The Pierside Trap
Everyone slung their bags over their shoulders, preparing to set off again, but Minyoung remained crouched in the corner, head buried in her knees.
One person caught Jaejeong's eye as missing.
"Where's the old man?"
Kang Youngman had vanished while they were packing.
Anna pointed to the stairs.
"He suddenly headed down."
Jaejeong gave Minyoung a long, hard look before hurrying down the stairs himself.
Youngman was on the landing.
"What're you doing here? You didn't grab Minyoung."
Youngman said nothing.
He was grunting as he shoved something out of the building.
Soon, a human-shaped skeleton tumbled into the bushes behind the structure.
It was Chaemin.
All the flesh had been stripped away, leaving only bones, but it was unmistakably Chaemin's shirt and pants.
He'd taken a bullet to the head and died instantly, so even if the infected bit him, he wouldn't get infected.
He was already dead.
That was probably why.
Given their tendency to attack until infection set in, the infected had devoured Chaemin's body completely.
A truly horrific ordeal he never wanted to relive.
Jaejeong watched Youngman's back thoughtfully.
Youngman was disposing of Chaemin's corpse for his daughter's sake.
Minyoung had killed him, but there was no benefit in her seeing the bare bones.
A moment later.
"You all go down first. I'll follow soon."
After a brief moment of silent prayer, Youngman turned and headed upstairs.
Jaejeong nodded wordlessly and descended the stairs.
The open lot was empty, not an ant in sight.
The firecracker arrows were proving their worth every time.
What if Anna hadn't come up with the idea?
They might still be holed up in the hospital.
He turned to look at the hill path.
The infected had taken over all the surrounding hills.
But they showed no reaction.
The group must have been visible from there.
They were definitely weak to visual stimuli.
Or maybe they couldn't see properly at all.
Well, it wasn't that close anyway.
Soon, they descended the stairs one by one.
Beom-sik came down first, followed by Hyun-soo and Anna, then Youngman and Minyoung.
Next to the construction site entrance was a cleared grassy slope leading down.
It connected to the riverside path.
Without a word, they all drew their rifles and followed the path.
Minyoung, stumbling down the uneven terrain, glanced back at the construction site.
Her pace slowed.
Tap tap.
Anna patted her shoulder reassuringly.
Minyoung managed a bitter smile.
She said nothing, but Anna's eyes conveyed comfort.
Soon, a cleared path stretched from the parking lot onward.
The pier was drawing near.
But when had it started? Splashing sounds grew louder and louder.
Everyone reacted to the noise.
"No way... zombies?"
Anna's mouth fell open.
Hundreds of infected were floating down the river.
They bobbed along without sinking.
"They're not sinking."
Youngman remarked in wonder, and Hyun-soo chimed in.
"Yeah. Looks like they're gonna drink the whole river dry... Wait! If they float like that, won't they eventually reach the ocean?"
"Probably."
"Then what if whales or sharks get infected?"
"Hey."
Beom-sik shot him a serious glare.
"If you've got time to worry about that crap, go borrow a boat key or something. Quit yapping."
"But... I was just worried..."
Hyun-soo mumbled, looking dejected.
Maybe because of the construction site incident, Beom-sik's gaze toward Hyun-soo wasn't friendly.
Jaejeong sighed inwardly.
The guy had a habit of exploding if someone rubbed him wrong; he just hoped nothing went down.
"Anyway, it's clear they can't swim. I was curious—good to know. Imagining those freaks doing freestyle would wake me up in a cold sweat."
Youngman said, watching them flail wildly.
The mental image was nightmare fuel.
If the infected could swim—and they didn't die—they'd eventually cross oceans.
The pier sat at the end of a wooden walkway over the water.
It branched into sections lined with boats and yachts, giving off a resort vibe like somewhere overseas.
But there was an unexpected problem.
"Whoa! What the hell? It's cut?"
Hyun-soo, leading the way, froze.
The path over the water was severed.
Several meters across.
No jumping that.
Swim it?
They peered down, but couldn't gauge the depth.
Swimming across seemed dicey.
Not everyone could swim well.
As they hesitated—
"Aigoo, customers at last."
A stranger's voice rang out unexpectedly.
The group reflexively aimed their rifles.
Mid-40s maybe—a man appeared on a yacht with a smug grin.
Of course, on the other side of the gap.
"You the owner here?"
"Well, owner if you wanna call it that. World's gone to shit, but business goes on. Where you headed?"
The man gestured to the docked boats at Youngman's question.
"Yeouido. First, do something about this path."
"Not hard... but you'll need to hand over those weapons first."
"What're you talking about?"
Suspicion colored the group's eyes.
"You're heading to the Yeouido safe zone, right? I'm a civil servant there. Well, environment office at city hall till a few days ago. Anyway, no weapons allowed crossing to Yeouido. That's my job."
"If you're gonna frisk us like this, why block the roads? Doesn't make sense. How many people even know you can boat across from here?"
Beom-sik pressed calmly.
"Ha, kid's got no manners, banmal from the jump..."
The man seemed flustered for a second, then cleared his throat.
"Ahem! Listen up, I'll explain. Roads blocked? Situation was too urgent—had to cut off every possible infected route first. Second question—ah, once we cut 'em all, no way to take in survivors. So we set this up."
"I'm asking how many people even know about this place."
"In this apocalypse, how many survivors you think there are? We gotta account for every possibility? Anyone with that kinda survival smarts can figure out boating, like you lot. Can't turn away survivors either. Key point: if even one weapon shows up late, it's all on me. Damn shitty world. Anyway, government policy."
"Government?"
Youngman brightened.
"Yes, government. What's wrong?"
"Captain Kang was right after all. Alright. Hold on. What do we do?"
Youngman whispered to the group.
"No choice, but it feels off."
"That guy's suspicious as hell."
Hyun-soo and Anna glared at the man.
Jaejeong and Beom-sik wore similar expressions.
What was it? The man seemed somehow off, amateurish.
Maybe not the real owner, but he talked too much.
Like he was chattering to draw attention to himself.
"Just threaten him with the guns. Say we'll kill him if he doesn't hand over a boat. What's to think about?"
Beom-sik flicked his rifle to semi-auto, but Jaejeong switched it back to safe.
"Why?"
"We're not here to fight. Gotta think how our actions look to the safe zone. Starting trouble ain't smart. And if we shoot here, nowhere to run."
"Feels slimy."
"What's got you so worried?"
Jaejeong prodded.
"Gut feeling—he'll shoot us once he gets the weapons."
"So what do you wanna do?"
"Leave all the guns here and cross. Toss 'em in the water. He said no weapons, right?"
"Hey, if he wants us dead, he'll kill us weaponless or not. You think killers hang out without guns? Per your logic, there's guys hiding on every yacht waiting."
"Exactly."
Beom-sik nodded confidently.
Jaejeong actually wanted to avoid trouble.
Youngman looked agreeable too.
With their buy-in, the mood shifted to compliance.
Jaejeong soothed once more.
"Here's my take. If they don't pat us down after, he's lying. If he just wants us dead like you say, no need for body searches—just take visible weapons and attack. But if he's legit, checking us for safe passage to Yeouido, he'll search bags too. Can't risk a late find—all heat on him, remember. Trust me."
Beom-sik nodded reluctantly.
"So, we good?"
The man beamed at Jaejeong, who was turning back. Forced smile, obvious.
Not keen, but had to play it out to see.
Worst case, chuck him in the river.
Jaejeong collected the group's weapons and tossed them across one by one.
All except Anna's bow.
"Why's that lady keeping her bow...?"
"She's an archer. National team. Not a weapon."
"Hold on."
The man pulled a radio.
Briefed someone on the situation and Anna.
Response: fine.
Bows okay, they'd check inside.
Plausible.
No need to lie this thoroughly.
Only Beom-sik kept his suspicious glare.
"All good, bow's fine. Drop the rifles, I'll lower the bridge. Wait a sec."
The man checked each rifle's safety personally, slung them over his shoulder, and vanished into the pier.
Moments later.
He emerged with a buddy, carrying a long plank.
Both straining—not light.
"Move back!"
The group retreated; the man uprighted the plank and let it drop.
Thud!
Bridge formed.
"Dangerous folks ahead, had to do it this way—understand? Hate it myself. Damn heavy."
He dusted his hands and turned.
Minyoung asked innocently.
"So we're good now? Can cross right away?"
"Yep. Fetching keys—hang tight."
The man flashed another mismatched grin.
That instant.
Jaejeong whipped out a hidden hiking knife, grabbed the man's hair, and pressed it to his throat.
The man's face drained white in shock.
"Wh-what the hell!"
"Come clean now, might let you live."
"About what?"
"Explaining hurts my jaw. Won't say it twice."
"Just end it."
Beom-sik egged on.
The man's jaw trembled.
Eyes darting wildly in panic, he finally squeezed them shut.
"Fine. I'll spill. Hey! Come out! It's over!"
At his shout, burly men popped from yachts like magic.
Five total.
All armed with bats or pipes.
Jaejeong's gaze flicked to Beom-sik.
Exactly as he'd said.
"What'd I tell ya?"
Jaejeong had no retort, mouth shut.
"Drop 'em, assholes. See this knife? You trying to get me killed?"
The men frantically tossed their weapons into the river.
Only then did Jaejeong release him.
"Boats ready now. Youngest, keys! Hurry!"
"Yes, boss!"
The youngest-looking subordinate bolted to the pier building.
While waiting, the man fidgeted like he was on thorns.
Beom-sik's death glare didn't help.
Stomping, he eyed the pier—the kid was sprinting back.
"G-go on now."
"Live nice, yeah?"
Beom-sik smacked the man's head repeatedly.
The man bowed frantically, groveling pathetically.
It was almost embarrassing to watch.
"Y-yes. Got it. Sorry."
Youngman took the keys, inspecting the boat.
He knew how to drive, apparently.
Good—Jaejeong had planned to make the man do it if needed.
Right then.
Click!
"Freeze. Hands up, turn around."
A chill swept the air.
Turning, they saw the groveling man now aiming a pistol.
Expression, voice, tone—all a different person.
Eerily so.
Infected People