The Night Visitor
I'd already scouted the area around Lee Soyeon's place more than once, but today it felt different. Why? Because the house I was heading for was one I'd bought myself.
A place stocked with a composting toilet and all kinds of supplies. There were snare traps set up there, too. A generator. Solar panels. The whole setup was the product of a simple desire: to live somewhere that still had electricity two years from now.
I slipped carefully into the house. The place I'd prepared was a multi-family dwelling with a yard — though calling that narrow strip a yard was generous. Still, I scaled the wall and dropped inside.
If everything I'd experienced so far held true, nothing would have changed.
"Who knew a German would actually sell night-vision goggles."
High-performance modern night vision was export-restricted in the United States. Having a seller who wasn't American made everything easier. I'd been hunting down arrows when these caught my eye.
"Alright. Let's see."
I strapped on the goggles, and the world resolved into that familiar dark-green wash I'd only ever seen on television.
"Damn. That's impressive."
I'd already swept the place once before. The only reason I was wearing these now was simple: multi-family housing. Even with solar panels on the first floor and the roof, zombies could still be lurking on the other levels.
I could bring Soyeon here and let her live a little more comfortably. Or, if this place turned out clean, I could install solar on her building instead and make life easier that way.
"Going to a lot of trouble just to break one woman."
I sighed and headed for the semi-basement.
"Let's finish this fast. Every risk factor has to go."
Not that I hadn't always been careful — but getting ambushed somewhere I'd thought was safe had rattled me more than I cared to admit.
I hadn't cleared every single house and storefront between here and the school. More importantly, both Soyeon and the school side had confirmed there was another faction out there. That alone demanded extra caution.
If there was another man out there as deranged about women as that teacher, he'd be an enemy the moment our paths crossed. And if those people were still alive, they might come after my women aggressively. All the more reason to stay sharp.
The traps were meant for zombies, but they might prove useful against human intruders too.
I moved toward the basement. The door was shut, of course. But a faint noise was coming from inside. Something was in there. Better to deal with it now.
I came back up the basement stairs and circled around to the semi-basement window. Living in a semi-basement meant the windows sat right at ground level — awkward in all kinds of ways. Curtains or coverings were mandatory. Put another way: those same windows were always a way in.
When I reached the window, I found iron bars mounted across it to keep people out.
"With those on, you can't even install a window AC unit."
I muttered the useless observation and shoved the tip of my crossbow through the bars, tapping it against the glass.
Footsteps approached almost immediately. Then came the familiar sound of a zombie.
"Hey!"
My voice carried through the dark. The window started rattling like something possessed.
"Kyaaaaah!"
"Hey! Come on out!"
I kept baiting it. Moments later, glass shattered, and the zombie's body thrashed against the bars.
"Perfect."
Go on — break yourself free for me...
I raised the crossbow to aim — and then a sharp, ominous crash rang out above me.
"Shit—!"
Something dropped beside me. I already knew what it was. At times like this, there was only ever one thing that fell from above.
"Guaaah!"
I swung the crossbow toward its skull in a single motion.
"Kyaaaaak!"
The window zombie was thrashing with its entire body now, tearing through both the glass and the iron bars. My finger squeezed the trigger. The first bolt took the one that had dropped. But in that same instant, the window zombie hauled itself upright.
"!"
I needed to reload — and of course my fingers fumbled. I steeled myself for close combat. One-on-one, I could— wait.
The zombie was behaving strangely. It swung its head left and right, failing to lock onto me even though I was right in front of it.
"..."
I remembered the bicycle light going out — how the zombie had stopped reacting the moment the light died.
These zombies attack based on what they can see.
The eyes were the key.
I stayed still. The thing peered around for a few seconds, then finally looked my way.
"...."
"...."
A beat of silence. Then both of us dropped into attack stance without a word.
"Kyau!"
"You son of a bitch!"
But its burst of speed was faster. My bat cut empty air, and the zombie landed on top of me.
"Kyaa! Kyau!"
It tore at me in a frenzy. I threw up my arm, letting the bite-resistant gauntlet take the hits. The sound of teeth grinding against the plating was vicious. In that opening, I drove my third weapon — a custom knife — straight into its skull.
The zombie went limp with a heavy thud. It collapsed across me, and I kicked the body off.
"Hoo. That's better."
Without the anti-bite gear, even a one-on-one would have been brutal. The zombies from games and movies went down with a single headshot. These things felt more like feral animals every time I faced them.
I kicked the broken glass aside and stepped into the semi-basement the creature had wrecked. A wide room opened up — classic old semi-basement layout — thick with the stench of rot. Something grotesque clung to the wallpaper, whatever was left of it.
"Mold."
I knew the type. I'd lived in a semi-basement myself. Dampness and bugs came with the territory.
I cleared the interior all the way to the front door. Nothing. Confirmed empty, I moved up to the next floor.
The first floor — the one where I'd stashed everything. Past the composting toilet, I climbed up and pulled out the key.
"The landlord's home. Of course I've got the key."
I held keys to every unit in the building. I'd bought the whole place, after all. Everything except the semi-basement. Why leave that one out? A landlord-tenant dispute. Money issues. We'd been about to settle it and get the tenant out — then the fourth expedition hit before we could finish.
"Good. This floor's clean."
I searched the entire three-story building room by room. Aside from one or two corpses, no more zombies.
"Whew."
Now for the main event: the rooftop. That was where the power supply waited — the thing I'd been looking forward to most. The only place in this dead city that could still produce light.
"Solar... as long as the panels aren't cheap Chinese junk."
As long as they worked, I didn't care. I opened the door, and there they were — solar arrays packed across the rooftop structure, facing south. Rated at 3,000 kWh, enough to cover about 300 kWh per household at installation. Realistically, only the first floor would be drawing power, so there should be plenty of surplus.
The real question was whether any charge was still stored. Two years of sitting untouched, unnoticed. Was it still functional?
Even thinking about it raised the same nagging doubt. I couldn't help it. On a hunch, I tried the first-floor switch.
Click.
Light flickered a few times.
"Oh..."
Then pitch black again.
No stored power? That didn't make sense — not if the system had been running.
"Same as everything else I installed. Two years, and nobody noticed any of it? Nobody even registered it was there?"
Which meant there was a high probability none of it had existed during that time at all. I'd already started piecing this together from earlier experiments, and looking at it now only made the pattern clearer.
The condition seemed to be that I had to verify it myself. In other words — when I crossed into the future, things I'd installed two years earlier only manifested once I confirmed them?
"Ugh. My head hurts. Why am I even thinking about this? Just treat it as a tool that exists and move on."
Right. No more overthinking. Frame it simply: whatever I install at a given point in the past rewrites itself into the future from that moment. That was easier on the mind.
I set aside the disappointment over the power and checked my stockpile. The quantities hadn't changed. Everything was exactly as I'd left it.
I deliberately grabbed bottled water, toothpaste, and soap, then headed back to Soyeon's place. I'd already confirmed her bathroom supplies were nearly gone, so this killed two birds with one stone.
I walked in wearing a carefully crafted look of surprise.
"Soyeon. Look at this."
She was lying on the sofa, gazing up at me with no strength in her eyes. Then she saw the toothpaste and the water jugs, and those languid pupils went wide.
"Where did you find those?"
"Raided a house nearby. Amazing place. Food and water stocked to the ceiling. And get this — it's got solar panels installed."
That last part was the one I really wanted her to hear.
Soyeon sat up.
"Solar panels? Does that mean there's electricity?"
"Obviously. Looks like the owner turned, but whoever it was prepared thoroughly. I'm thinking of checking house by house from now on."
Of course I wouldn't. Only the places I'd set up myself were like this. This was how you planted the idea and led someone where you wanted them.
"It won't turn on right now, but I'll check again tomorrow during the day. If it works — what do you want to do? Move over there?"
"I don't know. Not yet..."
"Take your time thinking about it. Point is, if we need power, that place is an option."
I looked at her — and my eyes caught on the underwear I'd brought her earlier. I wanted to pin her down right then and there, but it was that time of the month. Before and after, she needed rest.
What was I supposed to do? Sit here staring at the meal in front of me and take care of myself? That felt pathetic.
Then Seol-hwa floated into my mind. If I didn't show up for a day, she'd start worrying. Since nothing was happening tonight anyway — I could go see her.
I'd planned to give Seol-hwa more recovery time, but this wasn't going to work.
"Soyeon. In that case, your husband is going to head out and start hunting around the clock."
"You're leaving?"
She pushed herself up a little. Huh. That reaction was different. I'd expected her to send me off quietly, the way she usually did.
"Well, it's not like there's much to do here. Would you rather I stayed?"
"..."
Soyeon looked away. God, she was cute.
"Alright. If my wife wants me here, I'll stay."
"No, I didn't—"
"It's fine. I'm staying right here."
I moved in beside her immediately, sitting at the edge of the sofa, locking eyes with my woman.
"..."
Neither of us spoke. We just looked at each other for a few seconds — and in that short span, my body was already moving.
I kissed her. Naturally. Probably the first real kiss between the two of us.
Soyeon's trembling hand brushed my chest, then jerked back as if she'd done something forbidden. I could feel it — and I could see it on her face. Unlike Seol-hwa, she kept her eyes open during the kiss, watching me.
Seol-hwa had blinked at me with earnest focus, as if giving herself over completely. Was this Soyeon's way of saying do as you like?
The thought that we'd gotten a little closer than last time sent a fresh rush of heat through my whole body. My tongue found hers, wet and yielding, coiling and sliding as if settling into a nest.
Soyeon was an actress. When it came to kissing, comparing her to Seol-hwa almost felt unfair. The way she wrapped around me, the way she answered — it was on another level entirely.
What had been something only I enjoyed was starting to feel like real sexual pleasure.
The deep kiss left me dazed, almost stripped of my senses. Then Soyeon pulled her face back. She wiped away the slick thread of saliva connecting us — and for a moment, she smiled.
"Your kissing... still a little clumsy. You're still just a kid."
In that instant, she was clearly the older woman — the noona looking down at me. That smile, that shift from passive compliance into something else entirely. I couldn't hold back. I climbed onto the sofa.
"I can't take it. Not when you say it like that. I want to get you pregnant."
"It's still... you know. That time."
Like I cared. Right now—!
My hands were on her body when a massive noise erupted outside.