White Christmas (3)
Thud-!
The lieutenant zombie's body collapsed onto the snowfield, its head blown apart inside the helmet.
"Hrk-!"
A groan escaped the sergeant's mouth at the unbelievable sight. He had no idea what had just happened, but he'd been granted one more chance at the brink of death.
Yet it wasn't over. A dozen or so zombies were still charging toward him, and the burning parka the driver had been using as bait had long since burned down to nothing. He needed to run.
"Ugh!"
The moment he pressed his hands to the ground to stand, four gunshots rang out in rapid succession.
Bang! Bang! Bang, baang-!
Four zombies that had been rushing him dropped lifelessly into the snow, each with a massive hole punched through its head.
Thud-!
A zombie that had been leaping from a car landed headfirst right beside the sergeant. The sight of that horrific, mangled face—its forehead gaping open—made his body flinch on reflex.
"Urgh!"
The sergeant, who had been crawling across the snow toward his rifle, clutched his leg and collapsed again. Only then did he realize his ankle was badly sprained. The sharp pain shooting through the bone the instant he tried to stand made it impossible to rise. He must have injured it when the lieutenant zombie threw him.
"Don't move."
A man burst from the alley, rifle trained on the zombies as he sprinted past the sergeant with a curt command. He wore a tactical vest over a dog-fur parka and carried a K-2 fitted with a large optic. His breathing was ragged from running at full speed, yet the muzzle never wavered.
Tat-tat-! Bang-!
The man pivoted at the waist and fired. Three zombies sprinting across a car hood dropped in sequence, brains spraying across the snow. He put exactly one round into each zombie's head. Fair and square.
"Haa……! Haa……!"
The sergeant could only gape, gasping for breath as he witnessed the impossible. In the middle of a blizzard at night, this man was sprinting through the darkness and dropping every zombie with a single headshot. The sergeant had never even imagined marksmanship like this. Watching it unfold, he still couldn't believe it. It was closer to a miracle.
But the man in the dog-fur parka moved as though he'd known every shot would land. He sprinted across the snow-covered road and swung his rifle toward the next targets—two zombies charging with helmets lowered.
Bang! Bang!
The man's rifle barked. The zombies' knees shattered and their legs buckled. The instant their heads snapped back from the fall, he fired again.
Tat-tat-!
Both rounds punched through their jaws, tore through faces and skulls, and turned the inside of each helmet into a slurry of green brain matter. It happened before their ruined knees even touched the ground.
Thump-! Thud-!
While the two helmeted zombies fell, the man advanced to the center of the road and turned toward the storefront where the driver stood. His movements were swift, calm, and daring. There was no wasted motion, no error.
It was as if a gamer who had cleared the same stage thousands of times was simply reading the enemy's attack patterns. But how was that even possible? This was life and death.
Tat-tat-! Baang-! Baang-! Bang! Bang! Tat-tat-!
Every time the sharp reports cut through the howling blizzard, the number of zombies dwindled.
"Hieeeek-!"
The driver threw himself flat when bullets suddenly flew in his direction without warning. He needn't have worried. The man's shooting was so precise that stray rounds were never a concern. Every bullet he fired struck a zombie's head as though guided by a homing system.
It took the man in the dog-fur parka less than twenty seconds to drop the dozen-plus zombies. The speed was staggering enough, but the fact that he still had ammunition left in his magazine was even more shocking.
Whooooosh-!
When the thunder of gunfire finally ceased, only the wind remained.
What…… was that? A dream?
The sergeant blinked and looked around at the impossible scene. Dozens of zombie corpses lay scattered across the snow in a fan-shaped pattern around him. It felt unreal, like a grand nightmare in which a hero had appeared.
Woof-!
A loud bark from behind snapped him out of his daze.
A dog!
The sergeant turned and instinctively shrank back. A massive black hound had appeared right in front of him. Its eyes gleamed, and saliva dripped from between bared fangs.
"Urgh!"
When the terrified sergeant tried to push himself up using the car and fell to his knees again, the man glanced at the dog and called out.
"Samsuk!"
The dog immediately changed direction and trotted toward him, light-footed, as though it had never been interested in the sergeant at all. The man stroked the panting dog's head.
"Don't get so close. You'll scare people. I know you mean well."
After calming the dog, the man pulled back the fur-trimmed hood of his parka and asked,
"Can you stand?"
He was quite young. His identity was ambiguous. He clearly wasn't wearing a regular army uniform, yet his gear was far too professional for a civilian. The K-2 with its large day/night optic and the tactical vest bristling with magazines were higher quality than standard issue.
Still, the way he stood against the blizzard carried an almost awe-inspiring presence.
"Huh? Ah…… Yes! Yes!"
The sergeant nodded and slowly rose, gripping the car door. Pain lanced through his leg the entire time, but he didn't dare complain in this situation.
"Um…… Thank you! Thank you for saving us!"
When the sergeant bowed his head, the man raised his left hand and pointed at the sergeant's neck.
"You're hurt."
The sergeant touched the spot and was startled to find bright red blood on his palm.
"N-no, this! This is from that lieutenant…… I mean, that zombie scratched me……. I wasn't bitten! I swear!"
"I know. You weren't bitten. I've been watching since you jumped from that building over there."
The man spoke flatly and gestured toward the driver on the store roof.
"Come down and help him. He's injured his leg."
"Yes! Yes! I'm coming!"
While the driver scrambled down, tumbling through the snow, the man approached the fifth vehicle and peered inside. Confirming the engine was still running, he dragged the blood-soaked corpse of the dead driver out of the car.
"Damn it……. Even with the 'No Entry' warning posted, people still force their way in and die……. They never bother to say when or where they're coming, either……."
After laying the body by the roadside and closing its eyes, the man let out a weary sigh. Exhaustion was plain on his face.
So it was this man……. The one who wrote that warning…….
At that moment, the sergeant remembered the bodies hanging from the traffic lights near City Hall. If this man had wanted to, with his shooting skill, he could have executed all those soldiers. Yet from the way he'd acted so far, he didn't seem like a butcher……. The sergeant's hands began to tremble again.
"Sergeant Oh! You're alive! Ah…… Thank you! Thank you so much!"
The driver, now at the sergeant's side, bowed repeatedly to the man in the dog-fur parka, voice thick with tears. When he reached for a fresh box of ammunition to reload, the man spoke sharply.
"Hands off the ammunition."
His tone carried a chill that hadn't been there before.
"……Sir?"
The driver looked up in surprise. The order was cold enough to freeze the tears of relief still streaking his face.
"I'll allow you to reload later."
The man made it clear, once again, that he did not trust them enough to permit reloading. There was no room for negotiation in his stance.
The driver wanted nothing more than loaded weapons in case more zombies appeared, but he backed away without argument and helped the sergeant instead. He had no desire to disobey the man who had just saved their lives. Nor did he have the ability or courage to do so.
"You came from Gyeongju?"
The man asked after checking the division patch. It sounded like confirmation rather than a question.
"Yes……."
Fear clouded the sergeant's face as he answered.
Was he going to kill every soldier from Gyeongju……? Just like the ones hanging from the traffic lights?
Reading the sergeant's glance toward the intersection, the man shook his head.
"I didn't kill those soldiers. You don't need to be afraid."
After reassuring the two men, he pointed at the fifth vehicle with his chin.
"Can you drive?"
"Yes! I can drive!"
The driver answered loudly, tension still in his voice. The man checked his watch and nodded.
"Good. You've got about twenty minutes before the next big wave passes through…… Get back in this vehicle before the zombies arrive. If you reverse to the intersection, there'll be enough space to turn around. You can reload then."
The man pointed toward the Singmangjeong intersection and gave the two soldiers detailed instructions.
"Yes…… Yes……."
The driver nodded vigorously and helped the injured sergeant into the car first. Then, grimacing, he stripped a parka from one of the fallen soldiers on the ground and put it on. With the windshield shattered, they would need the extra layer to survive the blizzard.
"Hrk-!"
The driver burst into fresh tears as he pulled on the sleeves. The joy of survival and the grief of losing comrades he had lived with for months welled up at once.
"You said…… a big zombie wave is coming?"
The sergeant, who had been sitting dazed in the back seat, suddenly came to his senses and asked. Even the attack by fifty or so zombies had been a nightmare. The thought that an even larger horde was roaming somewhere nearby made his skin crawl.
"That's right. Roughly four to seven thousand. Two waves are moving in shifts, so you'd better hurry."
The man answered calmly, but the sergeant's face went even paler.
"Oh no……."
A sigh escaped the sergeant's lips. Four thousand to seven thousand zombies per wave—nearly ten thousand in total. If two such massive waves were in the Yeongcheon area, it meant the northern defensive line had completely collapsed. That meant Gyeongju was no longer…… safe either.
Thud-! Thud-! Vroooom-!
The driver shifted the fifth vehicle back and forth, rocking it free from the snow until it sat straight on the road again. His hands moved frantically between the wheel and the gearshift. How could they not, when thousands of zombies would be here in twenty minutes?
"Tell them when you get back. It's over here. They should give up."
Once the vehicle was ready to move, the man spoke to the sergeant. The sergeant, who had been nodding under the weight of that presence, flinched and asked,
"What about you, sir? Aren't you coming with us?"
"I'm not going."
"What? But…… you just said the zombies are coming……."
The sergeant trailed off. The resolve in the man's eyes as he stood against the blizzard was absolute.
This man still had something he needed to do here. The sergeant didn't know what it was, but it was clearly something only he could accomplish.
"Um…… At least tell us your name……. We'd like to know the name of the man who saved our lives."
Just before the driver put the car in gear, the sergeant asked. There was no hidden motive—only genuine sincerity.
If he survived this endless war against the zombies…… and one day told someone precious about this night…… he wanted to be able to say the name of the Santa Claus who had given him new life on this snow-covered Christmas Eve. It felt like the most basic human courtesy.
"……Park Jinwoo."
The man met the sergeant's eyes, hesitated for a moment, then answered. He tapped the hood twice and signaled for them to reverse.
"Park…… Jinwoo…… sir. Yes! I'll remember you for the rest of my life! Thank you so much!"
The sergeant bowed his head again and again, expressing his gratitude to the man named Jinwoo. As the car slowly reversed alongside him, the driver scratched his head and asked with an apologetic look.
"I'm sorry for asking, but I have to report this. What exactly happened here? If my superiors ask why Yeongcheon is finished, or what happened to the 'Factory,' I won't know what to say."
"Hoo……!"
Jinwoo let out a small sigh, then spoke without emotion.
"Drive."
He had no intention of revealing the secret so many had died to protect to these strangers. Even if he wanted to explain, the story was far too long. To recount everything that had happened in Yeongcheon over the past week…… he would have to go back a full month.
Before the snow had covered everything.