The streets of Gwacheon stretched before them, bathed in an eerie silence. It had been twenty-four minutes since they'd left the last safe zone behind, but the journey felt much longer. The outbreak was only a week old, yet it had already transformed the world into something unrecognizable.
Jiwoo and Eunji walked with steady caution, their breath controlled, weapons at the ready. The sun hovered overhead, its light casting long shadows on the cracked pavement. Every step they took was measured, every sound dissected for threats.
Then, just as they neared Gwacheon Station, they froze.
A horde.
More than fifty infected blocked their path, shambling, groaning, their bodies twitching unnaturally. Some dragged themselves across the pavement, half-decayed, while others stood in place, heads twitching as if listening for movement. The station itself, once a bustling transit hub, was now little more than a graveyard of abandoned vehicles and corpses.
Jiwoo clenched his jaw. Too many. They couldn't push through, not without drawing attention. He scanned the area, searching for another route.
"We can't move forward," Eunji whispered.
"I know." Jiwoo's voice was just as low. He tightened his grip on the riffle strapped across his chest. "We need to get off the streets. Find a place to rest."
She nodded, and they turned away from the station, retreating down a side street. They moved fast, staying close to the buildings, keeping their presence as small as possible. The last thing they needed was to be spotted.
After a few blocks, Jiwoo's eyes landed on a modern apartment complex. Unlike most of the city, it looked untouched—its glass windows intact, its doors unbroken. A stark contrast to the destruction elsewhere. Had it been abandoned so quickly?
"This could work," Eunji murmured, studying the structure.
Jiwoo nodded. "Let's check it out."
Entering the Apartment
They approached cautiously, Jiwoo leading the way. The entrance was eerily pristine—no blood, no claw marks, no signs of struggle. Either people had fled early, or the infected hadn't reached this part of the city yet.
Eunji tested the door handle. Locked.
Jiwoo exhaled sharply. "Move back."
With a precise motion, he raised his leg and kicked the door. The crack of wood breaking echoed through the empty street, but the lock gave way. They slipped inside, quickly closing the door behind them.
Inside, the lobby was immaculate—polished tile floors, artificial plants still standing in their pots, mailboxes undisturbed. The contrast between the chaos outside and the order inside was jarring.
Eunji adjusted the strap on her shoulder. "Second floor?"
Jiwoo nodded. The higher they went, the safer they'd be. First floors were too easy to break into.
They ascended the stairs cautiously, Jiwoo leading the way with his rifle raised. The air inside was stale but not rotten—a good sign. If infected had gotten in, they would have smelled decay by now.
At the second floor, Jiwoo stopped outside Apartment 204. The door looked sturdy, undamaged. A good sign.
Jiwoo glanced at Eunji, and she nodded. With controlled force, he kicked the door open.
Inside the Apartment
The apartment was modern and untouched—a snapshot of normal life before the outbreak. The beige couch sat neatly in the living room, a small kitchen with stainless steel appliances gleamed under the light, and a few dishes remained in the sink, as if their owner had left in a hurry.
No blood. No signs of a struggle.
They were alone.
Jiwoo let out a breath and locked the door behind them, wedging a chair beneath the handle for extra security.
"We'll stay here for a while," he said, scanning the area. "Rest. Plan our next move."
Eunji had already moved to the window. She peeked through the curtains, watching the streets below. The infected were still there, still aimless. For now.
"Looks clear," she muttered, stepping away.
Jiwoo moved into the bedroom. A queen-sized bed, neatly made. A nightstand with a half-drunk bottle of water. The owner had left in a hurry—maybe when the outbreak first hit.
His chest tightened. Did they make it out?
He shook the thought away. Focus.
Returning to the living room, Jiwoo pulled a map from his backpack and spread it across the coffee table. Their destination was still Seongnam City—rumors said the military was holding a safe zone there. If they could make it, they might find real shelter.
"We'll move at sunrise," Jiwoo decided. "Infected are slower in the early morning."
Eunji nodded, sitting cross-legged on the couch. "Makes sense."
Silence settled between them, comfortable but heavy. Outside, the world was dying, but here, in this apartment, time stood still.
Jiwoo rummaged through his pack, pulling out a packaged meal and a bottle of water. He tossed one to Eunji, who caught it effortlessly.
"We should eat," he said. "Keep our strength up."
She tore open the package without hesitation. They ate in silence, the taste bland but necessary.
As Jiwoo chewed, his mind drifted. A week ago, he had just come back from the military thinking he was going to have a peaceful life. Now, survival was his only goal. The transformation felt surreal, like waking up in a nightmare that never ended.
Eunji leaned back against the couch, stretching her arms. "Think Seongnam's really safe?"
Jiwoo exhaled, rubbing his forehead. "We won't know until we get there."
She didn't press further. They both knew the truth. There were no guarantees in this world anymore.
Before sleeping, Jiwoo did one last security check—windows locked, weapons within reach, escape routes planned. The infected weren't getting in tonight.
Satisfied, he returned to the couch.
"We'll take shifts," he told Eunji. "I'll go first."
She gave a tired nod and settled against the armrest, her eyes already growing heavy.
Jiwoo leaned back, gripping his rifle loosely. The apartment, despite its eerie stillness, offered a brief illusion of safety. A false sense of peace in a world that had long since lost it.
Outside, the infected continued to roam.
And tomorrow, they would have to move again.
End of Chapter