Survivor in the Studio
Swish! Swish!
The sounds of slicing through the water grew louder and more numerous.
But they couldn't just turn back now.
The infected were already too close.
If they spun around and made a racket, it would only be a matter of time before they were caught.
Jaejeong's mind raced, desperately searching for a way out of this mess.
The bastards had sharp hearing.
Their eyesight seemed shit, and he had no clue about their sense of touch or smell.
Not knowing half of it sucked, but based on what they'd figured out so far about their abilities...
They had no choice but to stay put.
Moving now would get them killed just the same.
The only play they had was to hold still and wait it out.
But it was a gamble with shitty odds.
Jaejeong whispered just loud enough for the group to hear.
"Kill the flashlights. Everyone freeze right there. Don't move a goddamn inch."
The stench of rot stabbed at their noses, growing thicker by the second.
Before they knew it, the infected were right in front of them.
Jaejeong drew in a slow breath and held it.
Please, just keep going. Hurry the fuck up.
Eyes open or shut made no difference, but Jaejeong squeezed them closed and prayed anyway.
Thud.
One infected bumped into Jaejeong's shoulder.
He nearly gasped out the breath he'd been holding.
Luckily, the thing just kept pushing through the water like nothing happened.
Here and there, muffled thumps echoed as infected collided with the group.
Everyone gritted their teeth and held firm, one body at a time.
Sounds came from every direction now, disorienting them completely.
They couldn't tell front from back anymore.
How long had it been?
By sound alone, at least ten had passed.
No more close rustles now.
They were gone.
Jaejeong exhaled slowly.
His lungs burned like he'd sprinted a marathon.
Flashlights flicked back on one by one.
The water sounds faded into the distance.
The things didn't seem driven by any real purpose.
Just shambling aimlessly in one direction.
Tension lingered, so no one spoke as they picked up the pace.
They'd learned the hard way: unless it was critical, shut your mouth—especially near echoing spots.
The silent march rounded the corner and pressed on.
After a straight stretch of several hundred meters, the wall Hyunsu mentioned finally appeared.
Sure enough, a ladder.
"Where the hell are we?"
Beom-sik shone his light on the manhole cover at the ladder's top, asking Hyunsu.
"No idea. Just that it's near the broadcasting station."
"I'll go first. Hyunsu, hand me this."
Jaejeong passed his sledgehammer, clamped the flashlight in his teeth, and grabbed the ladder.
His massive forearms propelled him up in seconds, reaching the cover.
Insane speed.
"Spider-Man wishes."
Beom-sik chuckled.
At the manhole, Jaejeong pocketed the light and caught his breath.
One, two, three!
The hefty cover—pushing 150kg—grated open inch by inch.
Just enough to peek out.
He had to check the surface.
Blasting it open with noise would draw them straight to the hole—game over.
Already, the grinding had some reacting wildly below.
But like Hyunsu said, they didn't look down.
Just milling around the sound's source, clueless.
Jaejeong poked his head out.
Shit... too many.
Way too fucking many.
He nearly slammed the cover shut and slid back down, skipping rungs.
Youngman asked, "What's up top?"
"Too damn many. No way we climb out like this."
"I'll check."
Anna pulled two flare arrows.
"That's the last two?"
"Yeah. Final ones."
"You first. I'll cover from behind."
"Why?"
Jaejeong looked exasperated.
"You need both hands for the bow. How the hell you gonna hang on the ladder?"
"Wasn't planning to lean out and shoot?"
Anna figured she'd climb halfway, poke her torso out, and fire.
Impossible.
At least to Jaejeong, who'd seen the swarm outside.
"You hear me? It's a fucking horde out there. You'll get trampled before you even light the flares, dumbass."
"Ugh, fine. Whatever. Let's do it your way."
They climbed.
Jaejeong couldn't look up.
Anna's leggings would make it awkward as hell.
He needed somewhere else to stare.
"When you get up, fix your pants or something."
"Pants? Why?"
"Gotta watch above, but can't with that view."
"Can't you just not say shit and keep it to yourself? Pervert."
"If I was a perv, I'd be staring my fill. Point is, your head's all twisted up."
"Whatever. Hate this. We're here—open it."
Anna grumbled, leaning aside.
Jaejeong shoved the cover.
Scraaape!
It cracked open half a palm's width.
"Shoot through the gap."
"Why you hanging backward?"
Anna eyed Jaejeong, clinging reverse to the ladder.
He should face her, but he was flipped.
"Just do it. Better my back than your shoulder or chest, right?"
"Doesn't matter. We've done worse."
"Shut up."
Anna perched on his back like a chair.
The weight of a full-grown person hit hard.
Veins bulged on Jaejeong's arms gripping the ladder.
"Here goes."
Fizzle!
She lit the fuse; the bowstring drew taut.
Thwang!
The arrow streaked through the slit of light.
From above, it'd look like some secret underground missile launching.
It flew strong but plummeted fast under the flare's weight.
Then...
Bang! Boom!
A deafening blast rattled their ears.
Anna lifted off; Jaejeong slammed the cover shut.
Hanging right under the street, footsteps thundered and vibrations shook them.
When it stopped, the cover creaked open again.
Anna's face popped up like a sprout.
Clear.
The infected had all charged toward the noise.
"Everyone, up."
Anna and Jaejeong first, then Minyoung, Youngman, Hyunsu—onto the street one by one.
Cold-numbed feet warmed on the sun-baked asphalt.
And warmth meant...
"Fuck, it's hot."
Hyunsu muttered at the sun hanging over the ridge.
Forgotten swelter crashed back.
"There—the broadcasting station."
Anna pointed to the massive building next block over.
Shorter than neighbors but still a high-rise.
"Move."
Jaejeong led at a brisk pace.
At every alley between buildings, they ducked and scanned.
Sure enough.
Stray infected lurked, detached from the pack.
Jaejeong signaled quick: red clothes his, white to Youngman, bike-passer to Beom-sik.
Skulls cracked in rapid succession.
Thud! Thud!
Anna's arrows pierced the foreheads of two charging from afar.
Probably drawn by the earlier kills' roars.
They dropped silent.
The group's kills grew faster, motions sharper, hits deadlier.
Anna yanked arrows from heads, shaking off black goo.
Her reuse method.
Quiet returned.
At the broadcasting station entrance, they peered through shattered full-glass doors.
Guts strewn on floors, dried blood everywhere.
A disaster zone awaited.
Good news: indoor infected had chased the flares away.
Just watch for stragglers.
Jaejeong led, spinning his crusty sledgehammer.
Nothing immediate in sight.
They found a floor directory.
Lots of options.
Each floor crammed with facilities.
Eyes locked on the 8th-floor radio studio.
"That's it."
"Yep."
Minyoung pointed; Youngman nodded.
"Shit, my legs are jelly. How we getting to eight?"
Hyunsu rubbed his aching thighs, whining.
Not just him.
Minyoung's slighter build struggled too.
But they had to.
"Huh?"
Jaejeong halted mid-stairs.
At the landing, overhead sensors hummed to life.
Power was on.
Jackpot.
Electricity meant cooking, hot showers, even downtime.
Luxury maybe, but TVs, recorded shows, radio—all possible.
Hope flickered.
Soaked in sweat by the time they hit eight.
No sounds beyond the steel door.
Clank!
Lock turned; door to the 8th-floor hall swung open.
Jaejeong's head poked through.
Quick scan left-right.
Grahhh!
Infected in the hall flipped at the noise.
But something off.
All clustered at one door.
Count: five.
Thwang!
Anna stepped in, loosed one.
Jaejeong leaped over the crumpling forehead-shot, sledgehammer crumpling the next skull.
As he recovered, Youngman and Beom-sik surged.
Awk and machete dropped two.
Last one lunged through.
"Down!"
Anna yelled; the three men dropped.
Arrow slammed its temple.
Done.
Hyunsu scratched his head awkwardly, bat in hand, too far to join.
Jaejeong and Youngman approached the door the infected fixated on.
"Studio" sign, splattered with gore.
Jaejeong peered through the small window.
Curtains blocked most.
"See anything?"
"Nah, nothing."
"Why were they all bunched here?"
"No clue. Weird... holy shit! What the fuck?!"
Jaejeong jammed his face to the glass, then jerked back yelling.
Startled, Youngman stumbled away too.
"What?"
"Th-there's someone inside. A woman, I think."
Jaejeong stammered, uncharacteristically.
Beom-sik shoved in for a look.
Frowned.
A woman stood there, gripping a kitchen knife.
"No wonder you jumped."
Beom-sik muttered, grimacing.
Infected People