Canary's Song (7)
“What?”
Bamtol shook his head as if the very idea was ridiculous.
“No, sir. I don’t have any.”
“Do you smoke, though?”
Cho Cheol-woong asked as he opened a cigarette pack.
Gulp—!
Bamtol swallowed hard and answered.
“I’ve been voluntarily quitting for the past five weeks… but right now, I really want one.”
Of course, not everything had been accomplished through his own strength alone, but he had survived a life-or-death struggle, faithfully completed the mission entrusted to him, and on top of that, he had reunited with Agent Jinwoo after so long and heard news about Jenny and Terra.
A cigarette on a day like this would taste especially sweet. And if he could blow smoke while facing a lieutenant… even more so.
“Then smoke one!”
Cho Cheol-woong pulled out a cigarette, held it out to Bamtol, and even lit it for him with a Zippo lighter. Bamtol wondered if this was really okay, but he mustered his courage, took the cigarette between his lips, and lifted his head with dignity.
“Huuu…! Cough! Cough! Whoa!”
The moment he took a deep drag, a light wave of dizziness hit him. Bamtol coughed and staggered. After five weeks, the cigarette was far too strong. His vision blurred and his legs nearly gave out.
“Why the voluntary quitting?”
Cho Cheol-woong asked again, watching him with a relaxed cigarette between his own lips.
“They say cigarette smoke attracts zombies, and I figured there might be some passing right over the mountain… so I held back.”
“Guarding this place with so few men must have been incredibly stressful. Did the others not complain? It’s right by the river, so the wind probably helps carry it away.”
Cho Cheol-woong jerked his chin toward the squad members. Bamtol gave a small shake of his head.
“I didn’t force it on the squad. It was just… I didn’t want to cause trouble for the other soldiers because of me, so I made the decision alone.”
“This kid… seriously…”
Cho Cheol-woong smiled as if he found it adorable and pinched Bamtol’s cheek again, shaking it.
“You should’ve swapped ranks with that captain from earlier.”
Not understanding what he meant, Bamtol simply exhaled smoke in silence. The first few drags had been so harsh he nearly vomited, but now he was starting to feel like his old self again.
“Was the original total strength just nine men?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You’re performing such a dangerous border duty with only one squad, and they didn’t even issue you a single K-3 or K-4?”
“Because high-explosive ammo supplies have been cut off, we can’t use the K-4… And the K-3 is difficult to use due to ammunition supply issues as well.”
Bamtol answered honestly. The dire state of his unit was no longer a secret anyway. Cho Cheol-woong pointed at the Black Hawk that had just swept over the mountain and returned.
“The guy riding that thing said… we should contact them in advance so the soldiers in Chungju don’t get startled. What do you use for communications?”
“There’s a magnetic telephone installed inside the container box on the left side of the bridge. Lifting the receiver connects you directly to Mokgye GOP. From there, they can reach the main force in Chungju.”
“You’re spilling everything to someone you’ve just met. Doesn’t it worry you that leaking information like this could become a security risk, Sergeant?”
Even when Cho Cheol-woong teased him mischievously, Bamtol didn’t waver at all. He exhaled the last drag of his cigarette before answering.
“This is my first time meeting you and the other special forces members, Lieutenant, but I don’t believe for a second that people moving with Agent Jinwoo would attack innocent people in Chungju. No, that’s not even it! I’m certain you’ve come to offer help!”
“You… would’ve done well even if you’d stayed a lifer.”
Having praised Bamtol in his own way, Cho Cheol-woong looked around and said,
“You’re right. If we can help, we should. But before that… how about you tell me how things actually run around here?”
“I’m not sure what kind of method you’re referring to.”
When Bamtol hesitated at the overly broad question, Cho Cheol-woong lightly flicked his fingers.
“Spill it all. From what your mission is, to how you prepare, how you engage in combat—everything. In detail…”
The one-armed guy had said that Chungju was running quite well… that they had built a surprisingly excellent system given the power they possessed. But the first scene Cho Cheol-woong witnessed upon arriving here felt completely at odds with that description. Nine soldiers being chased by hundreds of zombies… They were literally being thrown away like flies.
“The mission of our nine-man squad is to stay stationed at the Buron-myeon GOP for eight weeks, monitor the Namhangang Bridge for any zombies crossing it, and prevent their approach as much as possible…”
Bamtol began explaining his duties and defensive tactics with a mix of embarrassment and pride, speaking calmly.
He covered everything—from the three-man, three-shift rotation requiring eight hours of bridge watch each day, the rule of sending communication reports every six hours, the dispersal devices placed on the opposite riverbank to prepare for large zombie hordes, the barricades and traps installed on the bridge, the available escape routes, and finally how they had carried out today’s battle.
He hadn’t intended to talk for so long, but the special forces lieutenant kept interjecting with interested comments, so he couldn’t stop midway.
“Not bad. I can see you’ve been quite thorough. Some of the ideas are pretty interesting too.”
After Bamtol’s long explanation finally ended, Cho Cheol-woong rubbed his chin, creasing his brow. He could see the frugal, desperate attempts to prepare for the future with the absolute minimum of resources scattered throughout the tactics.
“But it’s hard to call it good. Above all, it’s far too harsh on the GOP soldiers themselves. Do you happen to know who came up with this operation? The person who came up with the idea of deploying these GOP units that you call ‘Canaries.’”
Cho Cheol-woong asked. Bamtol answered immediately.
“Yes, sir. I believe it was devised by Captain Moon, the commander of the outer perimeter security company.”
“Hoo…”
Cho Cheol-woong let out a complex sigh filled with mixed emotions and folded his arms. The one-armed guy had praised Captain Moon so highly as a man of character, yet here he was, establishing such inhumane operations and working the soldiers to the bone… His strategic mind was admirable, but his character was disappointing.
“You must have resented that Captain Moon quite a bit over the past five weeks.”
Cho Cheol-woong teased Bamtol in a joking tone. But Bamtol only widened his eyes in confusion.
“Not really…”
“You don’t have to lie just because I’m standing in front of you, Sergeant. If you don’t resent an officer who throws his men into a meat grinder like this while he himself lounges comfortably in Chungju with both legs stretched out, that would actually be stranger.”
Cho Cheol-woong patted Bamtol’s shoulder as if he understood completely. Bamtol hesitated for a moment with an expression that said, Do I really have to talk about this too? before opening his mouth.
“All nine forward GOP positions… Captain Moon personally stayed at each one for a full week. He cleared out the remaining zombies himself, then established detailed strategies suited to the troop size and terrain, and even built the defensive positions.”
“Hoo…!”
Another exclamation burst from Cho Cheol-woong’s lips. This “Hoo…!” carried an entirely different emotion from the previous one.
Spending one week at each of the nine GOPs meant at least nine weeks.
That alone was already longer than the deployment period for regular soldiers. When you factored in the initial preparations for planning the operations and the risks he had taken to clear out the remaining zombies… it could only be described as months of risking his life, leading by example, and devoting himself with genuine dedication to build this system.
He’s starting to grow on me.
Cho Cheol-woong smiled faintly and asked,
“So, where is your company commander right now?”
“Looks like there aren’t any large zombie groups nearby.”
The pilot muttered to himself as he scanned the area below. They had slowly circled the nearby hills, but no moving zombie hordes were visible.
“Let’s head back to where we were.”
The pilot glanced back at Mingu and Yubin to indicate his intention to return. When the two nodded, he immediately turned the nose of the aircraft.
Shwaaaaa—! Whump whump whump whump—!
The Black Hawk they rode crossed the mountain in low-altitude flight in an instant, cut across the wide plain, and passed over the Namhangang Bridge where countless zombie corpses lay scattered.
“Isn’t Lieutenant Myung’s piloting skills amazing? I thought you’d be pretty impressed, honestly?”
The special forces operator sitting in the front seat for the M240 gunner pointed at the pilot and asked Yubin. The pilot waved his hand as if to say stop it.
“Hey, hey! Why are you embarrassing me like that? I was selected for special forces with a helicopter pilot specialty, so of course I have to be at least this good.”
Even as he said that, Lieutenant Myung showed off by smoothly turning the aircraft in one clean motion and setting the Black Hawk down at the edge of the Wonju Finance and Accounting High School athletic field.
To be honest… I thought he was kind of bad…
Yubin muttered to himself. In his entire life, he had only ever ridden in helicopters flown by two people, and compared to Grandpa Paul, this special forces lieutenant flew in a very rough and crude manner. Experience really couldn’t be ignored. Even so, Yubin’s thumb was already shooting straight up toward the sky.
“You’re the best!”
“Hah! This kid knows what’s up. But you’ve still got a long way to go before you can be truly amazed. I’ll show you my real skills little by little from now on. Take it slow getting down. No rush.”
Lieutenant Myung winked, then shut off the helicopter’s engine. In truth, what had surprised Yubin wasn’t the pilot’s skill, but the fact that Lieutenant Cho had included a helicopter pilot in a Seoul detachment of only about twenty men. It meant that from the very beginning, his plan had included the scenario of seizing Yubin’s or another warlord’s helicopter if necessary.
“Yubin! You remember these guys, right? The ones who… told us that Terra had gone to Yongsan with Brother Mingu…!”
As Yubin stepped out of the helicopter and walked toward the trailer, Jinwoo greeted him with a happy voice and introduced Bamtol and the squad members. But the one who reacted first was Mingu.
“Brother Bamtol!”
Mingu, who had recognized Bamtol’s face even from a distance, rushed over and grabbed his shoulder.
“You’re safe! Well done!”
Bamtol, overcome with emotion, patted Mingu’s arm.
“Brother! You look healthy!”
Cho Cheol-woong, who had been talking with Bamtol, blinked in surprise.
“Is this a reunion or what? You all know each other?”
It wasn’t that strange that they all knew one another, but the notable part was how drastically different the levels of intimacy were between each member. While Jinwoo and Bamtol seemed to know each other a bit awkwardly, Mingu and Bamtol looked like they could die of happiness.
“These knives! These are the ones you saved for me that day. Thanks to you, I’m still using them well!”
Mingu pulled out the kukri from his knife holder to show him, and he didn’t stop there—he even took the machete out of his knife bag. Without these blades, it would have been hard to say whether he could have survived the chaos on the cruise ship that night.
“Oh, right!”
Bamtol nodded, looking extremely pleased. The two large blades were familiar weapons to him as well. The sight of Mingu cutting down zombies with that machete outside the Jamsil Shelter fence had completely captivated him. Now it felt like something from a very distant past.
“Hah! So that friend can make an expression like that too.”
Cho Cheol-woong watched Mingu’s brightly smiling face with interest. Although they hadn’t known each other long, the only side of the man he had seen until now was one that kept others at a cold, icy distance… But here, he looked almost innocent. Downright pure. It was worlds apart from that demonic smile he had worn when saying he would cut Captain Lee’s head in two.
“Is your side okay now, Brother Mingu?”
Bamtol asked worriedly. The fact that a man who seemed like the strongest swordsman on earth had suffered a near-fatal injury while trying to help him had always weighed on a corner of his heart like a debt. Of course, Bamtol’s own life had been so harsh that it would be a lie to say he thought about it often… but every once in a while, the guilt made him crave a cigarette.
“Oh, right! That wound! It’s completely healed now. Look. Here…”
Hearing Bamtol’s question, Mingu set down the knives, pulled up his shirt, and lifted it.
“Whoa! This… how is this even possible…!”
Bamtol couldn’t close his mouth at the sight of Mingu’s regenerated side muscles. For a moment he even suspected that his brother was showing him the opposite side to comfort him, but the faint burn scar still visible on the edge was unmistakably the mark left by the heated bayonet he himself had pressed against it.
“It’s a long story, but anyway, it’s all healed now. So you don’t have to worry.”
Mingu looked at Bamtol once more with a proud gaze. This kid was quite capable and clever, but nothing particularly outstanding. Yet it was clear just how desperately he must have struggled to survive until now.
“Alright, that’s enough of the family reunion. Let’s get moving. You too, Agent Park!”
Cho Cheol-woong clapped his hands sharply after giving Mingu and Bamtol enough time to catch up.
Agent… Park?
The moment that word left Cho Cheol-woong’s mouth, an image of himself being teased by these people for a very long time flashed before Jinwoo’s eyes. But the water had already been spilled.
“Keep up the good work from now on! Always stay careful! Let’s meet again, brother!”
Knowing there was a mountain of work to do today, Mingu didn’t insist and simply gripped Bamtol’s hand tightly.
“Ah, yes! Brother, it was great seeing you! Take care of yourself too! We’ll definitely meet again!”
Bamtol also put strength into their handshake and spoke with genuine feeling. For the two men who had saved each other’s lives, it was a painfully short reunion. Now that they had started coming and going, they would meet again, but in this damned world, there was nothing strange about one of them dying to monsters tomorrow.
“Cleaning up the zombie corpses and rebuilding the barricades will be tough, but from what I saw during aerial reconnaissance, it doesn’t look like any large zombie groups will be swarming in for a while. So you don’t have to worry about that part.”
Yubin passed on the information he had gained from the helicopter reconnaissance to Bamtol. Bamtol’s face brightened considerably, as if greatly relieved.
“The corpses… we can just load them onto a truck. Anyway, thank you again.”
“I don’t know the story behind why that knife-wielding friend is so happy to see you, but I’ve taken quite a liking to you as well.”
Cho Cheol-woong gave Bamtol’s stomach a light tap and asked,
“So I was thinking of giving you a gift. Do you have enough ammunition in stock?”
“No… not really.”
Bamtol’s voice suddenly dropped as he felt the cold wall of reality. It was good news that they had survived and there were no zombies nearby, but ammunition… was always running dangerously low. After firing so much today, only a few hundred rounds remained. Even if additional supplies came, it wouldn’t be much.
“Staff Sergeant Choi, take those kids and bring back two ammo cans.”
Cho Cheol-woong ordered Staff Sergeant Choi, jerking his chin toward the squad members. When the squad members returned from the helicopter carrying two 6,000-round ammo cans, Bamtol was at a loss for words.
“Lieutenant… th-this… Are you really allowed to give us this much?”
He had thought two ammo cans would amount to roughly a thousand rounds at most, but this was a full 12,000 rounds! This was enough to arm an entire company, not just a squad. Could they really accept such an enormous gift?
“It’s yours. Don’t save it and regret it later—use it freely and survive.”
Cho Cheol-woong lightly patted Bamtol’s cheek as if he were cute and gave his final instruction.
“Contact Mokgye GOP right away and let Captain Moon know we’re coming to see him.”
“Ah… Yes! Understood! I’ll contact them immediately and relay the message!”
Bamtol nodded with a dazed expression. Now… at least for the next three weeks, he wouldn’t have to worry about running out of ammunition. My god… what a lucky day this turned out to be!
“Oh, right!”
Mingu, who had been saying a reluctant goodbye, suddenly remembered something and made a gesture as if holding a phone to his ear.
“Where is that kid? I need to let him know too. Did he get transferred somewhere else?”
It was a gesture asking about the radio operator who had accidentally shot him in the side. When you thought about it, that kid had probably blamed himself the most, so Mingu wanted to show him the scar in person and reassure him that he could forget about it now. However…
“Ah, Brother. That kid is…”
Bamtol quickly lowered his voice and stepped closer to Mingu. The expressions of the other squad members also darkened sharply.
“Did I ask about something I shouldn’t have? Did he get taken by the monsters?”
When Mingu frowned, sensing the ominous reaction, Bamtol shook his head slightly.
“Not taken… He ended it with his own hands. It’s been a while now.”
“…Why?”
Mingu asked. Of course the kid had been tearful and soft-hearted, but after surviving that hellish battlefield and making it this far, he couldn’t understand why he would make such a choice. To Bamtol, however, that question was the one that made even less sense.
“Brother, that’s… Ha…”
Bamtol let out a sigh, smiled bitterly in self-mockery, and spoke softly.
“There was no hope that things would get better if we kept holding on.”