Fortress of Hope
Day 45 since the Wave Zombie Outbreak began. The number of zombies had already surpassed a million, with the infected closing in on three million. Like a rising tide, like an approaching flood, like dominoes tumbling one after another, the world was coming apart piece by piece. Still, there was hope.
Bang.Rattle. The church was a hive of activity. People hurried back and forth, stacking desks and chairs from the study rooms along with any other useless furniture to build barricades at the entrance and stair landings.
“Yes, leave just enough of a passage for people to squeeze through, but arrange everything so we can block it off instantly if we need to! Hey, narrower!”
I gestured at the others, sweat pouring down my face. After the Pastor had been assassinated by that treacherous security elder, the church had transformed into a survival community centered around the elders’ families and a handful of believers. Naturally, the building itself had changed completely. It was now a full-fledged fortress.
Everyone worked, regardless of age or gender. Those with any strength helped me turn the structure into a stronghold or set traps across the grounds. Those without it planted crops in plastic bottles or in the gaps left by torn-up paving blocks, or fashioned whatever tools we needed.
“Deacon Kwon. Isn’t this a little too narrow?”
A female college student dressed in bright spring colors tilted her head. From what Jeon Dohyeong had told me, she was a friend of the informant who’d been killed by zombies and had chosen to remain with the Hope Church as one of the believers.
I glanced at the stair landing—so narrow you had to walk sideways to pass—then shook my head.
“If it’s inconvenient for people, it’ll be inconvenient for zombies too. This is perfect. If they suddenly swarm us, it’ll be easy to seal off.”
“…Zombies really are terrifying.”
Her face darkened, probably remembering her friend who had been bitten and died inside her own home. I smiled at her and pointed upward.
“If you’ve got time to stand around, go upstairs and plant some tomatoes in those bottles.”
“It’s no fun when it’s just the aunties up there.”
“You still have to work even if it’s boring. Everything we grow is going into your own stomach eventually.”
Those who don’t work have no place in the community. People like that would be nothing more than zombie bait. Of course, that was only in my head. In a real community, even assassination was off the table. The most I could do was assign them the most dangerous tasks. Unlike small roaming marauder groups, there were too many restrictions here.
That was when it happened.
“Installation’s pretty much done—”
Jeon Dohyeong walked in, spotted me with the college girl, and practically jumped out of his skin. A bundle of ropes in his hand fluttered wildly with the motion.
“Wh-what are you— to her—”
“Dohyeong?”
The girl squeezed through the narrow landing with a grunt and walked over to him. They seemed to have grown rather close in the short time since they’d met. Jeon Dohyeong looked at me with an expression that tried and failed to hide his anxiety, clearly imagining all sorts of things.
I blinked. Why the hell did he look like a man who’d just seen a murderer pop up beside his friend?
I slowly descended the stairs.
“Work finished? Let me take a look.”
“Yeah, it’s done. So, uh… what were you talking about with Yeji?”
“Who’s Yeji?”
Jeon Dohyeong swallowed hard. At my genuinely puzzled reaction, the girl pouted.
“You don’t even remember my name? I introduced myself last time.”
“Ah.” Now that she mentioned it, I supposed I had heard it. Na Yeji, was it? Either way, she wasn’t important enough for me to bother remembering.
Her major wouldn’t be useful in the apocalypse, and her personality didn’t seem suited for marauder work. The three of us walked together. Na Yeji grumbled to Jeon Dohyeong.
“Deacon Kwon keeps nagging me to work.”
“Of course you have to work!”
“I already worked hard on all those posters! I pulled all-nighters and today was supposed to be my first real break!”
Memory clicked back into place. Art or design—she’d been working under the Evangelist Elder, diligently making posters for the Hope Church. A thought suddenly occurred to me.
The community is the community. Still… I wouldn’t mind having my own marauder-style logo.
Taken from the I of the Immortal Company. Immortal. The word had a nice ring to it. Even in this apocalypse, I would remain undying.
Jeon Dohyeong’s face went deathly pale as he studied my expression. His voice shook.
“If you don’t work, you die.”
“What kind of nonsense is that? Why would anyone die from taking one day off? Right, Deacon Kwon?”
I snapped back to the present.
“Yes, a single day is fine. People aren’t machines. Keep them running nonstop and they break down. Anyway, the grounds look decent.”
I ignored Na Yeji’s laughter at the idea of people being machines and Jeon Dohyeong’s muttering about “one day,” scanning the area instead. The low, elongated chapel building stood a short distance away, next to a fairly large parking lot. Street trees and lampposts dotted the surroundings. A few people squatted, digging with hoes and planting something. Aside from the handful of zombies that had wandered too close and been beaten to death, we had installed some basic traps.
Strings. We’d torn down roadside banners and used that rope along with red cord, strung at ankle and neck height. It’s a shame we don’t have any bear traps.
We’d done the best we could with what we had. With luck, anyone who tripped would injure themselves badly. If a zombie wave came, they’d trigger a chain reaction and collapse in droves. It wouldn’t stop determined people, of course. If someone truly meant harm, no trap would hold them back anyway.
Around that time, the Evangelist Elder—who had been outside—approached. His face was grim as he waved at me. The stack of posters in his hand, all made by Na Yeji, fluttered like they were waving too.
“Deacon Kwon! You’ve been working hard!”
“Not at all. You had it worse, Evangelist Elder, going out there.”
The streets were lethal. Several zombies had already been drawn over by the people farming. Walking around out there was a gamble with your life. But the Administrative Elder shook his head.
“No. You’ve filled the hole the Pastor left behind. I actually wondered if we needed to go this far, but after watching you these past few days, I see you were right.”
“No, no! That’s not true at all. It’s all thanks to the elders working so diligently…!”
I widened my eyes and waved my hands vigorously. Did the Administrative Elder harbor ill will toward me? Was he trying to get me killed? The Pastor had already proven it—leaders of groups became easy targets. They turned into the highest-priority assassination candidates.
Why did I even leave the elders alive?
I had kept multiple elders as the highest decision-makers, like a council, so the risk would be shared like meat shields. Turning me into a person of interest would ruin that. If I became the second Pastor, any attack on the Hope Church would start with me. Of course, having many leaders also increased the danger of betrayal or internal sabotage, but if it came to that, I would be the one to strike first.
The Evangelist Elder smiled warmly.
“You’re too modest, Deacon Kwon. If only the security elder had even a fraction of your character…”
The mood grew heavy for a moment. It was because of that wicked security elder who had assassinated the Pastor to seize the church’s resources. The vicious man had even planned the perfect crime by removing the bullets from the Pastor’s pistol.
Jeon Dohyeong’s legs trembled from the shock of his shattered faith. I clasped my hands and prayed.
“Though the Pastor has passed on, we remain. Let us carry forward the hope he dreamed of.”
“That’s right… Even without the Pastor, we have to keep going for the sake of the families left behind.”
The Evangelist Elder handed me the posters. Na Yeji had poured her effort into them; they had the feel of public service announcements. There was no cross. Instead, they introduced the Hope Church or offered practical information—farming with plastic bottles, using torn-up paving blocks as throwing weapons, planting potatoes or turnips in bare soil.
“Rather than focusing on evangelism or recruitment, we decided to introduce ourselves to the people nearby.”
We headed toward the chapel. As we walked, the Evangelist Elder described the outside world.
“The world wasn’t like this even a month ago…”
The streets he described were practically apocalyptic. Roads filthy with trash and waste. Shattered first-floor windows and car windows—whether broken by zombies or criminals. Humans roaming around armed with makeshift weapons. The police, who had banded together after being attacked by lunatics hunting for firearms, no longer seemed interested in maintaining order at all.
Above all, zombies were everywhere. Citizens had changed too, of course.
“Maybe because the world has grown so harsh, all sorts of vigilante groups have sprung up. The shopping districts have huge merchant associations, every apartment complex has its own safety guards, plus the Delivery Vigilantes, archery clubs—anyway, I spoke with all those kinds of people while I was out.”
I nodded. This had been in the professor’s materials as well. In the early stages of the apocalypse, people would form all kinds of organizations. And when so many groups competed for limited urban resources, conflict was inevitable.
“By any chance, do you think we could buy bows from the archery club?”
“I asked. They said absolutely not.”
What a shame. Silent bows. Arrows that could become biochemical weapons with nothing but zombie saliva or blood on them. If the archery club members armed themselves with virus-coated arrows and attacked, there would be no defense.
I suddenly pictured a porcupine. They need to be armed with dangerous weapons so they won’t dare fight. At the very least, they mustn’t even consider attacking our church base.
Sprinklers? An engine-driven water pump and a tank filled with water soaked in zombie corpses. Wide-area spray. Wouldn’t that be perfect for threatening invaders? Or was it still not enough compared to the threat of immediate death?
By then we had reached the chapel. The Evangelist Elder and I sat in the front rows, waiting for the other elders who would return once they finished their tasks. I waved Jeon Dohyeong and Na Yeji away.
“Go back to work now.”
“It’s my day off. Can’t I watch the meeting?”
“Hey, let’s go. If you hang around here for no reason, he’ll just give you another job.”
Jeon Dohyeong dragged Na Yeji off. There was something almost desperate in the way he moved, but I told myself it was my imagination.
The Evangelist Elder chuckled.
“That Na Yeji… she was so depressed after losing her friend, but she seems much brighter now. I’m glad.”
“Time heals, I suppose.”
Soon the other elders trickled in after finishing their work. The Administrative Elder arrived first, carrying documents.
“I’ve finished the headcount, assigned rooms, and made the night-watch schedule. The demanding people nearly drove me crazy.”
The community had transformed into something like military barracks. Next, the sly-looking Thief Elder entered with an expression that suggested he was dead on his feet.
“I’ve listed all the stockpiled food. Also went outside and bought various things.”
When he said “various things,” he glanced at me, hinting that he had obtained what I’d requested—things like an oil extraction pump and a fingerprint flashlight.
“Why didn’t you call your daughter? You even gave her a pistol.”
“I did call. But it seems she’s already grouped up with her university friends. Good thing I gave her the gun.”
“Good thing? You nearly got framed as the culprit.”
We chatted like that for a while before the conversation turned serious.
“Our stockpiled resources aren’t exactly abundant. Even if we pay a fortune for delivery, the odds of it actually arriving are low. We’ll have to keep going outside.”
“The Delivery Vigilantes—those young people said they handle that sort of thing.”
“How can we trust them?”
I kept my mouth shut. Unless it involved core interests or safety, I had nothing to say. I didn’t want to stand out unnecessarily. Presence itself was a threat.
“There’s also the matter of washing. Even if we set up temporary shower stalls in the bathrooms, it’s still…”
“Can’t we convert an entire floor’s bathroom into a shower room?”
Various topics came and went. Finally the Evangelist Elder let out a long sigh.
“Above all, we have a serious problem. The people’s morale isn’t very high.”
“…Given how the Pastor died.”
Even the old grandmother had stepped down from her elder position and disappeared somewhere. That was how badly everyone’s spirit had been broken. They had been too demoralized to put up much resistance when the church was converted into a community. Most were people with nowhere else to go or those who stayed because of minor connections. There was no strong motivation.
I closed my eyes and pictured the Pastor. An outstanding leader, a master of presentation. Unfortunately he was no longer with us, so all I could do was pray for hope.
People with fallen morale, shaken faith, and faint cohesion. I needed a hope that could lift them up and bind them together as one.
For example, a zombie wave?
If they all joined forces to repel an attacking horde, it would probably do wonders for their mental health. After all, they say that to unite people internally, you need to create an external enemy.