The Three Problems
It was long after they had sealed the door that the inside of the gym finally began to feel like a space where one could at least catch their breath. No one had bothered checking the time on a watch. Most phones were powered off, and even if someone turned one on, the cold numbers on the screen would hardly match the distorted sense of time they were experiencing. Still, a rough estimate was possible. They had reached the gym, blocked the entrance again, laid the injured down, calmed the students who were crying or hyperventilating, and gathered what little water and snacks remained before the situation truly came into focus. At least an hour had passed—possibly closer to two.
In that time, Ha-neul, Chae-won, and Eun-ah had rescued the remaining students from the kendo club. Most of them were completely exhausted. Mats had been laid out across the center of the gym—normally used by the judo club or for physical education classes, now serving as makeshift resting areas. The injured and those in the worst condition were placed on them first, while the others naturally gravitated toward the flattest, softest spots available.
The second floor held spectator seating with windows overlooking the outside. Usually a place where students gathered to cheer during school competitions or events, it had now become an observation post. The gym also had showers and changing rooms attached. At first, that had offered a small measure of comfort—water, a place to wash, somewhere to wipe away blood and sweat. But the toilets were outside the gym. The moment that fact registered, the problem here became more than just keeping zombies out.
At first, no one wanted to bring it up. They had realized that civilization rested on far more trivial things than they had ever imagined: a bathroom just a few steps away after opening a door, water that flowed without thought, a place to discard waste, detergents and deodorizers to hide smells. Those things had been so ordinary that no one had ever consciously registered their existence. Yet now, with the school collapsed and corpses wandering the hallways, a single toilet had suddenly become central to survival.
When night fell and another day passed, people would need to excrete as much as they needed to eat. If they couldn’t solve that, the stench, contamination, shame, and conflict would pile up quickly.
Once the students had calmed down somewhat, they began their meeting. They hadn’t deliberately arranged themselves in a circle. Ha-neul, Chae-won, Eun-ah, Ju-ha, and Eun-jae had gathered near one wall of the gym, while the rest of the students sat or lay on mats a short distance away, watching with interest. They lacked the energy to join the discussion directly, but everyone was listening.
In this small gym, it was slowly becoming clear who held the center, who made the decisions, and who followed.
Eun-jae spoke first.
“Like I said earlier, we have to survive here from now on. But just closing the door and holding out won’t be enough for long.”
She held up three fingers.
“We have three immediate problems: food, hygiene, and security.”
The most critical issue was, of course, food. What they had secured so far was barely more than personal belongings—several chocolate bars rolling around in someone’s bag, snacks probably bought from the school store, half-drunk water bottles, a couple of soda cans, and a few triangle kimbap. Gathered together, it looked like a decent amount, but when counted out, it was absurdly little. Considering the number of survivors, it wouldn’t last more than a day—two at most, even if rationed carefully. That was assuming one meal per day.
Chae-won spoke up.
“There are a few places nearby where we can get food.”
She sketched a rough map of the school grounds on the gym floor with a board marker.
“The cafeteria, the school store, vending machines, and the teachers’ lounge.”
The cafeteria was in the building across the athletic field—a zone that had already become one of the most crowded areas alongside the main building. If the outbreak had started right after lunch, the cafeteria was likely just as devastated as the field or the main building. The school store would be the same. Where people gathered, zombies gathered.
“Let’s rule out the cafeteria for now,” Ha-neul said.
Her eyes still held the image of the athletic field she had seen through the window earlier—shadows staggering about, fallen corpses, zombies clustered around and tearing into bodies. Crossing that field to reach the cafeteria would be dangerous even alone, and far more so with a group.
Chae-won nodded.
“Right. We can’t go there yet. We might be able to hit the vending machines if the chance arises, but a proper supply run will need scouting tomorrow.”
Tomorrow.
The word landed heavily inside the gym. Until now, the survivors had been living moment to moment—closing doors, hiding, avoiding zombies, not getting bitten. But the mention of “tomorrow” made it clear that this situation might not end within the day. Someone quietly swallowed. A student sitting on a mat lowered their gaze. Yet they couldn’t simply ignore or avoid the discomfort. Surviving meant thinking about the next meal and the next day.
Next came the hygiene issue. This time, Ju-ha spoke.
“We have injured people, and there’s also the risk of infection from unsanitary conditions.”
Her voice remained as calm as usual, but it carried the cool detachment typical of someone with medical training.
“There are no toilets inside the gym. We have showers and changing rooms, but going all the way to the special building to relieve ourselves isn’t feasible. Every time we step into the hallway, it’s dangerous, and the ones in bad shape won’t be able to hold it.”
The students’ expressions hardened. The reality that they would have to leave the gym to use the bathroom was finally sinking in.
“There’s a temporary solution. We can secure a few buckets from the storage room and section off part of the changing room as a designated area. We can at least rinse with shower water. If we don’t manage the smell and contamination, things will get much harder very quickly.”
A heavy silence fell over the gym. It wasn’t just embarrassment. Until now, zombies, blood, injuries, and death had seemed like the biggest problems. Suddenly, the brutally practical question of “where and how do we relieve ourselves” had surfaced, driving home the fact that this disaster had shattered every aspect of daily life. The school building itself remained unchanged, yet the minimal framework that allowed humans to live like humans inside it had completely collapsed.
A low murmur spread among the students.
“In the changing room…?”
“In buckets?”
“How are we supposed to…?”
Eun-jae spoke firmly.
“This isn’t the time to feel ashamed.”
Her decisive tone silenced everyone.
“If you go outside and get bitten by a zombie, it won’t end with just embarrassment. If we want to live, we have to do this.”
Dignity was something one could afford to maintain only when there was room to spare. In a situation where survival came first, shame was nothing more than a luxury. Eun-jae’s straightforward delivery made the point all the more convincing. The students’ expressions remained complicated, but no one raised an objection.
The security issue was raised by Eun-ah.
“We need people to stand watch at night.”
She glanced toward the gym entrance.
“During the day it’s a little better, but when night comes, everyone’s tension will drop. If something gets in or there’s a commotion inside, everything will collapse right away.”
She suggested two-hour shifts. They quickly agreed that assignments should be based on combat ability, stamina, and composure. The first shift went to Ha-neul and Eun-ah, the second to Chae-won and Eun-jae, and the third to Ju-ha and one of the calmer students. Ha-neul listened to the roster and nodded without comment. She was the most reliable person in the gym when it came to dealing with zombies, after all. Being paired with Eun-ah wasn’t bad either—someone strong, not easily frightened, and used to pushing forward with sheer physicality would be genuinely helpful.
Once the watch schedule was roughly settled, Ha-neul and Chae-won went up to check the spectator seating on the second floor. Through the windows, the school athletic field spread out below. Outside, the sky had already shifted from late afternoon into evening. The field looked even stranger than it had during the day. Blood and corpses remained, but there was far less movement. At first, they thought it was just an illusion. But upon closer inspection, the zombies scattered across the field really were lying still, as if dead. Some had collapsed and weren’t moving at all. Others sat slumped near the pull-up bars with their heads bowed. Still others lay half-reclined in the shadows of the stands, completely motionless. From a distance, they looked like corpses that had been dead for a long time.
Chae-won muttered, “Are they resting?”
Ha-neul rested her hands on the windowsill and observed longer. After a few minutes, a pattern emerged in the stillness. When a sound like metal falling rang out in the distance, several of them lifted their heads at once. When the sound of a banner fluttering in the wind grew slightly louder, they reacted similarly. They remained completely still, as if dead, until a stimulus appeared—then they moved again, as though coming back to life.
“It looks like they’re conserving energy,” Ha-neul said. “When there’s nothing to eat, they just stop. Then when there’s sound or movement, they react again.”
If zombies weren’t simply wandering aimlessly but were instead reducing their activity and only moving in response to stimuli, the situation changed. The importance of minimizing noise became far greater. At the same time, it seemed possible that, with care, they might be able to slip through certain areas without alerting the zombies. But an even more shocking sight appeared shortly afterward.
At the edge of the field, beneath a basketball hoop, lay a zombie that had apparently tripped and struck its head against the pole. It looked as though it had died and could no longer move. Then two other zombies that had been staggering nearby slowly approached, lowered their heads toward the fallen one, and bent down. They began tearing into it.
Ha-neul’s eyes narrowed. She had already seen zombies devouring living people and corpses countless times. But this was different. The one being eaten was also a zombie—a zombie that could no longer move because something had gone wrong with its head. In other words, even completely dead zombies were treated as food by the others.
Chae-won murmured quietly, “So they can tell the difference.”
Ha-neul watched the scene in silence. Perhaps these creatures weren’t eating the living specifically, but rather any meat that wasn’t moving. Or maybe only raw hunger remained. Whatever the reason, the rule was what mattered. Even a completely dead zombie was treated as prey by them.
…If they cut up the zombies they killed with their swords and used the pieces as bait, they might be able to control the creatures’ movements.