33. Reconstruction (3)
The sun was setting. We'd cleared about a third of the large mart. Looked like it'd take another full day.
I called An Su-hyeon on the way back.
"Oppa-aaah..."
"Hey, Su-hyeon. You eat dinner?"
"Dunno-aaah... When're you coming baaack..."
I chuckled. Damn, she's cute.
"Gonna need another day here. Finishing up around the area and rescuing people. Hang in there a bit longer. I'll head back as soon as I can."
"Nooo... I'm gonna cheaaat..."
"Wanna mess around, huh?"
"Eeeeng."
I smirked and said, "Be good. I'll be back tomorrow, so eat something tasty and wait. Got it?"
"Okaaaay..."
"Can't you drop that tone?"
"Whaaat... It's fuuun..."
She wasn't lying. She was hooked on this weird baby talk.
I laughed. "Alright. Rest up, I'll call again. Hanging up."
"Nooo..."
I ended the call. "Jeez."
Grinning to myself, I pocketed the phone and headed back to the motel. Inside, it was bustling. People wandering around with bowls and such?
Sergeant Song Gyu-tae, sitting in the lobby, stood when he saw me.
"Ah, Sung-hoon. You're back?"
"Yeah. Pretty busy, huh? What's going on?"
Song Gyu-tae shook his head. "Nah. Just cooked up a big pot of porridge. Ground in some supplements with it and handing it out to the new arrivals."
"Ah."
Figures they were in rough shape.
Song Gyu-tae added, "Good thing we raided that pharmacy yesterday. Most of 'em are malnourished. Some mild, some severe, from what they say. I'm no doctor, so hard to tell just by looking."
"Any doctors here?"
He shook his head. "None in our group. But one of the new rescues is an OB-GYN from around here."
An OB-GYN? A surgeon or ER doc would've been gold right now.
Song Gyu-tae said, "That lady might not make it, though. She's in the worst shape."
"Really?"
"Yeah."
Hmm... Kim Dae-wi mentioned yesterday—people dropping like flies these days.
I've killed so many and seen even more dead, it barely fazes me anymore. Just another person gone.
"Got it. I'm gonna rest."
"Sure, take it easy."
In my room on the first floor, fresh clothes lay on the bed. Chief of Staff must've dropped them off. Jeans and a white tee.
I eyed them, then hit the bathroom. After washing up, I wiped down my lifting belt with a damp towel when the doorbell rang.
Who? Opened it—Captain Park Dae-wi and Captain Kim Dae-wi. Beers in hand. Must've grabbed some while raiding the convenience store.
"Sung-hoon. Drink?"
Kim Dae-wi held out a can, condensation beading on it. Ice cold, no doubt.
I bit my lower lip. A grin tugged at my mouth. "Come in."
The captains glanced at my blood-soaked clothes crumpled by the bathroom floor and stepped inside. They'd brought beer and shrimp crackers.
"Thanks to you, things have improved a ton these past few days. Thought we'd do a modest welcome. Here."
"Thanks."
We sat on the floor, cracked open the cans. Pssht. White foam bubbled up. I pressed it to my lips quick, gulping the cool fizz and crisp beer. Whole body chilled out.
"Hah. Hits the spot. Been a while since I drank."
The captains chugged theirs, eyes squeezing shut. Their faces said it all—booze lovers. Holding back for this one drink with me.
Beer cans instead of soju? Probably to avoid getting too hammered with ops ongoing. Exactly three cans confirmed it.
"So, Sung-hoon, what'd you do before? Special Forces captain and guys say your sword work's insane. Even good with a bow."
Ugh. Explaining this is always awkward.
I just smiled. "Ah, been into martial arts since I was a kid."
"Martial arts. Figured you liked working out."
"Yeah."
Total lie. My joy was sim games and turn-based strategy at home.
I smiled and asked, "How'd you two link up?"
Kim Dae-wi swigged his beer. "Ahh. Me? Originally from Jeju."
"Jeju?"
He nodded. "Jeju. Not born there, but... long story."
Hmm. Sounded like he wanted me to ask.
Three guys cracking shrimp crackers and beers—skipping chit-chat for what? Gloomy end-times body counts?
I chuckled. "Plenty of time. Till midnight."
"Heading out at midnight?"
"Yeah. Gotta wipe that mart clean. Probably tomorrow afternoon."
Silent Park Dae-wi turned serious. "Aren't they dangerous? Heard the mart's crawling."
I nodded slowly. "Very. Stay away unless you're ready. Not just there—all the shops."
"...Impressive. Tackling that..."
Park Dae-wi's voice was low and resonant. Could pass for an opera singer.
I just smiled, chugged more beer. Refreshing.
"You two—no families?"
...Shit. Dumb question. Lone middle-aged guys in this mess? Obvious.
Kim Dae-wi gave a wry smile. "Wife's gone."
"...Sorry."
"Nah."
He smiled. "Before this shit hit. Long time ago. Breast cancer."
Ahh. Kinda a relief. Not that her dying was good, but...
Kim Dae-wi downed his beer. "Flew helos in the army. Met her back then. Married, waiting on promotion—bam, cancer."
He shook his head bitterly. "Surgery took it all. She got depressed. Talked about retiring to Jeju together. Dropped everything and went. Lived well a few years."
Come to think of it, ring on his left hand.
"Recurred years later. Chemo, then gone. Only skill's flying helos, tried that line—couldn't. Kept thinking of her. Ended up day labor on tangerine farms, scraping by."
I nodded.
"Last month, dad passed from old age. Funeral, heading back to Jeju... here we are."
He chuckled. "Met the president, back to captain. Army's gone—who cares? But they call me Captain Kim. Min-jun or big bro Min-jun's fine. Casual's good."
"Got it."
Hmm. Everyone here's got their stories.
I glanced at Park Dae-wi. Kim Dae-wi grinned. "This guy's tight-lipped. Just know he came back like me."
I nodded, raised my beer. Don't pry if they don't wanna talk.
"So, Sung-hoon, how'd you survive the outbreak? Lots of people there, right? Spill."
I smiled, recounted it all. Haksukjip, inline skaters, cockroaches, zombie wave crashing in.
Kim and Park Dae-wi ate up the cockroach bits, reacting with disbelief and absurdity.
We bullshitted for hours over beers. Rare downtime. Comfortable.
* * *
Midnight, poured everything into one more push. Half the mart horde down. Level 20. Strength 65. Slow. But growing.
Back at the motel, a tall beauty lounged on the lobby sofa, sipping Powerade. Special Forces captain's sister, Seong Ga-yeon. Ankle wrapped tight, leg stretched out.
"Ah, Sung-hoon. Back?"
No flinch at my dripping blood. First met covered in it.
I smirked, leaned on the wall. Blood smear on her shoulder inevitable, but footprints already tracking it—whatever.
"What're you doing here? Can't sleep?"
Wiped hands on pants, pulled smokes and lighter from pocket.
Ga-yeon smirked. "Slept all day—can't now. Gimme one?"
"You smoke?"
"Army habit. Pick up all the good stuff there, right?"
Fun girl. I laughed, shook a cig loose, offered it. Lit up, deep drag. Tasty. Post-massacre smokes hit different.
"Leg any better?"
"Still hurts. Walkable, though. Painkillers got me loopy."
"Don't trip."
I grinned, nodded inside. Hoo—
"People doing okay? Perking up?"
She nodded. "Yeah. Some improving, some need more time. But motel's getting tight."
Hmm.
She was right. Rescue everyone? One motel? No way.
I puffed. "We'll sort that. Heal that leg first, Ga-yeon. Need you on ops. Can't lay around forever?"
She shot me a playful glare. "To me? That's basically flirting."
This woman? I burst out laughing.