Witch of Ruin (4)
Clang—!
Along with the sharp shards of broken glass, a massive zombie burst into the supermarket.
Graaaah—!
The zombie charged forward, thrashing its head wildly. Its face was so ravaged that the bone showed through where the flesh had been torn away. It was less than three meters from Sheriff.
“Augh, you scared the hell out of me, you bastard!”
Sheriff flinched but quickly scrambled to his feet and grabbed the hammer that had been lying across the cart. However—
Crash—!
The faceless zombie moved faster than Sheriff could draw the hammer. It lunged over the opposite side of the cart and toppled inside, then immediately began thrashing its limbs against the cart and hammer, refusing to let go.
Graaaah! Gruuuugh—!
“Get off, you piece of shit!”
Sheriff swatted the zombie’s hands away once, then shook the cart in a zigzag pattern. Still, the creature clung stubbornly to both the cart and the hammer. In fact, the situation only grew worse.
Clatter—!
The zombie’s upper body slid into the cart while its legs kicked straight up into the air. The cart didn’t flip over; the weight of the canned goods and the hammer kept it balanced in an awkward equilibrium.
“Hey, what the hell are you doing in there?”
Sheriff frowned in frustration. The sight of the faceless zombie drooling all over the precious Spam cans was infuriating. Worse, its flailing had knocked the hammer’s handle to the far side of the cart.
“Sheriff! You okay?”
Jinwoo, who had been keeping watch outside, called out, ready to rush in at any moment. Sheriff glared at the broad back and the back of the head of the zombie sprawled inside his shopping cart and shouted back.
“Stay out! It’s just one, one! I’m fine, just keep watching!”
Still, the situation was tricky. He was debating whether to tip the cart over to dump the zombie out when—
Crunch—! Shatter—!
Another zombie appeared from the back door, stepping on broken glass. This one looked like an old man well past eighty.
“Why are they so damn fast!”
The wrinkled old-man zombie sprinted toward him with unnaturally quick movements, arms flailing. Sheriff instinctively backed away. It wasn’t particularly faster than other zombies, but the combination of that speed with its appearance felt deeply wrong.
Graaaah—!
The old zombie closed the distance in an instant and leaped at him, jaws wide open. Sheriff spun the cart and slammed it into the creature’s waist.
Crack—!
The old zombie was hurled sideways, crashing into a display shelf and toppling it over.
Crash—! Clang!
Goods spilled everywhere, creating a deafening racket. Meanwhile, the large zombie continued thrashing inside the cart, howling. Every time its legs kicked upward, more items fell from the shelves. The chaos finally snapped Sheriff’s patience.
“You bastards! Shut the hell up!”
He grabbed the old zombie by the head as it charged again and smashed it against the edge of the cart.
Crunch—!
Bone cracked under Sheriff’s immense strength. Yet the zombie kept clawing at his hands.
Crunch—!
Sheriff twisted around behind the zombie, pinning its head down, and snatched a frying pan from the nearby shelf. He swung it with all his might.
Wham—! Wham—! Wham—!
Three consecutive blows dented the pan’s edge and left deep gashes in the side of the old zombie’s head. Knowing it wouldn’t die easily, Sheriff kept hammering the same spot relentlessly. While pinning the cart with his body to keep it steady, he delivered more than ten brutal strikes. Then—
Ting—!
The screw holding the pan snapped. The body flew off, leaving only the handle swinging uselessly in the air.
“Augh, this piece of shit!”
Sheriff tossed the broken plastic handle aside and scanned the shelves.
Round pans, deep pans, square egg-roll pans…
The entire nearby shelf was stocked with frying pans. Having already learned they weren’t effective for killing zombies, Sheriff kept the old zombie pinned by the neck and searched for a better weapon—something heavier and more lethal.
Graaaah—! Kraaaah—!
The old zombie, its skull now caved in, continued clawing at Sheriff without tiring. Sheriff kicked its legs to disrupt its balance and glanced sideways again. That’s when he spotted a stack of stone hot pots on the bottom shelf.
“Yeah, you’ll do.”
Sheriff snatched one and brought it down hard on the old zombie’s head.
Crack—!
Bone split beneath the torn flesh. He struck the same spot again.
Thud—!
After enduring dozens of frying-pan blows and the stone-pot strikes, the old zombie’s skull finally shattered. Confirming it had stopped moving, Sheriff turned his attention to the large zombie whose back of the head was now fully exposed.
Graaaah—!
The creature was still thrashing wildly inside the cart, smearing the canned goods with its drool. Sheriff clenched his teeth, raised the stone pot high, and brought it down in a full vertical swing.
Crack—! Crunch—! Splurch—!
Sickening sounds echoed several times before the thick stone pot split in half. Still, Sheriff didn’t stop.
Crack—! Crack—!
He kept pounding with the broken half, focusing on the same dented spot on the back of the zombie’s skull. Finally—
Clang—!
The large zombie’s limbs went limp. Its legs, which had been pointing at the ceiling, dropped heavily onto the cart.
“Haa…! Haa…! Damn it…! Son of a bitch!”
After finishing off both zombies with kitchenware, Sheriff spat out curses under his breath and tossed the broken pot aside. He wasn’t angry at the zombies themselves—they had no reason left, only instinct. But…
“You ruined all the food, you bastards.”
Looking at the cart now coated in green brain matter, Sheriff shook his head. Every single can of Spam and kimchi he had so happily collected, along with his hammer, was drenched in zombie brains. The amount that had sprayed out through the eye sockets and cracked skulls was enormous.
The hammer could be cleaned and used again, but the cans were a different story. They had to be thrown out. And there wasn’t much Spam left on the shelves to begin with…
“What the hell, Sheriff? You okay? You said it was just one, but why’s it so damn noisy in there?”
Unable to wait any longer, Jinwoo rushed inside. Sheriff spread both arms wide and turned around.
“I told you not to come in! Now we’re both trapped in here! I already took care of them!”
“I came to help, you idiot! How am I supposed to just stand there when I hear you smashing everything inside? And it wasn’t even one—it was two!”
As Jinwoo raised his voice, Samsuk-i barked sharply in agreement. Sheriff waved his hands dismissively and pointed at the cart.
“No, it’s just… these bastards had to go and get stuck inside the cart, so I was trying to get them out and it took some time…”
“Ugh… We can’t eat any of that. Forget cleaning it—just grab a new cart and new food, Sheriff.”
Jinwoo finally saw the disaster inside the cart and grimaced. Even a pragmatist like him, someone who could rival Bear Grylls, was saying it had to be discarded. Sheriff nodded readily.
“Yeah, you’re right.”
“And…”
Jinwoo stared at the brain-soaked cans with a troubled expression before adding,
“Stop packing so much. Just grab whatever we can actually eat. We don’t even have a car—how are we supposed to carry all these cans? And once we reach the theater, we’ve got fourteen flights of stairs to climb.”
“I know, but I just don’t feel right without meat on the side… You know that.”
Sheriff shrugged. Jinwoo knew full well how much the man loved meat. If his monstrous strength came from protein, then of course he needed it. But complaining about taste in this situation was so absurd that Jinwoo let out a dry laugh.
“Bullshit. Hahaha! You’re still saying crap like that even after the zombie apocalypse? Before we hit Costco, you were eating whatever you could get your hands on.”
“Well, the first two days we only drank water and soda… After that, when we raided the convenience store, I only grabbed Spam. There wasn’t much of it in a small store anyway…”
Sheriff replied. Seeing how serious he was, Jinwoo couldn’t outright forbid it and simply nodded.
“Fine. Then this time, just pack what you want to eat. We can manage on whatever for a few days.”
Once they returned to Big Island, they could eat all the rich food they wanted—macaroni and cheese, ham-and-cheese sandwiches, frozen pizza, burgers, even spare ribs and steak. A few days of simple meals wouldn’t kill them. Yubin and Mingu wouldn’t complain, and there was no need to cater to the hostage Witch’s preferences. But Sheriff immediately shook his head.
“How could I do that? If we don’t eat, we all don’t eat. If we eat, we all eat the same. Alright, alright! I’ll stop being greedy and just pack moderately. There’s not much Spam left anyway.”
While Sheriff pulled a towel from the shelf and wiped zombie brains off his face and gloves, Jinwoo examined the broken glass door the zombies had come through. Beyond the jagged shards stretched a dark six-meter corridor leading toward daylight.
“Where does that door lead? Why did they suddenly come out from there?”
“Probably the back door,” Sheriff answered casually. “Offices, storage, bathrooms, that kind of stuff down the hall…”
“Damn it. We’ve been standing guard at the front this whole time without even knowing there was a back door? We’re really losing it.”
Jinwoo clicked his tongue at his own carelessness. He had visited once before, but only after dark, so he had no idea about the building’s layout or surroundings. Having an open back door like this was far from ideal.
“Wait a second. I need to block it off, at least roughly.”
Sheriff retrieved his hammer from the cart containing the zombie corpses, grabbed a 4.5-meter power strip from the shelf, and headed toward the back door. Even just tying it across the doorway would drastically reduce the risk of another ambush.
“Why not just block the door itself? Why go all the way over there?”
Jinwoo asked as Sheriff turned on his headlamp. Sheriff hesitated for a moment before giving a weak excuse.
“Just… thought I’d check where it leads. Yubin said reconnaissance is important.”
“Hey! If you’re going to look for more Spam in the storage, stop right there! I already told you we can rough it for a few days!”
Jinwoo shouted at Sheriff’s retreating back.
“Do I look like an idiot? I wouldn’t do that.”
Sheriff replied shamelessly, then let out a sigh of relief. Jinwoo’s sharp deduction had caught him off guard. Now he couldn’t bring himself to return with more Spam even if he wanted to—though there was no guarantee any remained in storage anyway.
Thud—!
Sheriff stepped into the dark corridor, relying on his headlamp. Just as he expected, storage rooms, offices, and an employee bathroom lined both sides.
“Ugh…”
When he opened the storage door and stepped inside, deep wrinkles formed on Sheriff’s brow. He had already smelled plenty of rot near the meat and fish sections, but the stench here was far worse—weeks or months old and concentrated.
The source was the decomposing corpse of a young man sprawled across a box of detergent. His skull was caved in; he had likely turned into a zombie before being killed again.
Buzz—! Buzz—! Buzz—! Skitter—!
Flies and cockroaches swarmed around the body scattered as the headlamp’s beam hit them.
“Agh… Anything that was in here, I’m not eating unless we scrub it with alcohol first.”
Sheriff shuddered at the sight of boxes covered in mold from the corpse’s fluids. No matter how much he liked Spam, he wanted nothing to do with whatever had been stored here. They weren’t desperate enough yet.
“Nothing much here either…”
After checking the bathroom and office as well, Sheriff walked out through the back door.
“…So it’s a parking lot.”
The narrow customer parking lot connected to the fire road held a delivery Damas van and a white Genesis Coupe, both covered in fine dust.
“Ah… Zen Coupe. I always wanted one of these…”
Sheriff’s eyes lit up as he murmured softly at the sight of his dream car after so long.
“Guess I’ll never get to drive one now, huh?”
Korea’s first domestically produced large rear-wheel-drive sports car. For a poor, young Sheriff and his friends, it had been the ultimate symbol of success—and therefore something he had desperately wanted to own.
He had once vaguely hoped that someday he would buy one secondhand and drive it, maybe with a pretty girlfriend in a miniskirt riding shotgun, speeding down the highway toward the sea. But after the world turned into a zombie apocalypse, all of that had become nothing more than a dream. There were no open roads left to race on, and no one left to envy him for it.
Thump—!
After gazing at his dream car with a wistful look for a moment longer, Sheriff gave the roof a light tap and turned away. Then—
Flash—!
Something glinted between the beer boxes stacked beside the back door, catching the afternoon sunlight. Almost as if it were tempting him to take it…
“Huh? What the…”
Sheriff picked up the smart key with the Hyundai logo on its keyring and looked back at his dream car.
“…No way, right?”