Hyun-soo's Sacrifice
Puuk!
It was the moment Lee Hyun-soo jammed his dagger into the mouth of the infected grabbing his ankle.
Suddenly, something cold touched his other leg.
Then scorching pain made his eyes bulge wide.
Under the seat across from him, a pitch-black, rotting face was gnawing at his shin.
Thwack!
He hurriedly kicked it with his other foot, but it was already too late.
The pain was so intense he couldn't bear it without grimacing, spreading through his entire body.
Soon his face burned hot too, and feverish heat began rising to his eyes and head.
After dispatching the thing and standing, his pulled-up pant leg fell back down, covering the gaping red wound.
Gritting his teeth against the pain, he scanned his surroundings.
From the looks of it, zombies were swarming outside too.
"Run!"
Han Jaejeong, right behind him, grabbed his collar and yelled as she yanked him along.
He stumbled after her in a daze, but his mind was more chaotic than ever.
If he kept following her like this, he'd mutate soon and bite someone.
Thud!
Pulled between cars, Hyun-soo roughly shook off Jaejeong's hand.
Without giving her a chance to react, he shouldered his rifle and leaped from the train.
"Where the hell you going!"
Instead of answering, Hyun-soo hiked up his pant leg, revealing the wound. Jaejeong fell silent, mouth agape.
He wanted to say a final goodbye, but the horde of zombies made it impossible.
Jaejeong's eyes shook violently.
It had all happened too suddenly for her to process.
How many seconds passed?
With that, Hyun-soo turned his back.
Then, like a madman, he sprinted across the platform, firing his rifle into the air.
Bang! Bang!
The gunshots had the desired effect.
All the infected charging down the car aisle poured out through the doors.
Hyun-soo kept pulling the trigger without pause.
As the shots multiplied, so did the zombies trailing him.
Clunk! Clunk!
Finally, the train's coupler disconnected automatically, and it began to move.
Even as his vision blurred, Hyun-soo running alone on the platform didn't forget to swap magazines.
Bang! Bang-bang! Bang!
The heavy gunfire echoed sadly under the dark sky.
So loud that the train's rumble couldn't draw the zombies' attention.
Gazing at the train receding, leaving its long body behind, Hyun-soo wept silently.
"No! Ah! Nooo!"
Anna's scream of despair from the departing train was the last sound from his comrades that Hyun-soo heard.
Hyun-soo had always thought he'd survived this long thanks to the group, despite having no special abilities.
So he'd vowed that when the time came, he'd repay their kindness—definitely, if the chance arose.
Of course, he didn't want to die.
Like anyone, Hyun-soo had never wished for death.
But in this world...
If it was a death valuable enough to save everyone, he could accept it.
Suddenly, he recalled the KEPCO employee at the power control room, closing the automatic doors and turning back.
Why did he think of that man, who said he wanted to choose his final moment—not living just to survive, but dying as his true self?
Hyun-soo chuckled bitterly.
Looking back, he'd always checked on those around him first.
Maybe that's why.
Even though his end had come without warning, it didn't feel that bad.
After all, this was the end he'd chosen.
Moments later.
A black wave surged past the station, charging toward Hyun-soo on the platform.
The train car was silent.
Anna, her eyes swollen from crying nonstop, sat not in a seat but at the door, face buried in her knees.
Minyoung sat beside her, looking equally dazed, like a mourner at a funeral—clearly in deep shock.
In the car, Squad Leader and Lee Yeon-hui, who had no real connection to Hyun-soo, sat awkwardly alone, while Jaejeong and Youngman stared out the rear window.
Hyun-soo's absence—the bright-faced guy who'd chattered endlessly—hit harder than expected.
Since Anna's outburst of tears, no one in the group had spoken.
Jaejeong's eyes gazing out the window grew distant.
From their first meeting with Hyun-soo to now, the memories played vividly.
He was a good kid.
So warm that "good" was the only word for it.
He loved people, loved being among them.
Jaejeong's chest ached.
Only after surviving the crisis did their comrades' deaths start feeling real.
Regrets and guilt over past decisions flooded in like a tide.
How long ago had he sworn not to dwell on negatives?
Pointless what-ifs tormented him endlessly.
"...My friend."
Maybe because Youngman's face looked especially weary.
Jaejeong didn't respond to the whispered call.
He just kept staring out the window, unable to reply.
"A fine lad he was."
Feeling Youngman's voice tremble, Jaejeong turned.
Youngman was crying.
The wrinkles under his bloodshot eyes quivered pitifully, fighting not to crumple.
He looked like a massive tiger holding its breath, weeping.
Whirlwinds of memories and guilt over failing to protect him tore him apart inside.
What should he do?
No—what was the right way to accept this?
Even he, who'd seen countless deaths over his long life, couldn't stay detached.
Hyun-soo's parting had been that sudden.
No final glance, no last words—just gone, emptily.
"I..."
Youngman paused, steadying his choked breath.
"I should've died in his place. Not that young one, me. It would've been easier for everyone to accept."
Jaejeong said nothing.
He just silently watched Youngman.
What could he say?
Youngman's words echoed Jaejeong's heart, Minyoung's, Anna's.
All he could do was listen quietly.
Wasn't Jaejeong grieving too?
But his tear ducts had dried up long ago.
He'd lost his parents young, sent comrades to their deaths as he grew—forgotten how to cry too early.
That's when it happened, as the two drowned in sorrow.
Squad Leader, sitting mid-car, suddenly stood and started yanking bags from the overhead racks.
Yeon-hui across from him stared, wondering what crazy stunt he was pulling now.
Thud! Thud!
The bags hitting the floor were all hiking backpacks.
Probably from nameless folks who'd boarded for a mountain trip before the outbreak.
Ziiip!
Squad Leader unzipped one with a smug grin.
Soon, snacks tumbled out after his hands: jerky, nuts, crackers, water.
Even soju and paper cups.
How many more did he rummage?
The aisle was strewn with easy munchies.
"Here. Eat up."
Jaejeong and Youngman looked up to see Squad Leader chomping jerky, offering snacks.
But neither reached out.
"Grieving's grieving. You gonna die too? The living gotta keep living. Food'll cheer you up."
He plopped snacks on Youngman's lap and walked off.
Youngman, wiping tears, sighed deeply and picked up jerky.
He'd had no appetite, but maybe this was the guy's way of comforting them.
Youngman handed a strip to Jaejeong.
Jaejeong, who'd just stared blankly, took it and ate.
That way Youngman could eat in peace too.
Back at his seat, Squad Leader tossed something at Yeon-hui—but she timed it perfectly, standing and exiting the car.
Normally awkward, but Squad Leader munched crackers nonchalantly.
Outside, Yeon-hui stopped at the door by the engine room.
Minyoung and Anna sat side by side, lost in grief.
Instead of joining, Yeon-hui pulled down a fold-out seat against the wall and leaned back.
She seemed about to speak.
But neither spared her a glance.
She had nothing particular to say anyway.
Nor the rapport for it.
Yet unexpected words slipped from Yeon-hui's mouth.
"How long you gonna mope?"
Minyoung looked up.
Anna, face still buried, replied.
"Piss off. Not in the mood to fight."
"What, you think I'm itching for a brawl? Picking fights now?"
"Fine, then go."
Even Anna's cold dismissal didn't faze Yeon-hui.
"...What was his name?"
"Why his name?"
This time Minyoung asked.
"He saved our asses. Least remember his name to be grateful."
"Hyun-soo. Lee Hyun-soo."
"Cool name. And that guy at the station earlier?"
Anna shot up at the mention of Number Two, glaring murderously.
"You said you never asked him to die for you. Your words."
"What, you think I'm a psycho? I said that 'cause you blamed me. Think about it. You're tight with these folks. I'm not. You say that shit, what am I supposed to do?"
"...Dunno his name either. They all called him Number Two, so that's all I knew. And you started it."
"Ugh, whatever. Doesn't matter who started. We'd go back to ancient Korea arguing. Fine, I'm the big sis, so I'll apologize first. Sorry."
Anna scowled at the offered hand.
"Not 'cause you're sis. You were just wrong."
"Got it. That's why I'm apologizing."
Yeon-hui met Anna's gaze steadily.
Minyoung watched silently, no urging.
But as Anna reached to clasp hands, she paused, looking up.
"Timing's kinda funny though."
"Timing? What timing?"
"Feels like you're doing this 'cause you're isolated. Everyone's pairing off, you're alone. Hate being stuck with that weirdo, right?"
"Yeah, that's part of it. But apologizing matters, yeah? You weren't even gonna."
Yeon-hui's absurd logic left Anna speechless.
Apologizing deserved respect regardless of intent—what miracle logic was that? Anna couldn't grasp it.
But it wasn't entirely wrong, making refusal awkward.
"So you accept? My apology?"
Yeon-hui glanced at their clasped hands, smiling faintly.
"Yeah. For now."
"Then I can stay?"
"Whatever."
Anna shook her head and buried her face again.
Meanwhile, as the three awkwardly reconciled, things shifted inside too.
Jaejeong, grabbing soju and cups, headed with Youngman to the passage at the car's rear.
This was the train's last space.
Sitting cross-legged, they lined up paper cups oddly and opened the soju.
Wondering what lay ahead, maybe drowning sorrows?
Jaejeong poured into an empty cup first.
Then murmured low.
"Choi PD."
Youngman took the bottle, filling another.
"Kim Chaemin."
Back to Jaejeong.
"Lee Beom-sik."
They alternated, naming the departed as they filled cups.
"Kim Gaon."
"Lee Hyun-soo."
"Those soldier boys still alive, you think?"
Youngman paused pouring, recalling Kim Chan-yeol and Choi Hoon.
"Probably. Safer than us, I'd bet. No more? I'll take over."
Jaejeong gripped the bottle; four faces flashed in his mind.
Cups and soju were plenty.
"Four each?"
Youngman eyed him puzzled; Jaejeong smiled bitterly, reminiscent.
One was for Beom-sik—and the woman on the opposite building from the rooftop.
Hanging precariously by a window, fleeing office zombies—Jaejeong couldn't forget her eyes.
Next, the head chef.
Saved them in the hospital basement, but had to die by their hands.
Then the dog tag owner from the mart office.
The one Jaejeong had silently urged not to feel too wronged.
"Last one's for the doc."
Jaejeong's eyes clouded with regret as he poured.
Youngman looked equally conflicted.
After sitting long, Jaejeong pulled one more cup, filling it.
Glug glug!
Youngman didn't ask who it was for.
Jaejeong's face was too somber.
That final cup was for Han Jaejeong—himself.