Pyeongtaek US Military Base (1)
Helicopter noise was deafening. Even with earplugs in, the roar shook my body like a jackhammer. It felt like a machine gun blasting right next to my head.
"Status."
Level: 94
Main stats: All 100
Remaining: Agility, Intelligence
No one could hear me in this racket anyway. I'd been hunting around SeoRae Village for nearly a month straight, and I was already level 94. All my core stats had hit the cap at 100. Only Agility and Intelligence left.
I'd already decided on the next pick in my head. Intelligence would unlock some unknown specialization that hadn't opened yet, so Agility it was. I dumped 5 points into my 4 Agility, bumping it to 9, then turned my head. The status window vanished from view.
The chopper blazed over mountains, fields, and cities faster than I'd expected. From up here, the ground, rivers, and hills crawled by lazily. But look away for a second, glance back, and the landscape had shifted completely.
Even more surprising? We'd reached the Pyeongtaek US Military Base in under an hour. Was it the straight-line flight path through the sky, or were helicopters just that damn fast? No clue.
Park Dae-wi twisted around from the cockpit and yelled something. What? Couldn't hear a thing. All that reached my ears was the relentless churn of the rotors—a ferocious gale battering my eardrums. The earplugs were damn near useless against the thunderous howl.
Ku-ku-ku-ku!
Park jabbed a finger at the windshield, shouting again. Kim Dae-wi peered out, then waved his hand sharply. The heli tilted sideways with a lurch.
"Ugh, fuck."
What the hell was going on?
Inside the pitching chopper, I craned my neck to look outside. A long runway stretched into view. Massive buildings with white roofs hugged its edge—aviation hangars, probably. And beyond them, a blatantly American street popped up: squat apartment blocks, US-style houses, what looked like a school, and a row of shops. This a military base? Felt more like some random American suburb.
News clips of bases in Afghanistan had Humvees and armored vehicles everywhere. I'd pictured that. But fuck, what was this? A resort with a pool? Where the tanks at?
As I scanned for armor, something else caught my eye—something I'd missed while gawking at the base.
People. Soldiers in uniform. Civilians. Locked in a standoff across the runway. Pointing...
...guns? At each other?
What the fuck? Why were they aiming at one another? No, wait—
They'd stopped gesturing and were staring up at us now?
...My God! Crazy bastards! They're aiming at us from down there!
I bellowed,
"They're gonna shoot us!"
The Special Forces guy next to me gaped and yelled back. Huh? Can't hear shit!
Fuck, speak so I can understand!
Up front, Park Dae-wi was scanning left and right, wrestling the controls. He knew they were targeting us?
Didn't matter why right now. The fact they were?
"Land now! Get us down!"
Yelled at the top of my lungs. Useless.
Kwa-kwa-kwa-kwa!
Fucking maddening. The heli banked hard, slowly pulling away from the base toward open fields. I peered out. No sign of the shooters. For now.
But something else appeared. Fields choked black with zombies, swarming from every direction like someone had dumped a truckload of pepper.
...Zombie wave.
Heading straight for the base. No—now veering. Half toward the base, half straight at us.
"Fuck. We're screwed."
For real. I muttered to myself—unheard by anyone—and rubbed my forehead.
Who the hell knew there'd be people at the base? And civilians too. Sure, survivors, but why the fuck outside? Barricade up like we did!
Whatever dumb standoff they'd been having, the heli had lured a zombie wave right to them. They were as good as dead.
Ruined. Fuck.
The chopper swung around again. I twisted back to eye the cockpit.
What now? Co-pilot Kim Dae-wi shouted. Park gestured in circles.
Couldn't make it out.
Kwa-kwa-kwa-kwa!
Watching the blurring scenery, I got it. Lure the heli-baited zombie wave en masse and dump 'em in the river. Park Dae-wi's signature move.
Pulled out my phone, fired up Google Maps. We were cruising toward Paengseong Bridge. Slow and low, bunching them up to plunge under the span into the water.
So I got a bird's-eye view of the horde tumbling into the river in real time. Like rats fleeing an earthquake into the drink. Pretty much.
Once Park had dunked most of the wave, he eased up altitude and wheeled back toward the runway.
...Gonna land on the runway?
I scanned around quick. Sorry to the guy next to me, but I crushed past to peer out the other window.
...Nothing but runway. Wide open all around. Even a small wave would swarm and trap us.
No other spots to set down nearby. Lakes linked to the river aside, it was all rice paddies.
Insane. This blatantly flat, exposed stretch.
The heli settled gently in the runway's center. Park whipped his head around, yelling, jabbing at the door.
Seong Gyu-hyuk, right in front of me, flung the door open and bailed. The team poured out left and right. I hopped out too.
Hair whipping wildly.
"Krr!"
Prop wash hammered my head like a gale. The Special Forces guys hunched low, hustling away from the bird. I followed, glancing back. Seong Gyu-hyuk stood by the co-pilot side, chatting with Kim Dae-wi.
Fuck, could they even talk? Communicate in this din?
Seong raised a finger, twirled it. The heli began spooling up to lift.
...Wait, lifting off?!
We clustered in an open patch—eight of us, including Seong Ga-yeon—watching the chopper climb slowly skyward.
Seong Gyu-hyuk crouched and dashed over.
Tatata-tatata—
Heli receding. I grabbed his shoulder and roared,
"Where the hell's the heli going?!"
Seong bellowed back,
"Luring nearby zombie wave far off! Then straight return!"
Return? Did I hear right?
Seong yelled again,
"Heli's too blatant a target for waves! Can't lose it! We'll call on retreat after mission! Got it?!"
Call us on retreat...
Standing on the runway, grit still whipping in the prop wash, I watched the heli shrink away. Then glanced sideways.
People emerging. Civilians. Mostly men. Armed.
Seong spotted them and bellowed,
"Cover! Hangar!"
Hangar? The team bolted. I sprinted after.
That big white building from above. The hangar. Shutter sealed tight—probably fighters or attack helos inside.
As we ran, the rotor noise faded fast. Down to microwave popcorn pops now.
Huddled in the hangar's shadow, we caught our breath and eyed each other.
Seong Gyu-hyuk said to me,
"Sung-hoon. You saw from up top? Two factions in standoff."
"Yeah, saw it. What the hell's going on?"
Seong shook his head.
"Dunno. Looked like US military and locals, but gotta find out now."
He sidled to the wall, peeked out, and shouted,
"We're government special forces under the President! Dispatched for special ops! Do not approach armed!"
"Ha!"
A gruff voice snorted from their side.
"Government forces?! Where's the government? Where's the army? Wanna talk, come out!"
Seong yelled,
"Cease hostile action immediately! Lower your weapons! This is a warning!"
"Drop your guns first, and we'll happily lower ours! Come out!"
Seong's face twisted slightly. Teeth bared—visibly pissed.
Hmm. Time for some force, looks like.
I clapped his shoulder. He turned.
"Lemme handle it. Step back a sec."
Seong eyed me questioningly. I glanced at my hands.
Preservation Gloves. And the blazing tattoos crawling from knuckles to shoulders.
Gripped my sword. Drew it.
Shring—
Stepped past Seong, out of the hangar.
Their footsteps halted. At least thirty. About a dozen packing heat. Rest with flails, pickaxes, shovels.
...Ten with guns. Dicey odds.
A burly middle-aged guy with whitening hair stepped forward.
"Hey. Drop what's in your hand. Wanna die?"
I leveled my sword at him.
"Drop your guns."
Wiggled the tip teasingly.
He glanced back, face contorting. Then burst out laughing. The thirty-odd civilians joined in.
He said,
"Last chance. Drop the blade, kid."
I shrugged, smirking.
"No need for chances. Why not just shoot?"
He ducked his head, rifle in hand. Chuckled.
"So many crazies who won't wise up. Fine then."
He raised his head.
"I did warn you."
Muzzle swung my way.
Seong Gyu-hyuk and Seong Ga-yeon shouted in unison,
"Sung-hoon!"
That instant, his barrel spat fire.
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