The Place Where It All Began
My respected professor once told me this: to stop the collapse, you have to employ equally vicious methods. Naturally, it meant that to survive the apocalypse, people had to harden their hearts. I decided to follow that lesson. In an apocalypse where finding hope was difficult, surviving required more talent, luck, and willpower than others. As an aspiring scenario writer, I had no talent for survival, and my luck was so poor that I got arrested by the police on the first day. So I had to force myself to adopt some ruthlessness.
'It's time to secure a temporary base somehow.'
Having studied while driving around in the camping car, I raised my head. The camping car, its efficiency dropping due to the continuous traffic accidents and jammed roads. Above all, the roads had become dangerous with more and more zombies appearing, making movement risky. It was time for a temporary base. After all, weren't nomads those who moved in search of land to feed their livestock? It was correct to minimize going outside and endure in a safe building until resources ran short. And that safe building was naturally someone else's house.
"Jeon Dohyeong. Let's rob a house."
"...Whose house?"
Jeon Dohyeong answered in a voice filled with resolve. After meeting the professor, he seemed to have pondered something by himself and had completely taken on the demeanor of a marauder. No hesitation, no faltering.
"An old house. One with an outdated door lock."
I quietly picked up the taser gun. A taser that could be used as a stun gun once the cartridge was removed. When I pulled the trigger, a blue spark flashed.
"From what I looked up, old door locks open if you shock them with electricity."
"So where's a house like that? Most door locks are new models these days, aren't they?"
I closed my eyes. A certain building came to mind. The villa where I used to live, an old building without an elevator, with worn-out stairs and ancient door locks. It was time to return to the place where I had first killed a person.
"I'll give you the address."
It was the twentieth day since the zombie outbreak began. With over a hundred thousand people having turned into zombies and more than seven hundred thousand infected. I was heading back to the place where my life had derailed.
Of course, it wasn't the house I lived in. If I went there directly, the neighbor next door—a skilled informant—would report me to the police immediately. It'd be like the soap-spraying killer coming back. I'd return to my own house after dealing with that snitch.
Instead, I first chose the clearly vacant house on the third floor. The home of the young couple I'd unintentionally killed. The one right below mine.
Zzzzt— The taser flashed. The old door lock couldn't withstand the power of the mighty lightning. It simply opened the door obediently.
"…."
"…."
In the silence, the door creaked open. The house where the young couple had once lived emanated a gloomy atmosphere like a derelict building. It was only natural after three weeks without human touch. Dust blanketed the floors like a carpet, the place looked as if the apocalypse had swept through, and the newlywed photos were covered in dull grime.
As we cautiously surveyed the house, Jeon Dohyeong pointed at a photo and whispered.
"Aren't these people coming back? It does seem empty, but…."
"Yeah. They won't be coming back."
How could dead people return? If they did, I might break down in tears. An apocalypse where corpses come back would be too much.
"How do you know that?"
"Because I killed them."
"...Huh?"
Jeon Dohyeong, who had been holding his breath since it was someone else's house, raised his voice. He took a few steps back from me and opened his eyes wide as if he'd realized something.
"No way…. That thing on the mountain back then—was it you killing a person…?"
"It was similar, but it was a zombie."
I glossed over it. Let's just call it a zombie. Since it died from the soapy water meant to kill zombies, it must have been a zombie, right? Like how failing a test that humans can pass makes you not human? In a world where killing a few people was no big deal anyway.
Jeon Dohyeong adjusted his mask as if washing his face with dry hands and let out a deep sigh.
"You're stepping on the gas from the very beginning of this mess…."
"You have to, if you want to survive. Anyway, let's check the resources first."
A house for a couple. I wasn't sure how much food or other supplies there would be. We searched the rooms and balcony, meticulously checking the resources.
A bag of rice, plenty of kimchi and side dishes in the fridge, some ramen, tuna, and Spam cans. There were masks, probably prepared for yellow dust or pollen.
"Ugh!"
We also saw a rice cooker and pot with mold growing since no one had been there, but it was manageable. The key was having enough to last two weeks if we rationed carefully. There was also a usable leather jacket.
At that point, we set down the heavy bag. The bag filled with various tools clattered as it hit the floor. The first thing we pulled out was something that looked like a sprayer.
"Disinfection first."
We sprayed the disinfectant so heavily it nearly soaked the house. Afterward, we prepared as if for a disaster. We filled as much water as possible, turned on the news, and worked on the items we'd planned.
We cut up the leather jacket from the house, hammered in nails, and created something like a spiked dog collar. It took advantage of zombies' tendency to bite necks—so if they bit, they'd get a mouthful of nails.
Next, we cut plastic bottles, shaped them, and made a hydroponic system to grow lettuce.
In the background of this tedious work, the news played.
"Did the diagnostic kit come out? Is the stock going up?!"
Jeon Dohyeong, who was cutting the plastic bottle with kitchen scissors, looked up, but it wasn't that. The news was about a cultivation-based detection method, not a kit. The screen kept showing a world thrown into chaos by the unimaginable disaster of a zombie outbreak. Zombie, zombie, zombie… Reference footage of short videos taken by schoolkids or internet streamers hunting for zombies, clashes between stubborn human-rights groups and citizen organizations that were finally sensing the danger, dizzying reports on politics, diplomacy, and the economy.
Suddenly the screen switched to a funeral hall filled with screams. People dead from every kind of accident, people killed by zombie attacks, people who had become zombies and died. There was no room left to store the bodies, so they lay scattered like trash in body bags. And the living who feared their own grieving family members might suddenly turn.
"…."
"…."
We stopped cutting the plastic bottles and simply stared at the screen. Fear, distrust, and conflict seemed to be spreading through society in earnest. Of course, it was still not enough.
'Just the counted zombies are a hundred thousand. If each person has ten family members, friends, or acquaintances, that makes a million people connected to them.'
A million people who would oppose killing zombies. On top of that, everyone was terrified they might already be infected themselves. When you didn't know if you'd turn into a zombie tomorrow, it was hard to demand extreme measures. Perhaps the majority would have to start believing in doomsday theories before the military would move. Of course, that military was in chaos too….
"It's really going to end…." Jeon Dohyeong said helplessly.
I answered roughly while fitting the cut plastic bottle together. "I've told you several times that the world's ending."
"I still can't quite believe it. Is this even possible? In this day and age?"
As if to refute Jeon Dohyeong's doubt, a zombie's cry of "Kraaaak!" came from outside the window.
Curious, I went to the window. A lone zombie was wandering. A pedestrian walking the street spotted it from afar and naturally turned away.
'…Can I use that zombie?'
I fell into brief thought. It was a continuation of the worries I'd had since returning to this villa. A four-story above-ground, one-basement villa with two units on the first floor. Should I break in at night, kill every resident, and claim the building? Should I use zombies to do it? Or somehow rally the residents into a group and put them to work farming at home?
Of course, there was only one answer.
'What group? They could be infected.'
Safety came first. Just cleanly take the resources. They weren't valuable enough to risk recruiting. I set down the scissors and bottle and picked up my phone. I was choosing a noise that would draw the zombie's attention.
"Jeon Dohyeong, let's use that zombie."
"How?"
"We need to claim this villa. First, let's clear out one more house."
I explained briefly, and with that, we left the house.
'Man, about thirty years old?'
From inside the wide-open building entrance, we observed the zombie. The creature shuffling blankly happened to pass the entrance. With no stimulus, it looked like nothing more than a dog wandering the street.
I found a loud alarm tone and placed my finger on the play button.
"Ready?"
"I'm ready, but this is our only cartridge. Are you really going to use it here?"
Jeon Dohyeong shook the taser with the cartridge loaded. The electrode-prong cartridge was single-use. Once fired, the taser could only work as a stun gun from then on.
But I brushed it off. "What are you saving it for? If we run out, we can just loot the police again later."
It was plenty useful as a universal key. I pressed play immediately and pulled on the leather gloves stolen from the couple's house.
Beep-beep-beep-beep. The unpleasant alarm blared loudly.
"Grrrk."
The zombie passing the entrance whipped its head toward us. Its expression twisted, body crouching slightly like someone about to sprint.
"Kraaaak!"
The zombie charged with its mouth agape. The moment it stepped onto the stairs, Jeon Dohyeong fired the taser.
Pop—like a balloon bursting—followed by the crackle of electricity. That was it. The zombie tumbled over with a crash.
"I'll drag it. You keep pulling the trigger."
"Got it."
I turned the alarm volume down and dragged the zombie upstairs, worrying whether its teeth had broken. Toward the fourth floor where the female college student who had reported me lived. The one who lived next door to me and called the police immediately—one of the people who had ruined my life from day one of the outbreak.
Holding the zombie from behind, I jerked my chin at Jeon Dohyeong. Open the door now.
Even with trembling hands, Jeon Dohyeong gritted his teeth and moved. He extracted the prongs, recovered the cartridge, and shocked the door lock with electricity.
Srrrk— The lock opened.
"Grrk, kyaack!"
Without even looking inside, I shoved the thrashing zombie in. Then immediately slammed the door shut.
My heart pounded wildly.
In the very building where I'd accidentally killed someone, I was now deliberately killing a person with my own choice. Not as an ordinary person frantically reacting to an accident, but actively as an apocalyptic marauder.
Like the day I'd overheard the neighbor woman's police report, I pressed my head against the door. Sounds came through. Crashing—the furious zombie smashing something. A woman's scream. Faint sounds of an online lecture. Thudding footsteps approaching the front door.
"…."
I signaled Jeon Dohyeong with my eyes. Block the door firmly. Lean your weight so it can't open.
Drenched in cold sweat, Jeon Dohyeong moved weakly like a puppet and leaned against the door beside me.
Bang! The door rattled.
"Help me! Someone call the police! There's a zombie! Aaaah!"
I braced against the door with enough force to stiffen my joints. It almost made me want to laugh, so I bit my tongue. The situation from the past had completely reversed. Back then I'd begged them not to call the police, to please open the door.
After the door shook several times, silence fell. Srrrk—the sound of a body collapsing. Crunch—the sound of flesh being chewed.
I slowly pulled away from the door. It felt like my body temperature was returning after being chilled by the cold entrance.
'One down. Seven houses left?'
My house, the college girl's house, and the couple's house were now mine. If I took care of the rest, the entire villa—resources from ten households—would be in my grasp.
I suddenly felt a sense of relief.
The twentieth day of the zombie outbreak. I had transformed from a passive human swept along by disaster into an active survivor. I'd succeeded in my revenge and made progress in securing a base.
Everything was proceeding smoothly.