The Horde Obeys
Han Jaejeong's heart was racing.
It was because there was still no word from Jeong I-jin.
By now, the guy should've caught up, ribbing him for still fumbling around.
On top of that, Kang Youngman's shouts from outside gnawed at him.
What's going on? Did the ones chasing the flare come back? No, if so, they'd have retreated inside.
He quickened his pace, and pain throbbed everywhere, sharp and burning.
Blood kept seeping through the tears in his clothes, soaking his T-shirt.
The agony rolling in felt like getting hit by a car and tumbling several times.
He tried straightening his shoulders.
The wounds screamed open in protest.
By the time his grimace settled, memories of the brawl with the monster flooded back.
A nail jutted from the wall where a clock must've hung once.
The doorframe bore multiple dents, and the ceiling—bare steel beams, not flat panels—had spared him broken bones by some miracle.
He had no idea how bad the damage was, but losing that much blood was never good.
Back at base, he needed at least basic treatment.
Of course, this wasn't his first rodeo with injuries.
Compared to scrapes from his past gigs, this barely qualified.
Have I been slacking too long?
A hollow chuckle escaped him.
Fighting movie-monster freaks while reminiscing—it was so absurd he had to laugh.
Somehow, he was adapting to this shitshow reality.
Infected. Mutants.
Putting them down.
Glancing back, he saw Kim Chan-yeol and Sergeant Choi checking the open room.
That was when it hit.
Dr-r-r-r! Dr-r-r-r! Dr-r-r-r!
Wheels?
Hiding at the last stretch to the clothing store exit, Jaejeong waited for the sound to close in.
Seeing him, Kim Chan-yeol and Sergeant Choi gripped their daggers, ready.
Jaejeong peeked out.
"Haa..."
It was Jeong I-jin.
Sighing in relief, he stepped around the corner—only for Jeong I-jin to flinch back at the sight.
"It's me."
"Fuck, you scared me. Now even big shit makes me jump."
Jeong I-jin rubbed his pounding chest.
The monster fight had clearly seared into his brain.
"You had one too?"
"Yeah, fucking huge. You?"
Jaejeong nodded.
"But hyung, what the hell happened to you?"
"Just this and that."
"Sir, yes sir!"
Kim Chan-yeol and Sergeant Choi rounded the corner, snapping salutes at Jeong I-jin.
"Good work. You guys'll live long."
"But what's that?"
Jaejeong eyed the green cart Jeong I-jin dragged, white handle gleaming on the floor.
"Oh, this? Squad Leader here."
Spinning it around revealed the Squad Leader slumped aboard.
His torso and limbs were bound tight to the cart.
"Told him to stay put, but he freaked, bolted solo, got clocked by the pig, and passed out."
"He dead?"
"Nah, fine. He even guarded."
"Uh... Captain."
Kim Chan-yeol cautiously cut in.
"What?"
"Did you happen to see our squad mates?"
"Ah..."
Jeong I-jin scratched his head, face troubled.
He pulled a fistful of dog tags from his pocket.
Jaejeong fished one from his own.
Sergeant Choi and Kim Chan-yeol counted them.
Seven. Spot on.
Shadows fell over their faces.
Everyone but them was gone.
Most bodies from the Squad Leader's hall meant the squad had instinctively sought their CO.
"Ahem."
Jeong I-jin cleared his throat, eyeing their reactions.
Time to bail.
Toting a knocked-out lump wasn't ideal, and Jaejeong looked rough.
He glossed over the supply room mess.
No need detailing Sergeant Jeong's end.
Some truths were best buried.
Not lying, though—the guy was dead.
Spilling details would just tangle the survivors' bonds.
The living had to live on.
With Jaejeong leading out of the office, the other three followed.
Stalled escalator posed a Squad Leader haul problem—till Jaejeong froze.
Detective instinct, maybe.
"What?"
Jeong I-jin asked as Jaejeong spun, scanning the clothing store.
Jaejeong eyed the racks.
Ripped or parted curtains.
Earlier, they were...
"Hold up."
He approached a display.
Ducking low revealed empty space beneath.
Liquids pooled on the floor.
Infected fluids.
"They... hid here."
"What? Who?"
"We cleared floor by floor from one up."
"Yeah."
"Dealt with five on two before entering."
"So you're saying where'd these fuckers come from? This was open, sure. But that don't add up."
If Jaejeong was right, they'd moved on some signal—coordinated.
Hiding right as he and Jeong I-jin smashed heads in here.
"Look—pooled under the rack. Same black sludge they leak."
Jeong I-jin stood frozen, mouth agape.
Next question hit.
"No way. Who ordered that?"
"Nothing solid. We didn't see it. But thinkin' on mine—the zombies swarmed first, then it showed. Yours?"
"Me..."
Jeong I-jin dredged memory.
The monster appeared with infected.
Watched like a commander as they died, then engaged.
As if knowing the space was too tight for joint combat.
Eyes widened.
"Shit, yeah. Makes sense... how?"
"Dunno. But they're not like the start. Getting worse..."
Jaejeong recalled the hospital rooftop.
That face staring up, ignoring Anna's flare arrow.
Mutant?
Not army report material.
Tell the vaccine docs or Minyoung.
Might help.
Moments later.
Jaejeong and Jeong I-jin shouldered the limp Squad Leader; Kim Chan-yeol and Sergeant Choi trailed as they passed the first-floor registers and exited.
Jeong I-jin halted at the changed scene outside.
Jaejeong sensed it too, laying the Squad Leader in a corner.
No utility truck.
Gone from dead ahead of the auto doors.
Jeong I-jin drew his scythe; Jaejeong his sledgehammer.
Kim Chan-yeol and Sergeant Choi unslung rifles.
Turning revealed it: truck smashed into a pole, bumper wrecked.
Infected corpses around; a monster dead, arrows riddling its skull.
No fucking way...
Jaejeong bolted to the street.
"Haa..."
Relief washed over him at the group on the sidewalk nearby.
But shit looked bad.
Youngman exhausted; Anna clutching her head like a migraine sufferer.
Still, her face lit at Jaejeong.
Anna asked.
"Survivors?"
"Yeah, two. What happened? Why's Beom-sik like that?"
Jaejeong pointed at Lee Beom-sik and the driver sprawled on the ground; Youngman recapped briefly.
Jeong I-jin eyed Jaejeong.
Organized movement confirmed.
Monster strength could've crushed the hiding Squad Leader easy.
Door-ripping power.
Kim Chan-yeol and Sergeant Choi too.
Spares, betting a rescue team would show.
But can the dead think? Hell, they're dead and moving—that's the glitch.
Headache bloomed from tangled thoughts.
Sun dipping low.
"Load up first. Beom-sik's mild gas poisoning; this guy's the issue. CPR and airway got his pulse back, but I'm no doc. We roll now."
Youngman finished, climbing into the pole-pinned truck to crank it.
It groaned, then caught.
Vroom!
Anna took shotgun.
Back: three knockouts laid flat; four seated crammed feet into gaps to brace heads.
Hours since safe zone, but felt like days.
Cool wind rushed in.
Rear riders—Jaejeong, Jeong I-jin, Kim Chan-yeol, Sergeant Choi—shared smokes, drinking in the ruined world.
Blood flow crusted, clotting.
"Captain... but sir."
Kim Chan-yeol asked Jeong I-jin over the truck rumble.
"That pig bursting on its own—what's that mean? Missed details covering Squad Leader."
"Pushed the pole back with the truck; the body sandwiched in exploded like a bomb."
"How's a human body pumping out killer gas?"
"Fuck if I know. But sure as shit wasn't human."
"Mad world. Zombies everywhere, now chatting and infighting? Gas from pops? Ugh, sky's next. Fuck this."
Sergeant Choi shook his head like a lunatic.
Jeong I-jin smirked at the cursing sergeant, despite rank.
What to say?
Some folks stay lovable even acting weird.
Others grate doing good; Sergeant Choi just clicked.
Downright cute.
Sergeant Choi piped up.
"Chan-yeol, learned something today."
"What, sir?"
"Excluding brass, just us regular grunts left."
"Yes, sir."
Kim Chan-yeol blinked.
"Next time shit hits, they'll send us first. Special forces treatment."
"Ah..."
Kim Chan-yeol deflated.
Survival wasn't pure win.
Among rank-and-file, only them with this hell under belt—even in safe zone.
Any CO would deploy vets.
Thought guarding the zone was it; mountains behind mountains.
Pat!
Sergeant Choi clapped Kim Chan-yeol's shoulder.
"Sergeant Kim Chan-yeol."
"Next time, we survive together. Promise."
"Duh? We kicked ass, right?"
"We? All me."
"Pfft."
As they bantered away fear, Jaejeong's gaze shifted to Jeong I-jin.
Brotherhood hit home now—he was alive.
Deeper than they felt.
Death-defying tours abroad; brothers, not blood.
Kim Chan-yeol and Sergeant Choi mirrored their old selves—odd vibe.
Gaze drifted to floored Beom-sik.
Sudden chuckle.
What if Beom-sik died today?
Spotting the wrecked truck, Beom-sik flashed first among faces.
Hard asking him along—no survival guarantee.
Yet Beom-sik agreed easy.
Like no biggie.
Anna too, but scared inside.
Grateful, guilty twinge.
Mild gas—should wake soon.
As Jaejeong quashed worries, the truck hit safe zone.
Infected People