking told me their speed was high.
After all, great strength usually meant greater speed of movement.
Finally, the last thing I had to consider: could I fight them?
This was the most important question. And the one I could answer with the most certainty.
‘…Impossible.’
With vision that kept blurring and only barely refocusing, I looked at Zeta. She still hadn’t woken even after several hours—her injuries must have been worse than I thought.
In our current situation, if the zombies noticed my location I would be finished without managing any real resistance. I would struggle desperately, but the end result of death would remain unchanged.
Simply pulling out the metal pipe, or even touching it, would make me faint instantly. There was no medical staff or equipment to treat the wound. Even if I somehow escaped, I would collapse from blood loss.
[Grrrrk…!]
[Keeeeee…]
Tap—tatatat—
The shrieks sounded like a warning not to even think about coming out. The noisy movements hammered my eardrums without pause.
‘Mother Maria…’
Worry for her and the other orphanage children rose belatedly. There was nothing I could do about it, but I still prayed they would all be safe.
I also hoped the creatures that showed no sign of leaving this area would simply pass by quietly without causing any trouble.