The Canary's Song (2)
Namhangang Bridge.
Though the name sounded grand, the reality was far more modest—a two-lane bridge barely stretching over two hundred meters. Nothing remarkable at all.
East of the bridge lay Wonju in Gangwon Province; to the west, Chungju in North Chungcheong. At the eastern end of Namhangang Bridge, now blocked by barricades and oil drums, three soldiers stood watch.
“This is bullshit, seriously……”
Sergeant Jo, positioned in the center of the trio, lowered his binoculars and muttered a curse. Spending the entire day anxiously scanning the same unchanging landscape was exhausting enough, but the relentless river wind never gave him a moment’s peace.
“Ugh, it’s freezing…… damn it.”
He removed his helmet and irritably rubbed his forehead, which had grown ice-cold. His head throbbed, and every joint in his body ached. For the past five weeks, he had stood guard on this bridge eight hours a day without moving, exposed to the late-autumn wind.
Whooooosh—!
Even as Bamtol grumbled, the wind sweeping down the Namhangang River slipped through his collar. With no tall buildings nearby to break the airflow, the cold gusts had free rein. Oil drums and steel barricades offered little protection.
Staying inside a vehicle would shield them from the wind, but too many incidents of nodding off had led to a strict ban on the practice. They had survived the horrific battles of the massive zombie outbreak last summer; none of them wanted to become zombie food while dozing.
For reasons unknown, the zombies moved in groups both large and small, constantly circling in widening patterns. Eventually, hordes from other cities would reach this place.
“See, didn’t I tell you, Sergeant Jo? We should’ve just stayed at the rooftop of our temporary barracks instead of coming all the way out here…… *sniffle*.”
Private Kim I-byeong, scanning the opposite direction from the left, spoke up. His voice was thick with a cold, making it unpleasant to listen to.
The “temporary barracks” he referred to was the three-story motel Burongjang, about three hundred meters behind them. It was one of the taller buildings in the area, and its facilities were decent enough to serve as a place to sleep and rest between shifts. Bamtol frowned.
“How many times do I have to tell you the view from there is terrible? You idiot.”
“I could see everything just fine, Sergeant Jo. Why do you keep saying it’s no good…… *sniffle*.”
Private Kim swallowed hard and grumbled again. Even with a thick civilian parka layered under his military jacket, the cold still seemed to reach him.
Bamtol’s face twisted in frustration. How much more patience would it take to get through to this man?
“Hey, you moron……”
He struck the barricade he had been leaning against and raised his voice.
“If we’re up there, this bridge creates a massive blind spot! We wouldn’t even notice if a horde of zombies passed right underneath. And this bridge and that motel are at least three hundred meters apart—maybe three hundred fifty. The rooftop is basically four stories high! Do you get what that means? If we spot zombies from the rooftop, we’d have to run down the stairs and then sprint another three hundred fifty meters to get here! Think about how long that takes! Even at a dead run, it’s at least a minute! You know damn well how long a minute feels when your life’s on the line, you little shit!”
“Eh…… is the difference really that big? *cough*!”
Private Kim, still sniffling, stared blankly as he tried to calculate, then turned to Bamtol with a resentful look.
“But zombies barely ever come here anyway. It’s too cold on this bridge, Sergeant.”
“Yeah…… they barely come.”
That much was true, so Bamtol nodded helplessly and turned his gaze across the two-lane bridge.
Whooooosh—!
Beyond the western end of the bridge spanning the Namhangang stretched endless, barren fields and mountains of Chungcheong Province, their grass faded to a dull yellow. Scattered houses were the only signs of habitation, making both corpses and zombies rare sights—for now.
That was a relief. If this had been a hotspot for zombies, they almost certainly wouldn’t have survived this long. But……
“Still, once the zombies come, that’s it. No amount of begging or bargaining will buy us another chance. So stay sharp!”
Bamtol pulled his civilian neck warmer tighter around his throat and raised the binoculars to his eyes. Zombies didn’t stick to roads, so he had to scan every inch of the bleached mountainsides as well.
“Ah……!”
Private Kim answered in his congested voice. His obedience was almost endearing, so Bamtol gave the back of his helmet a light tap.
Though the man constantly whined, exaggerated every hardship, and was clumsy at everything, at least he was honest and knew how to follow orders. As long as they were together, Bamtol didn’t have to worry about getting shot in the back. In this insane world where fragging could happen at any moment, that alone was an enormous advantage. His terrible marksmanship, however, still needed work……
“Sergeant Jo, it’s five minutes before noon.”
Private First Class Cha, posted on his right, tapped his wristwatch.
“Already? Time flies.”
Bamtol scratched his forehead awkwardly and looked between the two privates.
“I’ll be right back after the radio check. Keep your eyes on the front. No slacking.”
“Yes, sir! Safe travels, Sergeant Jo!”
The two answered in unison.
Thud—! Thud—!
Bamtol strode quickly along the road. Passing a sign that read “Welcome to Wonju, Gangwon Province,” he was met by a ghostly landscape devoid of people. The area had always been remote; even the cars blocking the road were few in number.
Clack—!
After walking about thirty meters, Bamtol opened the door to a container box housing the wired field telephone. The inside was just as frigid, with no heating whatsoever.
“Humans really are resilient…… Or maybe it’s just our brigade that’s tough?”
Staring at the magnetic telephone on the table, Bamtol muttered to himself. The communication line running from the phone stretched over twenty kilometers to Mokgye. From there, another line extended all the way to Chungju.
Altogether, the distance from here to Chungju Headquarters exceeded thirty kilometers. Laying communication lines across that distance. Completing such work in just a few weeks under these dire conditions—while fighting zombies—was still hard to believe.
Clack—! Ring—! Ring ring—!
Bamtol lifted the receiver and cranked the lever beside the phone. After a moment, a voice answered from the other end.
-Communication security! Mokgye GOP!
“Buron-myeon GOP. Routine noon report on November 30th. All clear on duty.”
Bamtol recited the now-familiar lines clearly. After a few seconds of transmission delay, a reply came through the receiver.
-Good work! Buron-myeon GOP noon report confirmed clear. Next routine report at 1800 on November 30th!
The response was just as routine.
“1800 report schedule confirmed! Loyalty!”
After the greeting, Bamtol ended the brief radio check by hanging up the receiver.
“Whew……”
Having completed his task, Bamtol rubbed his eyes and stepped out of the container.
Whooooosh—!
The cold wind he had momentarily forgotten rushed to greet him. He turned his head and gazed at the drying fields and mountains of early winter.
Chirp chirp—! Chirp chirp—!
Birds called from the distant mountains, but no other signs of life could be heard.
The eastern end of Namhangang Bridge in Buron-myeon, Wonju—thirty-five kilometers from Chungju. Within a twenty-kilometer radius, the only living people were the nine men of their squad. With three-man rotations, he could only talk face-to-face with two others at a time. Compared to this, even the outer guard units at the Jamsil Shelter seemed lively and entertaining.
How had they ended up in a place like this……
Bamtol pressed a hand to his forehead and let out a deep sigh.
Canary.
That single word summed up their squad’s situation most precisely. Like the canaries that sang for miners deep within coal mine tunnels.
It was an old story, but if the caged canary brought into the mine stopped singing and died, it signaled the miners to evacuate. It meant the air was running out.
Their squad’s mission was no different. If the four daily routine reports sent every six hours from this position ceased, Mokgye GOP would assume they had been wiped out and send an emergency alert to Chungju Headquarters about a zombie wave approaching from the northwest.
And perhaps…… a helicopter would be dispatched to check on them. There was always the possibility that the communication line had simply been cut rather than the squad being overrun.
Of course, Bamtol’s squad of nine wasn’t the only one enduring this.
Along the perimeter of the large circle centered on Chungju, nine other canary teams like theirs were scattered. Given their inability to freely deploy helicopters due to maintenance and fuel issues, this was the most efficient tactic that guaranteed the safety of the majority. The soldiers assigned to the canary role were lonely, cold, bored, and terrified—but that was the price.
“Just three more weeks and this hell will be over for a while.”
Bamtol pulled a small scrap of paper from his uniform pocket and reignited his resolve. Five of the eight weeks on the calendar he had drawn by hand were marked with heavy X’s in pen.
The deployment period for canary squads was roughly two months—exactly eight weeks. After completing those eight weeks, they would be granted relatively safe postings within Chungju city for the next eight weeks, allowing them to rest. Once their eight-hour shifts ended, they could talk freely with others, and if capable, even pursue relationships with civilian women.
“When we get back next time…… I should find a girlfriend too.”
Retracing his steps, Bamtol muttered to himself. But deep down, he knew it wouldn’t be easy.
Over four months and nearly half a month since the zombie world had begun, the survivors who had made it to Chungju—civilians and soldiers alike—were all on edge, their nerves razor-sharp. One moment they could be chatting normally with smiles, and the next, some hidden trigger would cause all the accumulated stress to explode, turning them into strangers in an instant. He was no exception, and neither were the women. Relationships were anything but simple.
“……I’m telling you, you’re so damn stubborn, you little shit!”
“……What do you mean stubborn? I’m just stating my opinion, aren’t I?”
As he neared the bridge, the bickering voices of Private First Class Cha and Private Kim reached his ears. They seemed to have a serious disagreement, both visibly agitated.
“No, damn it! If you’re gonna have an opinion, at least make it make sense! You keep spouting crazy talk, so of course I’m pissed!”
When Private First Class Cha raised his voice, Private Kim shot back without backing down, his congested tone defiant.
“Why am I crazy? Huh? Then does that mean the twenty million people who agree with me are all crazy too?”
“Twenty million, my ass! Are you insane? This country doesn’t even have twenty million people left! How the hell can twenty million people share your opinion?”
“It used to! And…… *sniff*!”
Private Kim inhaled sharply through his nose and continued his rebuttal.
“Worldwide, I still think twenty million is plenty! No, I’m sure of it! Don’t try to shut me down with rank! That’s not fair!”
“……You two are out of your damn minds.”
Watching from ten meters back, Bamtol clicked his tongue. He had no idea what they were arguing about, but they were now facing each other with fire in their eyes.
“Hey! Hey!”
Bamtol clenched his teeth and shouted to cut off their argument.
Whoosh—!
At the sound of his voice, both soldiers quickly put distance between themselves and turned their gazes in opposite directions, as if they had been diligently standing watch the whole time……
“What the hell is wrong with you two?”
Approaching the two privates, Bamtol spoke in a weary tone.
“How could you start slacking the second I step away for five minutes? Huh? Have you only been in the army for a day or two? Who said you could argue while on watch duty? We’re in a situation where we need to trust and rely on each other, and you’re picking fights instead? You idiots! You’re not even watching the front properly! If you’re gonna act like this, why bother standing out here in the freezing wind? Just play around inside! Huh? You’ve got enough experience to know better!”
“No…… Private First Class Cha keeps trying to force his one-sided views on me……”
When Private Kim pointed at Private First Class Cha with an aggrieved expression, the latter quickly covered his mouth and bowed his head.
“We won’t fight, Sergeant Jo! I’m sorry.”
“Haa……! What was it?”
Bamtol sighed and asked.
“Let’s hear why you were getting so worked up. If it’s something I can fix, I’ll fix it.”
In an environment like this, reconciling the soldiers was crucial. Keeping their sharp edges sheathed and fostering mutual respect…… Just as Bamtol reached that thought, Private First Class Cha, still hesitant, pointed at Private Kim.
“It’s not anything big…… Private Kim over there…… keeps insisting that Pink Punch’s best song is QL.”
“QL? You’re asking for it! Come here, you little shit!”
Before Private First Class Cha even finished snitching, Bamtol delivered a sharp flick to the top of Private Kim’s helmet.
“Ow! Sergeant Jo! Careful! My autograph!”
As Bamtol’s fist brushed past, Private Kim yelped and hurriedly removed his helmet to check if his precious autograph had been damaged. Fortunately, the magic-marker words “Deadeye Jinwoo” remained intact.
“No…… please be careful, Sergeant Jo! This…… you can’t get a special forces autograph again, you know?”
Private Kim grumbled in his congested voice, clutching his helmet like a sacred talisman. Bamtol snorted dismissively.
“If you don’t want to get scolded, stop being stubborn. Pink Punch’s number-one hit is Happy Girl! That’s the national rule! Official!”
“Wheee……! Wheee……! Wheeeee……!”
Having gained Bamtol’s support, Private First Class Cha whistled the intro and teased Private Kim. But Private Kim remained unshaken.
“A hit song and a masterpiece are different, Sergeant Jo.”
“Hey! The song that gets the most public love is the masterpiece! Why else would it be a hit?”
Bamtol replied half-heartedly while scanning the front with his binoculars. Thankfully, there were no signs of zombie intrusion despite the commotion.
“Have you ever been to a Pink Punch concert? Can you say that after hearing them live?”
Private Kim asked. Bamtol shook his head.
“I’ve been to concerts, but I never saw that song performed live after I enlisted.”
“Ah…… then I understand. You’re saying that because you don’t know.”
“What?”
In an instant, Bamtol found himself labeled as someone lacking understanding of Pink Punch and frowned. Most soldiers would have backed down by now, but Private Kim pushed to the end. He was a troublemaker, after all.
“I am somewhere……♪ You are somewhere else…… there♬…… That’s enough for me……♪ That gives me strength…….♬”
Private Kim began singing in a thin, nasal imitation of Pink Punch. His eyes kept signaling to Bamtol, as if asking, “How about that?”—as though to say, “How can you not feel this emotion?”
“Ugh, cut it out! I’m already stressed enough……”
Even as Bamtol made his displeasure clear, Private Kim didn’t stop.
“♪……The starlight I see, maybe you see it too…… ♬The night connected by starlight…… My sweet kiss too…… carried on that light…….♪”
After hunching his shoulders and singing in an overly sweet voice for a while, Private Kim suddenly spoke with a serious expression.
“They sing this song at the very end of the concert, and by then it’s pitch black, right? All the stage lights go out. Then all you can see are the pink glow sticks we’re holding and Terra and Jenny. It’s like…… floating in space, connected…… and then tears just start flowing and your chest trembles…… That feeling lasts for months. After the concert, I listened to QL on infinite loop for two weeks straight. I’d close the blackout curtains in my room, turn off all the lights, wave a glow stick, and sing along quietly.”
“Hey, you stubborn idiot! Give it up already! They didn’t even make a music video for that song! You know what that means? They didn’t expect it to be a hit!”
Unable to hold back any longer, Private First Class Cha shouted as if he had forgotten Bamtol’s presence entirely. Bamtol sighed and placed his hands on his hips.
“Haa, you two really are hopeless……”
Though Private Kim had crossed the line, arguing so heatedly over such a minor difference of opinion was a serious issue. If he didn’t give them a taste of discipline now, the conflict would only grow worse.
“Private Kim.”
Bamtol pointed at Private Kim, then gestured toward the makeshift vinyl greenhouse set up in the empty lot behind them.
“Pull out two radishes and wash them within five seconds. Move!”