Behind the Iron Door
When the infected weren't nearby, they needed Anna's long-range prowess.
So Jaejeong put her out front.
Now the bastards would drop dead to arrows before they even got close.
"All clear. Come on in."
Anna lowered her bow after scanning every direction, and only then did the group slip out of the emergency exit.
They'd barely taken a few steps when Youngman spotted something and spoke up excitedly.
"Ah, so that's it. That's where all those fuckers went."
The tip of his finger pointed to a quiet—no, once-quiet—outdoor park.
And smack in the middle of the park stood outdoor stairs leading up to ground level.
Yeah, those stairs explained why the underground was so spotless.
Atop the stairs lay a squashed-flat infected, sprawled out.
It couldn't even stretch out an arm toward the group.
It had been trampled to hell.
"Something like this, then. The horde packed the corridors, chased the fireworks noise, smashed through the glass, and climbed those stairs."
Youngman crossed his arms and kept reasoning it out.
"Couldn't climb properly, so they trampled each other. That pulped mess up there is the proof... Disgusting."
"Should've made you the detective instead of me, old man."
Beom-sik muttered as he brushed past Jaejeong.
Everyone nodded in agreement while rounding the corner, where a row of bank branches came into view.
Abandoned bags and wallets littered the spaces in front of the ATMs.
The dim corridor, splattered with bloodstains like spilled paint and strewn with lost belongings, gave off an eerie vibe.
The pouring rain drumming down was just icing on the cake.
"Urk!"
Lee Hyun-soo, who'd been tagging along with the group, bolted to a corner and started hurling his guts out.
Kim Chaemin, barely holding it together, soon followed suit and dashed to another corner.
For them, it was the first glimpse of horrors beyond imagination.
Jaejeong ignored it all and planted himself in front of an ATM.
He shook his head at how numb he'd grown to the stench in just a few days.
Chunks of flesh and guts rolling on the floor didn't even turn his stomach anymore.
He was still stressed as hell, but the shock wasn't what it used to be.
And it wasn't just him.
Beom-sik chugged half a bottle of water rolling on the floor, and Anna swept her bow across the bank interior—same deal.
Everyone but one man: Youngman.
Youngman hadn't batted an eye at this shitshow from the start.
Watching his unflinching, emotionless resolve, you could at least imagine the brutal wars he'd survived.
"Banks are clean inside."
Anna emerged from searching the bank and reported back.
By then, Beom-sik and Youngman had already pushed way ahead, past the two puking guys.
"Let's hustle."
"Why so jumpy?"
Anna eyed Jaejeong's rush.
"Me?"
"Yeah. A lot."
"Look at those clouds. Think the underground horde stays put if lightning cracks? If they hear it and come pouring back, we're canned food down here forever."
"That wouldn't be so b—"
"Shh!"
Jaejeong brushed past Anna and approached a thick steel door next to the bank.
He hadn't misheard.
Definite physical impact.
Clunk!
He slowly pressed his ear to it—then the door jolted hard.
Jaejeong leaped back, startled.
But it wasn't one hand shaking the door.
Clunk! Clunk!
Soon the whole damn thing was shuddering.
Followed by a wave of guttural roars.
Infected.
The noise grew fleshier, bulkier, until it sounded like they were right next door, crystal clear.
Anna whispered softly.
"Drawn by the puking?"
"Who knows. Stay quiet and move. If that opens, we're fucked food or not."
The two backed away from the door in silence.
Once enough distance opened up, they bolted after the group like it was rehearsed.
The noise was so loud even the distant group heard it and waited.
Beom-sik asked with a sharpened glare.
"What the hell?"
"Steel door by the bank. Sounds from inside. At least dozens. Quiet now."
Chaemin and Hyun-soo's faces went ghost white at Jaejeong's answer.
Made sense—they hadn't even faced off proper against infected yet.
Soon a multi-plaza with department store signs appeared, flanked by a convenience store and mart.
Jaejeong signaled Youngman and Beom-sik toward the mart.
He left Chaemin and Hyun-soo with Anna and headed into the multi-plaza.
Sledgehammer in one hand—the kind too heavy for most folks with two.
Anything popped out, he'd smash without hesitation.
The store displays were low enough to scan the interior without entering, really.
Still, had to check.
Those fat pillars everywhere, and that changing room in the corner.
Had to eyeball those.
Infected crawled and attacked even hacked in half.
No reaction to noise didn't mean safe.
Some lost their vocal cords.
Couldn't relax till you saw with your own eyes.
Jaejeong darted between displays, sledgehammer gripped tight, ready to swing on anything.
God, let it not be human.
He finished sweeping the multi-plaza quick and stood frozen.
Good—pillars and floor clean.
Except that changing room.
Beast-like breathing. Phlegm rattling. Teeth chattering from beyond the door.
Jaejeong backed up a few steps, raised the sledgehammer in his right hand.
Left on the handle, he held his breath like the world stopped.
Whoosh!
KRAAAK!
Door flew open, source lunged out.
Blackened rotten skin sloughed off in globs onto the uniform.
Name tag said store employee.
Until a few days ago.
The sledgehammer crashed into its skull.
Splat!
Cranium caved, it crumpled.
Dark brains oozed into the changing room.
Jaejeong stared down at the corpse.
Not satisfying. Not relieving.
Was this right?
No answer.
But if he didn't kill, it'd kill him.
That was it.
Reason he could casually pulp heads.
Then—a twang of bowstring from the corridor.
Stragglers left.
Back in the hall, convenience store and mart were cleared.
Group started shopping like clockwork.
Jaejeong from the multi-plaza tossed backpacks by color onto the floor.
Food in carts, but personal stuff too.
Anna snagged a bag first.
Dove into the convenience store, loaded up on feminine products.
Rest crammed with cans and batteries.
Batteries she'd have ignored before.
Days in the dark changed her.
No light, no win against them.
Never.
Chaemin and Hyun-soo dragged carts, swept every edible: water, drinks, kimbap, fruit, burgers—anything digestible.
Expiration dates?
Luxury they couldn't afford.
Grab first, check later.
Beom-sik and Youngman needed extra carts.
Hyun-soo found the magic "Staff Only" door to the warehouse.
Behind it: stockpiled cans and drinks piled high.
By the time the group regrouped in the corridor, carts loaded with everything—food, drinks, socks, underwear, towels, tees, laser pointers, poker cards.
Hell, wish-list stuff too.
"Too much."
Beom-sik grimaced.
Anna nodded agreement.
"Just one meal, then bounce? Who's eating all this?"
"Don't sweat it. Few of us—we'll polish it off. Leaving it rots anyway."
Jaejeong shoved two carts at once.
Way too much for one or two meals.
But hoard now in this mess.
Rot's rot anywhere, like he said.
Whoever stayed would snag leftovers.
Meanwhile, Youngman poked at convenience store bentos from behind.
"Supermarkets sell bentos now? These any good?"
"Hell yeah! My staple! Cheap, right portions. Pair with cup ramen, good for a day."
Hyun-soo, silent till now, lit up red-faced.
Internet streamer life: convenience store chow only.
But his voice—was it louder than needed?
Everyone loosened up shopping.
Youngman shook his head.
"Doubt it. Preservative bricks. Imagine home-cooking that, sticking in a shitty fridge—spoils fast."
"Bet you'd eat those words after one bite."
"Hm..."
Closest to proper rice dish in the haul: bentos.
They'd eat 'em back home.
No—wait, home?
Youngman chuckled inwardly at fretting nutrition in a world where death lurked tomorrow.
Or just dad habit from raising kids.
Group about to roll out.
Screeech!
Bang!
Jaejeong up front froze mid-push.
A noise.
Far off.
Dozens of meters at least.
Problem: from the direction they needed to go.
First sound: door opening.
Second: door slamming into something.
Then...?
Thud-thud-thud! Tat-tat!
Footsteps!
Sparks flew in Jaejeong's head.
Eyes met Anna's.
The steel door by the bank!
Shit—Anna whipped her cart first.
No orders needed, she shoved it back with a grunt.
"Back! We gotta turn back!"
Jaejeong wheeled his cart, bellowing near a scream.
Everyone startled, reversing carts—Hyun-soo struggled, overwhelmed.
And...
KRAAAK! Grraaah!
Black shapes poured from the dim corridor's end.
Hyun-soo, glancing back, locked eyes—legs gave out.
Never imagined it.
Monsters straight from movies, this close, faces that stopped hearts, swarming.
"Ditch the carts!"
Jaejeong yelled mid-sprint-push, clocking the scene.
Ahead, Beom-sik had already dumped his and scanned around.
Infected speed vs. group distance: run as-is, dead meat.
Stopping? No fix.
But blocked path ahead?
Dead end?
No.
Can't.
Hyun-soo visible over Jaejeong's sprinting shoulder.
Distance to Hyun-soo and horde.
Dump carts now and still needed a hidey-hole to survive.
Beom-sik's view caught a restaurant.
Highway rest-stop style: line for orders, ticket in hand, wait at table.
Blinds down, but sure.
But...
Clunk! Clunk!
Door locked.
Shook like mad—nothing.
Fuck, turning to bail—faint noise inside.
Wait, voices?
"People in there? Open up! Now!"
No dice.
Beom-sik's pleas turned profane.
"Won't open? You fucking prick! I die, you're first eaten! Shit!"
His cool eyes bloodshot red.