New York, New York
At first, it wasn't anything so concrete as a plan. But the longer I farmed, the clearer the blueprint became—where every last piece would go, and exactly what it would do.
I started with the cable I'd hauled out of the villa, cutting it and splicing the lengths together. Out came a clothed mannequin. I wired a bucket hat onto its head; cover the face, and it would be that much easier to mistake for a person. The cable went around the torso and locked tight. Christmas-tree lights went over the whole body. Batteries into the light case, and that part was finished.
Next, the mini car. Batteries in. A noisemaker toy fixed on top.
Hoo. Prep's done.
I slipped out of the shop, then ducked into a stationery store and came back out with a mini-car track and a chair.
The target was KC Bank. My first act of patriotism, and my last: rob the place, farm every bill I could carry, and get out. That was the final objective.
The problem was that important sites like banks came with Stage 2 zombies.
Which is why I set this up.
First I hurled a stone-weighted cable at the traffic light over the road.
Whirik—
It caught on the first throw. On the other end hung the mannequin, blazing with light. I tied the stone end off to a tree post on the sidewalk. First stage of prep, done.
Next was the little sidewalk mini-mart set up in front of KC Bank. I stepped onto the chair I'd brought, climbed onto the mart, and laid the track. Second stage, done.
Last was the bus stop in the middle of the road. I hauled a table out of a shop, set a chair on top of it, and climbed onto the shelter. Up there went the record player, already cued. Third stage, done.
"Hoo."
All that was left was to run it. Would it actually work the way I'd pictured? Nerves or excitement, I couldn't tell—my arms and legs wouldn't stop shaking.
I moved back to the track and switched on the noisemaker fixed to the mini car, then the car itself.
Bee-rorong, bee-rorong, pyorong. Whirrrrr!
The instant the power hit, the racket spilled outward. I set the mini car on the track, kicked the chair aside, and ran.
"Hoo. Hoo."
I caught the cable of the mannequin hanging from the traffic light and shoved it hard, hard enough for centrifugal force to spin it round and round.
"Kruk?!"
"Kwoooaaar!"
"Kweeeeh!"
"Krrrk!"
From the bank came the cries of a zombie horde.
"Hoo—hoop!"
Last of all I kicked off the table at the bus stop, scrambled up, and dropped the needle. Jazz poured out.
Bahm-bahm, bahm-ba-bahm!
Bahm-bahm, bahm-ba-bahm!
"Kraaaaaaaah!!"
"Keeeeeek!"
"Kuwoooooooor!!"
A chorus that raised the hair on my arms. As if the whole city were alive, answers came back from every direction.
CRASH!
The bank's floor-to-ceiling glass, unable to hold any longer, blew out.
"Kwaaaak!!"
"Kweeek!"
"Kwoooooor!"
A horde of Stage 1 zombies poured through at once. Some of them went for the mini car. A far larger mass swarmed the shining mannequin spinning in the air. It was like watching a school of piranhas.
Fuck.
If I'd been the one dangling up there? My knees went weak at the thought alone.
"Kwooooor!!"
"Keheuk!"
"Krururuk!!"
Zombies that had been hiding all over the city converged on the record player. Not one of them could reach the mini car, the mannequin, or the player. In that gap I melted into the dark and slipped behind a shop a little way off from the bank.
Kuoooooooooooh!!
Right on cue, a Stage 2 burst out of the bank—a massive, muscle-bound zombie in a bank security uniform.
Holy shit. He's insane.
In person, the presence was even worse. Was there a hunter alive who could fight something like that? Armor or no armor, one punch would crumple you like an aluminum can. Not that I had any intention of facing it. All of this had been to lure the thing in the first place.
THUD. THUD. THUD. THUD. THUD.
Footsteps that shook the ground. It charged in around the mini car, drew its fist back, and swung.
KWA-GWANG—!!!
The sidewalk mini-mart blew apart as if a truck had plowed straight through it.
Kwooooor!!
Even so, I still had plenty of bait left.
Strong as it is, it won't be able to pull that mannequin down.
Stage 2 or not, a zombie was a zombie. It would never think to figure out how to haul the thing down.
Krk?!
Just as I'd expected, it only stood on the sidewalk, staring blankly up. Ordinarily, in a situation like this, a Stage 2's aggro would drop and it would shamble back to the bank.
But.
Bahm-bahm, bahm-ba-bahm!
Bahm-bahm, bahm-ba-bahm!
The set wasn't over yet. Worse, the crowd that had gathered was throwing its hands up and belting along.
New York~ New York~
That was what held the security zombie's aggro. While the words New York rang through the heart of downtown Seoul—
Fast as I can!
I broke from cover beside the bank and slipped inside. The plan was simple: hit the ATMs and get out.
Yeah, I'm not smashing this.
Standing in front of one, breaking it open clearly wasn't going to work. More than anything, the noise might call the security zombie back.
This?
Looking closer, I found a keyhole.
A key. Find the key first.
And where would a key be? Surely not in the security zombie's inner pocket. I went in deeper.
The interior was a wreck. The horde must have torn through it on the way out. I ransacked the teller counters first.
Damn it, where is it?
In my hurry I clicked on the flashlight. The beam cut across the room, and in that light I found something.
An office. Maybe it's in there.
The moment I stepped inside, I saw it. A security key box. Locked, so I took the axe to it.
Kwajik! Kwajik!
I snatched up the ring of keys that spilled out with the shards and ran. The instant I was back at the machines, I shoved a key into an ATM and turned it.
Damn it. Next one.
The first key didn't take. Clunk. Clatter.
Got it!
The second one slid home. I yanked the door open.
What?
Inside sat another metal box, with a keyhole of its own. I hauled it out and tried the second key. No good. The first key went back in.
Click!
Yes!
Bills lay in a neat row inside the cartridge. No point eyeballing the amount—I swept the whole thing into my subspace backpack.
Three more!
I jammed a key into the ATM beside it.
"Hah. Hah. Haah. Hoo."
My arms and legs shook like I was gripping a power drill.
Ha. Crazy bastard. I actually pulled it off.
I got out clean. There was even more time to spare than I'd planned on. The security zombie, after a solid thirty minutes of enjoying the show, finally charged all the way to the bus stop in the middle of the road.
KWA-GWANG—!!!
The shelter came apart. Zombies swarmed the fallen record player, and under their feet it broke. The curtain came down on the performance.
Stupid thing.
In the end, the security zombie hadn't protected a thing.
And I got rich.
Only until I escaped the Tower. Still.
I ducked into an empty shop and dumped the bills across a table.
How much is all this?
Too much to count without effort. One thing was certain: it was more cash than I would see in my entire life.
The security zombie went back to the bank. The audience went home. Around then I took to the edge of the road myself, heading back. Not a petty thief. No—striding like a legendary phantom thief, and only because the hunter hyungs I'd run into had been kind enough to sweep the roadside clean.
Still. I need to get out soon.
After three hours, the zombies respawned. I had to be gone before then. About ten minutes of walking, and—
Finally.
Hongje Station.
What?
Footsteps, from below the station. Not a zombie's shuffle.
Is someone down there?
I went down the steps and found a person at the turnstile.
"Hello."
"Ah."
A startled little sound, as if my presence had caught her off guard.
"Yes. Hello."
A woman who looked to be in her twenties stood in front of the gate, uneasy on her feet.
Of all things. A woman, in the Tower.
I'd barely ever heard of a female hunter. She didn't even look like one.
"Um, excuse me."
"Yes?"
"Would it be all right if I went in first?"
"Ah. Yes. Of course."
She hesitated, that anxious look still on her face, then stepped through the turnstile. A public exit could be shared. It didn't matter who went in first. Thirty seconds after you entered, you were gone.
But.
19 / 18
Capacity exceeded.
"Huh?"
When I stepped closer, a blue hologram rose into the air.
"Um, the... the number of people who can escape is already full."
"What?!"
I've never heard of anything like this.
No. I had, vaguely. It just hadn't meant anything. Public exits did have a capacity, but plenty of people used a private exit, so a full public one almost never happened. And yet, by rotten luck, it seemed only one person this run had taken a private exit.
Then why not leave through one myself? Because a private exit closed after thirty minutes. I couldn't use one anymore.
"I-I'm sorry. Please don't attack me...."
If I attacked her, the timer would reset.
"N-no. Why would I...."
"My mom's really sick, so I came in to get her medicine. Please!"
No bag. She was clutching all kinds of medicine bottles against her chest. It was true that medicine inside the Tower worked better.
"I-I'm not going to attack you."
"Oh, thank goodness. I'm sorry."
She bobbed her head, apologizing over and over.
Then what happens to me?
Damn it. Damn it. Damn it. I should have gotten here a little sooner. No—then she wouldn't have made it out. That would've been a rotten thing.
Flash!
Before long, light wrapped around her, and she was gone.
"Ah, damn it."
The lights inside the station were clearly on. Even so, the world in front of my eyes went pitch black.