Back in his small, reinforced room, Jiwoo methodically restored order to his temporary sanctuary. He set the chair he'd used to bolster the door back into place, a small act of routine amid the chaos. The room, though sparse and dim, was a testament to his determination to survive—a carefully arranged cache of supplies, weapons, and rationed ammunition. Shelves held canned food and bottles of water, while a battered desk cradled a well-worn map marked with days of solitary exploration.
"Sit down," Jiwoo said quietly, motioning for Eunji to take the chair across from him. She hesitated at first, her eyes scanning the room with a mix of caution and curiosity. The supplies on display spoke volumes about the man who had managed to endure the relentless collapse outside. Slowly, she lowered herself into the chair, maintaining a wary distance as she took in every detail.
Once Eunji was seated, Jiwoo reached for the map—a fragile, annotated piece of paper that had become his guide through the ruins. He spread it out on the rickety table between them, his finger tracing the lines of streets, dangerous zones, and potential safe havens. "This is what I've been able to gather," he said, his voice a low murmur in the quiet room. "I've marked high-risk areas where the infected roam in droves, and I've noted a few spots that might offer shelter or supplies."
Eunji leaned in, her eyes studying the faded ink and carefully drawn symbols. "Seongnam City is here, right?" she asked, pointing to a location roughly 17 miles away. "They say there's a military shelter there—a safe haven."
Jiwoo nodded, a trace of determination lighting his eyes. "Exactly. By car, it might be just a half-hour drive, but on foot, we're looking at a long, arduous journey. Though wouldn't advice driving there.It would be dangerous."
For a long moment, the two survivors examined the map in silence. Jiwoo explained the layout of the neighborhood, marking a convenience store two blocks away that might still stock essential supplies. He pointed out an electronics shop, where useful gear could be scavenged, and a cluster of low-rise buildings that might serve as defensive positions or alternate routes if the main roads were compromised.
As Eunji listened, she began adding her own observations. With a steady hand, she drew new lines and circles on the map—indications of hidden alleys she'd noticed while foraging and markings for potential hazards she'd encountered. Her contributions blended seamlessly with Jiwoo's notes, forming a tentative blueprint for survival.
"Look," Jiwoo said, tracing a route with his finger, "if we follow these back roads and avoid the open streets, we might minimize encounters with the infected. It won't be easy, but it's our best shot." His tone was pragmatic, the hardened edge of a man who'd spent weeks weighing every risk.
Eunji's eyes softened slightly as she regarded him. "I've seen a few abandoned vehicles and storefronts that might have what we need. But, if we're honest, nothing is guaranteed." Her voice was cautious, yet a spark of resolve shone through.
The room fell silent again, the gravity of their conversation settling between them like a heavy shroud. Outside, the distant groans of the infected were a constant reminder of the peril that awaited. In that brief interlude, the map wasn't just paper—it was a lifeline, a meticulously drawn guide to navigating a world turned hostile.
After a long while, Jiwoo carefully rolled up the map and tucked it into his backpack. "We'll leave at dawn," he said firmly, breaking the silence. "For tonight, we rest and prepare. Tomorrow, we begin our journey to Seongnam City."
A flicker of relief passed over Eunji's face, though her eyes remained guarded. "What about food and water?" she asked quietly.
Jiwoo gestured to a small pile of supplies on a nearby shelf. "I've got enough to last a few days," he replied. "We'll scavenge more along the way if we can, but we can't afford to be reckless." His words were laced with both urgency and caution—every resource was a matter of life and death now.
Once their plan was set, Jiwoo offered her a modest meal—a couple of ration bars and a bottle of water—to steady their nerves. The shared meal, simple as it was, helped to forge a quiet camaraderie between them, a necessary bond in a fractured world. They spoke little, conserving energy and remaining vigilant, as every sound outside could herald danger.
As the first hints of dawn began to seep through the grimy window, Jiwoo and Eunji sprang into action. Jiwoo methodically packed his bag, placing carefully rationed food, additional ammunition, and essential weapons—a well-maintained AR-15 and his cherished katana, a silent legacy of his training. Eunji secured her few personal belongings, checking that her knife and first-aid kit were within easy reach.
Their final preparations complete, the two survivors stepped out of the apartment. The building was shrouded in a heavy, unsettling quiet, the early morning light casting long shadows over debris-strewn streets. Every step they took was measured, every sound carefully scrutinized. The journey ahead was uncertain and fraught with danger, but their plan was set, and with it came a fragile hope of reaching Seongnam City—a rumored sanctuary in a city overrun by chaos.
As they navigated the ruined corridors of the apartment complex one last time before venturing into the open streets, Jiwoo turned to Eunji. "We stick to the plan, no unnecessary risks," he said, his voice low but resolute. "If things get too dangerous, we retreat and reassess. We're not heroes—we're survivors."
Eunji nodded in agreement. "I understand," she replied. "Let's hope that shelter in Seongnam can offer us some semblance of safety."
Outside, the city was a tableau of devastation and desolation, yet there was a strange beauty in its broken symmetry—a testament to the world that once was. With their route mapped out and every danger considered, Jiwoo and Eunji began their journey. The path to Seongnam was long, winding through streets that bore the scars of disaster, but with each step, they inched closer to the promise of refuge.
In that uncertain dawn, their shared resolve was a beacon in the darkness. They had planned meticulously, every detail etched into memory and paper, knowing that survival was not merely a matter of luck but of careful preparation and unwavering determination. As the door behind them closed with a final, echoing click, they stepped into a world of uncertainty, their future a fragile promise held together by hope and sheer will.
And so, with the final vestiges of night fading away, they set off together—two survivors united by a single, desperate goal: to find safety in Seongnam City, where a military shelter might yet offer them a chance at a new beginning.
The end of the chapter.