Storm Shelter
Whoosh!
The two zombies charging toward Jaejeong staggered wildly the moment they burst out of the building into the ferocious wind, collapsing flat on their faces.
Now's my chance!
Jaejeong seized the opportunity, lunging at them and jamming his dagger into their skulls.
Meanwhile, the last one slammed into a mailbox, tumbled again, and rolled backward several times.
Forget chasing that one...
Jaejeong turned back and sprinted through the narrow gap between the shops.
Urban planning in South Korea was mostly uniform.
That's why even a first-time visit to a new city could feel oddly familiar.
It meant all the structures followed a similar blueprint.
In areas packed with mid-sized commercial buildings like this—not towering skyscrapers—there were bound to be multi-family villas nearby.
Or at least studio apartments or officetels tucked inside the shops themselves.
There we go.
A small villa came into view right after the alleyway.
It looked perfect.
First, he had to bring the group.
Retracing his steps, Jaejeong found everyone huddled behind a flower bed, scanning their surroundings.
"This way."
They all followed him, dashing through the gap between the shops.
But Choi Ha-sa, bringing up the rear, froze as if he'd seen a ghost.
"Choi... no, Sergeant Choi. What's wrong?"
Choi Ha-sa didn't answer.
Click!
Suddenly, he aimed his rifle like a madman at something in the distance.
Startled by the move, Kim Chan-yeol reflexively raised his own rifle.
There had to be something there—no way he'd react like that for nothing.
They approached slowly, standing shoulder to shoulder, staring in the same direction.
"What the hell?"
They turned at the sound of Jaejeong's voice from behind—just as a dark silhouette emerged from the path they'd come.
Disheveled hair like a ghost's, and as it drew closer, a faint humming drifted toward them.
This time, it was a different tune.
A Crazy Mom had appeared.
The Crazy Mom's mouth slowly gaped open as she locked eyes with the two men.
Right then!
Bang! Bang! Bang-bang-bang!
Choi Ha-sa's muzzle flashed, and the startled Kim Chan-yeol squeezed his trigger too.
It all happened in an instant.
The Crazy Mom crumpled lifelessly, a hole blasted through her head.
"Run!"
The pair bolted full-tilt toward the group.
Zombies had appeared out of nowhere at the villa entrance, locked in a fierce brawl with the others.
"No! Don't shoot!"
Jaejeong shouted to stop the two as they casually raised their rifles.
With no choice, Kim Chan-yeol and Choi Ha-sa charged the infected with bayonets fixed.
Stab! Stab!
The few remaining ones finally dropped, but Youngman's face darkened as he emerged from inside the building first.
Both side doors were locked.
No one had anticipated something so obvious.
"Get out here!"
Jaejeong yelled as he rounded the corner to the balcony.
Aluminum bars covered the balcony window.
Jaejeong knew exactly how burglars pried off bars like these.
Especially in older buildings—they came loose easier than you'd think.
His vision blurred by the pounding rain, he kept wiping his face before leaping up.
Hanging halfway, Jaejeong gripped the bars and shook them wildly in every direction.
The group watching below held their breath, hearts pounding from the recent gunfire.
Any second now, hordes of those things could swarm them.
Clank! Clank!
Whether from Jaejeong's brute strength or the bars' age, they tore free faster than expected.
Luckily, the window itself wasn't locked.
Jaejeong shoved it open.
"Inside!"
He dropped back down, hoisting each group member one by one and shoving them through.
As they filed in, the rest reached out to pull each other up.
In seconds, everyone was in. They slammed the window shut and moved to the living room.
It was bigger than it looked from outside—a decent-sized place.
The owners clearly hadn't made it home.
A stroller in the entryway, Hangul stickers papering the living room walls—little signs everywhere pointed to a family raising a baby.
Youngman checked the master bedroom frames.
Three residents.
Fortunately, the man was tall and burly; the woman, slim and slender.
Back in the living room, he flipped over every photo and frame in sight.
Stuff like that only weakened resolve.
Better to block negative thoughts at the source.
Meanwhile, the others gulped water from canteens and refilled from the purifier.
The fridge was a bust, of course...
Too much time had passed; nothing edible left.
Jaejeong and I-jin quickly rummaged the cabinets.
A solid stack of canned tuna and ham.
Enough to last the day, no problem.
"Everyone, come here!"
Youngman's voice from the bedroom drew them all in.
He stood with every closet and drawer flung open.
Kim Chan-yeol and Choi Ha-sa glanced at a family photo on the wall; Youngman swiftly yanked it down and shoved it under the bed.
"Just be grateful, nothing more. Look at these clothes—we've got enough for everyone to change. Sizes look about right, and the owner's built sturdy enough for you too, Jaejeong. Everyone keeps a few oversized pieces anyway."
The group rummaged through the closets in a frenzy.
They grabbed wearable outfits and headed to the living room.
By now, the bedroom floor was soaked through.
No more talk after that.
Anna, feeling grimy, headed to the bathroom for a shower; the rest wiped down with towels and changed into fresh clothes.
A short while later.
Gathered in the living room, they mopped the floor clean and settled into spots around the room.
Spacious as it was, eight people filled it up tight.
"So why'd you fire those shots earlier?"
Jaejeong eyed Kim Chan-yeol and Choi Ha-sa.
They exchanged glances; Choi Ha-sa spoke up.
"We were tailing the group when I spotted someone staring at me from a first-floor shop window. Even the glimpse gave me chills. The silhouette screamed Crazy Mom, so I figured if we didn't take her out, we were in danger. Couldn't risk waiting to find out what she'd do."
"...Good call."
"Sorry, sir. I'll ask first next time."
Choi Ha-sa caught the intent behind the question and bowed his head apologetically.
"Nah, you did right. No time for that anyway."
Jaejeong didn't reprimand him.
Rules mattered, but sometimes preemptive action was key.
Hell, if they'd hesitated, her scream might've drawn a zombie horde.
"But we shot off rounds—why hasn't a single one shown up?"
Anna peered out the small kitchen window.
"Typhoon, probably. Wind's picking up more. Hear that? Stuff flying around, branches snapping louder."
"Makes sense. Hey, old man—how far to the HQ building from here?"
"Couple blocks at most. We're basically there."
As chatter flowed, Hyun-soo sat scanning the room, unease settling in.
Invading a stranger's home, acting like they owned the place, even changing into their clothes—it stirred a melancholy funk.
The people who lived here.
Did they know we were doing this right now?
Probably not.
This remote, the TV, the sofa—all bought and paid for, used daily.
They'd bought the place, furnished it, raised a kid, dreamed their dreams.
No escaping the gloom, no matter what else he thought about.
Maybe it was the absent owners' presence haunting the space.
Conversation died out at some point.
The wind outside howled fiercer than before.
With the bars gone, the windows rattled harder.
The KEPCO employee suddenly rummaged near the entryway.
He emerged with duct tape from who-knows-where and headed to the balcony.
Taping an X over the window.
Hyun-soo remembered seeing it on TV once.
During typhoons, it kept glass from shattering easily—or at least from injuring anyone badly if it did.
Another weird vibe.
An indescribable haze weighed on the group.
Jaejeong felt it too.
Back when the virus first spread.
He'd met Beom-sik at the hospital, Youngman at the high-rise.
Both public spots, not homes.
Same in the safe zone.
Barracks built on dirt, not someone's house.
This was a first.
Sitting in a stranger's home like you belonged.
Leaning against the wall, his head throbbed.
Time dragged; the wind grew savage.
Definitely a typhoon.
Rain hammered harder.
When was the last big one to hit Seoul?
Couldn't recall.
If it passed quick, they could move.
He scanned the living room.
Atmosphere too heavy.
Let this stretch on, and morale would tank.
Needed a fix.
What to do?
His eyes landed on a clear storage case under the TV, stuffed with dozens of DVDs.
Might as well kill time with a movie.
He grabbed the remote and flicked on the TV.
Powered up fine.
No broadcasts, of course.
Squatting, he eyed the discs.
"Wanna watch a movie?"
Anna sidled up.
Fresh from the shower, her damp hair carried a sweet scent that tickled his nose.
Jaejeong averted his gaze, shaking it off.
"Yeah, tons here. Pick your favorite."
"What's with you?"
"Huh?"
"Why can't you look at me? Got something to hide?"
"You made the guilt, not me. Quit yapping. Just grab one and play it. Stuck here till the typhoon blows over anyway."
He grumbled irritably and backed away.
It'd always been like this.
Jaejeong got awkward around women.
No dating since discharge, no time for it.
Close proximity like this? Uncharted territory.
How to put it.
His whole body tensed up.
Not like carrying or supporting her—those were all business.
This everyday closeness? Problematic.
"This one. What do you all think?"
Anna held up a disc, polling the group.
Hyun-soo, close enough to read the title, recoiled in horror.
"Th-that's a zombie movie!"
"So? Might learn something."
Jaejeong just shook his head.
Zombie flick, of all things.
Who keeps that in a family home?
In the end, the group hunkered down in a zombie-infested world... watching a zombie movie.
An old film, but shot so realistically it could've used real infected as extras.
It helped, somewhat.
They compared movie zombies to reality.
Debated the protagonists' choices, brainstormed alternatives.
No clue if it'd help, but Jaejeong figured it beat sitting idle.
Without it, they'd just fret over the future as time crawled.
A brief distraction from reality wasn't bad.
Especially this fleeting taste of mismatched leisure.
Outside remained unchanged even after credits rolled.
Wind fiercer, rain endless.
Wondered if it was actually passing.
Daylight hours away, yet pitch-black as midnight.
Maybe that's why.
The chatting group started dozing off one by one.