The Crowbar and the Bats of Peace
I had gotten sucked into a zombie apocalypse novel. But when I stopped to think about it, there was one glaring problem. I didn’t have a weapon. Going back wasn’t that big of an issue. I could simply turn around and leave. On my way here I’d already smashed every single head I came across, so the path back should be mostly clear. Still, if I ran into even a few, I’d be forced to fight them bare-handed. That was why I’d stuffed a rock in my pocket, but the man spoke first.
“I saw you heading out with Yeji earlier.”
“Y-yes……”
“Would you like to rest at the house before you go?”
“No, I have a place to stay. By the way… ugh. Something I could use as a weapon……”
“There’s a metal crowbar in the security office.”
“Where?!”
“A-are you all right?”
No, I’m not all right. I’d screamed without thinking and now my entire body throbbed like it was on fire. Even so, the joy outweighed the pain. A metal crowbar. In a zombie apocalypse, that thing was pure gold. It had appeared exactly when I needed it most, like the world itself was handing me a gift.
From what he said, the man didn’t favor melee weapons anyway. His style was parkour—seizing high ground and pelting heads with rocks from above. That explained why he’d been lounging on top of the playground equipment.
“You really don’t need anything else?”
“No. And thank you for watching over Yeji. I should give you something in return, even if it’s small.”
“It’s fine. Just telling me about the crowbar is thanks enough.”
“Then… safe travels.”
“Yeah.”
The man broke into a run. He was limping, but at that pace he’d clearly reach home in under three minutes. The problem was me. Even though it was daytime, I still had to walk for a little over ten minutes in this wrecked body. Still, I didn’t feel like I was going to die. And once I gripped the crowbar, it felt like strength was surging back into me. It felt like it, anyway. The fact that it wasn’t actually surging made me want to scream.
“Waaaaaaaaah……”
I was feeling so pathetic that I finally broke down and cried. Still sobbing, I used the crowbar to crack open the heads of every zombie that approached, then staggered into the pharmacy. I treated my wounds while crying, dragged myself into the PC Bang, and collapsed face-first onto the bed. The moment I lay down the pain became so intense I couldn’t even curse properly. That fucking boxer bastard. Seriously.
When I regained consciousness, I couldn’t see anything in front of me.
“……Huh?”
No, when I blinked I realized it wasn’t blindness—it was just blurry from the pain. Add the dizziness and the fever, and of course nothing looked right. The sudden thought that I might actually die this time hit me like a truck. I crawled out of the room on all fours, drank water, and forced food down first. Eating was obviously hell, but I shoved it in anyway because not eating felt like a faster way to die. After that I sat for a while winding the clock, then crawled back up to the pharmacy on all fours. I downed fever reducers and random medicines, applied fresh ointment to my wounds, and wrapped them in gauze. Only then could I finally stand and walk again.
“Ow, ow, ow……”
My condition was definitely serious. If it were up to me I would have pushed myself harder, but this was beyond pushing. So I grabbed a basin and a flashlight from the big stationery store, went back down to the PC Bang, and devoted myself entirely to recovery. I handled my business, ate proper meals. The fever was so bad I basically lived in my underwear. A long time passed like that—roughly five separate blackouts of five to six hours each. Only then did my body start to feel okay. Relatively okay, anyway. At least the fever had dropped enough that I could wear clothes again, so I decided to call that a win.
“Aaaah…… ugh… aaaargh……”
Forcing my boiling-hot body to the pharmacy for more fever reducers and antibiotics was the same. Groaning while I checked my wounds was the same. The injuries were healing at a surprisingly fast rate, but moving my arms and legs still hurt like hell. It felt like I’d need one more long faint before I was completely back to normal. In the meantime the food supply in the PC Bang had been completely wiped out. No surprise there. I’d been devouring snacks and bread like a starving ghost. The fact that anything had lasted this long was the real miracle.
“Fuck.”
I staggered upright and examined my right palm. The hand that had been skewered clean through now only had a small hole left. Just eating, applying medicine, and sleeping had healed it this far. Come to think of it, I was moving relatively well now.
“Hup.”
Correction. The instant I absentmindedly braced my right hand against the wall, a sharp jolt of pain shot through me. But I had to move now. I couldn’t afford to collapse over something like this. What did I need to do? Corpse cleanup, obviously.
If zombies didn’t drag the bodies away, the corpses gradually turned into something like soil. That soil grew plants that lived in symbiosis with zombies. Those plants raised bugs that also lived in symbiosis with zombies. So I had to clear the corpses early. Which meant forcing my wrecked, screaming body to haul dozens of bodies outside and burn them.
“Waaaaaaaaah… Mommmmm……”
Of all days, I’d spotted mold growing in the pharmacy today, so I couldn’t put it off any longer. I had no choice but to cry like a literal child calling for her mother. While I was sobbing, I accidentally brushed something with my right hand, cursed violently, and forced myself up. Fuck, that hurt like a bitch. I decided that the next time I met that Poisoner I was killing him first, and started moving the corpses.
The plan was simple. I’d throw them out the first-floor hallway window and burn them there. Zombies just charred when they burned; the fire didn’t spread. Why? Because the story wouldn’t let it—otherwise fire attacks would be too strong. Thinking about it, that was bullshit too. Goddamn author bastard.
“Huuuugh……”
I grabbed the nearest corpse with both hands and dragged it. Using one hand would have been less painful, but it would have slowed me down. No matter how much it hurt, both hands it was. And so the tear-soaked labor began. Thankfully—whether from getting used to it or from my body growing stronger during recovery—hauling the corpses became a little easier. Easier, not easy. When I finally finished, I was panting like I’d run a marathon. I sprawled out on the hallway floor like a starfish, stared at the ceiling for a while, then got up and opened the window.
“Fuck.”
Everything went dark again. I decided to put something in my stomach first, ate at the convenience store, and came back. The mountain of corpses still made my vision swim. Still, delaying would only make it worse, so I quickly started tossing bodies through the open window. Once they were all outside, I lit a lighter and dropped it down. Just in case, I took the crowbar and a fire extinguisher outside with me so I could put any runaway flames out immediately.
“Wow, I could really go for some roasted sweet potato right now.”
The zombies were tangled together, burning. The sight made me want to grill anything, but I held back. Later I could probably roll a drum barrel into this empty lot, fill it with all the unused flammable junk, and turn it into a proper incinerator. Roast corn, roast sweet potatoes, roast potatoes. Potatoes and kimchi with a bowl of rice would go down so fast. But there was nothing I could do about it right now. I waited until the zombies were fully burned, then went back inside.
The metal crowbar I’d taken from the security office had one flaw. It was rusted, so its durability was trash. Everything else about it was perfect. When I tested it on a corpse, the end chipped a little. Looked like I’d have to leave it and get a new bat. Luckily the big stationery store sold baseball bats. Only five of them, but five was plenty.
“Maybe I should give them names.”
Something peace-oriented felt right. So I kindly named them from first to fifth: Conversation. Peace. Cooperation. Negotiation. And finally, Kindness. I laughed at how much of a pacifist I was turning into, picked up one of the bats, and headed out. My body felt decent enough now that I decided to explore the upper floors—from the third to the seventh. Four whole floors.
“Fuck.”
Four floors. My vision went dark again. Clearing the first and second floors had been brutal enough. Now I had to do that same hell twice more. But safety was better than risk. I slapped my cheeks a couple times to wake myself up, took a deep breath, and pushed forward. My condition wasn’t perfect, but I could move well enough.
“………………”
The third floor had an English academy, another stationery store, and a coin karaoke place. My breath caught. I wanted to curse my past self who had laughed while climbing the stairs because there were no zombies on them. At least the English academy was manageable. After I killed the first zombie that appeared, no others came out. I searched every room, decided it was safe, and moved up to the fourth floor. The coin karaoke felt too creepy, so I saved it for later.
The fourth floor was one giant gym, and it was completely empty. The reason became obvious immediately.
“It was a holiday when the outbreak hit, so they never opened.”
I could break the door down after I’d cleared the building of zombies. Thinking I’d be able to do higher-intensity workouts from now on, I went back down to the third floor. Once I cleared the coin karaoke, I figured it would be a good time to rest. The place looked clean inside, so hopefully nothing terrible had happened there.