The streets were quiet, the half-destroyed stores along the strip mall even more eerie.
Ever since the bomb happened, everything fell apart.
A year ago, the government got a little too comfortable with their weapons. They claimed they were safe. That their tests would be harmless, just a quick check-over whilst international disagreements at its heights.
It wasn’t harmless.
Something had gone catastrophically wrong. It had derailed from its designated pathway, and exploded just outside of Seoul.
Now, Korea and its neighbouring countries were decimated to some degree–Korea was barely even recognizable near Seoul.
The warning the government had sent out had done its best; lots survived, lots didn’t.
That was supposed to be the only disaster that happened.
Then people started getting sick.
Then they started to lose control over themselves. Began lusting for blood and human meat.
And they got significantly disgusting looking–fungi-like organisms began to sprout from skin. Eyes lost their sign of life as they succumbed to the illness.
That’s how the zombie apocalypse started.
One catastrophe after another.
The government was still trying, but it had become a purge after the announcement of the virus.
People feared. They fought. They survived.
Seungmin was one of them.
He had luckily been in the countryside for a trip when the explosion happened. He’d only experienced the fallout.
Surviving the zombies was a completely different feat, though.
It only took seeing one man get his neck torn out by another person’s mouth to straighten him up–to make him realize that holy shit this was real.
He kept to himself. Getting intertwined with others was a recipe for disaster.
He was efficient, quiet. He’d learned to not be loud enough to attract hordes. He got stronger over time from having to fight for his life everyday.
It was taxing. It was exhausting.
But the fear of the other path was enough to keep him going.
Today was like everyday. Quiet, except for the groans and moans of the infected who’d been fully turned. A dust-like atmosphere had settled over the ruins where the bomb had initially hit, making everything look worse.
He walked–boots thumping lightly against the cracked pavement.
There were craters in the ground in some places. Debris and ruined buildings scattered everywhere.
People rarely ventured here. They didn’t dare.
It was littered with zombies and the particles were the worst here–the closer to the bomb sight, the more intense.
The gas mask was secure around his face–the only thing saving him from the particles.
He was hoping to get lucky, to pass through, scavenge whatever he could–hopefully since people rarely came through, there was still something left–and land out on the other side to find a spot to stay for the next week.
That’s how it is. Moving every other day, weekly if he got lucky with a good spot–usually getting overrun by hordes or other survivors.
The zombies were ruthless. People were merciless. Seungmin learned to stay away from both.
He pushed open the shattered glass door of what was a convenience store, stepping over the crushed glass and knocked supplies.
His gun–scavanged from an already broken gun store a couple towns away–was held safely in his arm. His eyes darted quickly, taking note of his surroundings.
The store was surprisingly stocked. People must’ve not raided it yet.
He walked through the aisles, pulling his backpack off his shoulder, beginning to load what he could in it. Non-expired foods, first-aid and medicines, water…whatever was necessary.
When he heard a small whimper from nearby, he froze. His hand tightened around his gun.
Slowly, quietly, he zipped his bag and pulled it over his shoulder. Just as he did, the sound was heard again–a couple aisles over.
Seungmin was careful. He held his gun up, boots thumping quietly as he slowly walked over. It didn’t sound like a zombie, but people were just as dangerous.
Though, when he turned the aisle–
A person was on the ground, gas mask on, face visibly pained, a large gash on their side.