Chapter Text
For the most part, Nari sleeps and wakes and eats and sleeps again. She is to be fed every three hours, and cleaned, and burped, and parted to sleep. All of that takes an hour – Beomgyu feels his eyelids growing heavier whenever Nari whines for milk once more.
“I'll register her birth when there's connection again,” Kai tells him when night comes, and Beomgyu is feeding their week-old pup again, hoping his supply of milk will last longer than what he expects, “and we will get her birth certificate from the distribution centre when it's ready.”
It may possibly be months before Nari's birth certificate will be ready for collection; the government is working with less than a third of its staff, and the world is still trudging through outbreak after outbreak, although Beomgyu hears of Seoul’s situation having improved gradually since they have implemented new strategies on eradicating the infected. They say there's a possibility Seoul may be habitable in summer, although they all agree the chances of that are still pretty slim.
Regardless, Nari will need a birth certificate in order to qualify for aid from the distribution centre; they may get an online copy sooner, though for now, they can only hope it will not take too long.
“We have enough to feed her for the rest of the month,” Beomgyu says, patting Nari's back once she had finished feeding, her little body so light in his arms. Kai helps Beomgyu adjust the pillows, so he won't have to strain his back too much. “Maybe a little more than a month, if I try.”
“I'll be out scavenging for supplies again soon, jagi-yah,” Kai tells him. Beomgyu doesn't like the thought of his mate away from him so soon, but he doesn't mention it, though his scent is no longer as sweet. “I'll get us more rice. I'll try to get some produce. Maybe some seaweed for you, too.”
Beomgyu chuckles, “you don't have to, Kai-yah,” he says. “Since when are we following confinement traditions, hm?”
“I heard it'll help mothers produce more milk…” Kai says, “but if you don't like seaweed, I saw that fish helps, too.”
Beomgyu smiles fondly. So Kai has been reading the pamphlets, too. “Where would you possibly get fish, alpha?” He asks, and then, in a quieter confession, “is there a way to get pork belly, perhaps?”
Kai laughs softly.
“I saw online there's this fishing group nearby,” he tells Beomgyu, “a small community of fishers selling their catches. Apparently one of them lives in a fishery. They are all just a short drive away, I'm sure it's worth the fuel.”
Another community… Beomgyu has heard of a few communities forming recently. They trade what they have in hand, and help wherever they can – fishing, farming, rearing chickens, and repairing tools… They have traded for a few times with them; Beomgyu and their pup will need a diet consisting of less processed foods, and the communities have helped them tremendously in that regard, after having known their circumstance.
They have plans to start a small farm of their own on the rooftop come spring, in fact, having received some seeds and soil from a group of youngsters that have reclaimed the community garden.
An older man came all the way to repair the heater days ago. Beomgyu almost cried when he felt the floors warming up. The man asked for nothing much but some fresh fruits and a small bag of rice; they shared a meal together before he left on his own.
One can only pray he made it back to his family safely.
“I'll ask around for where I can get meat for us,” Kai tells him. “Give me three business days.”
“So quickly?” Beomgyu feels excitement stirring in his chest. Oh, how long has it been since he has eaten grilled meat, of all things! “Are you sure?”
Kai smiles, raising his brow. “Don't you trust me?”
If Beomgyu could jump up to plant a field's worth of kisses to Kai's face, he would. It's unfortunate Nari is on the verge of falling asleep, all cosy in his arms. She knows not of hunger, and not of fear. A little hand clutching onto Beomgyu's sweater; all that she will ever need in this world, at this moment.
“I'll be waiting,” he grins, “I trust you, Kai-yah.”
Kai’s face grows warm, “you're perfect, Beomgyu-hyung,” he confesses abruptly. Kai has always been so generous with his praises, especially to Beomgyu, but it never feels old.
With that, Kai dims their trusty little lantern, and Nari squirms lazily as she is put to bed. She makes a few sounds, but she has been a quiet child so far. Kai’s father told them Nari reminds him so much of Kai himself, when they had called them a few days ago; his and his wife's eyes watered at the sight of a grandchild they cannot yet hold.
The thick blanket shuffles within their best, and Beomgyu relishes in the sound of Kai making his way to hold Beomgyu in his embrace. With their ears pressed through the thin mattress, Beomgyu can hear the rest of their pack still awake; footsteps back and forth downstairs, chatter, and dishes being cleaned. His eyes grow heavy with the proof of living all around him; his baby's breathing, Kai's humming, and everything else happening underneath.
He wakes two hours later to a whining Nari, her mouth latches hungrily onto his nipple as she feeds. Outside, he averts his gaze from the looming silhouettes along the streets, or the occasional gunshots in the distance; the smell of rot that clings constantly to the wind. He watches the moon and the stars instead, and sings a song to keep himself from falling asleep.
_____
Kai joins the rest of their pack for scavenging two days later, with him and Yeonjun promising to return with the fishes, and Taehyun and Soobin heading towards the distribution centre instead, helping with errands and trading whatever they have along the way.
Both Yeonjun and Kai should be returning sooner than the rest, for they aren't making as many stops as Taehyun and Soobin. They leave two hours after sunrise; the cell towers are in service today, so Beomgyu is promised hourly updates from the pack, and he tries to busy himself by scheduling a video call with his mother later in the day.
Truth be told, Beomgyu is nervous about the idea of staying behind in the building; while every possible opening has been heavily barricaded, and they live on the fourth and highest floor, any zombies will be alerted of their presence if Nari so much as wails a little louder than usual. The zombies have evolved to be equipped with sharper hearing, and Beomgyu has seen far too many news of children being turned, simply from chasing around in their houses, bathing, or even just wailing for milk.
The world has gone very quiet. Especially at night, when the infected ones are most active.
He stays in the nest with Nari the whole morning, restless despite the regular updates from the pack. His heart has yet to calm, and so he feels sick in his stomach, and his scent sours consequently. Nari is more upset because of it; Beomgyu feels guilt squeezing his throat, as Nari fusses in his arms. It only makes him even more anxious in return, though he does not dare let himself fall apart. Not now, when Nari needs him to be present.
Beomgyu does cry when his mother calls, however, a while after Nari has finally been coaxed to sleep.
“You are doing well, my dear,” she whispers to him, that same guilt reflected in her weary eyes, “it's okay to tell eomma everything. I'm right here.”
His chest tightens painfully. If only he could visit her, who is only an hour's drive away. If only…
Kai and Yeonjun return an hour after noon. Their scents flood the stairway, and Beomgyu greets them hurriedly, crushing Kai into a hug before his mate can even take off his shoes, urging him to shrug off his coat, and join him in their nest.
“I'll leave you two alone,” Yeonjun smiles, as warm as he has always been. The sight of him unharmed gives Beomgyu hope that the others will be fine as well, “but let's have dinner together when the rest comes back, yeah? We got trout. If the rooftop is not so cold later, I might even be able to use the grill. We still have some charcoal left, I think.”
Beomgyu thanks Yeonjun, before ushering Kai through their door, the alpha releasing his own scent as soon as Beomgyu wraps his arms around him. He's back, his heart is racing once more, this time with relief, unburdening his throat of the tightness that had clung onto him all morning long, he's back, and we're whole again.
“Kai-yah,” he cries, “I miss you.”
Kai buries his nose to Beomgyu's nape, “I miss you too,” he says, “I'm sorry I had to go today. You must have been so anxious. I could feel it through our bond. It must have been so hard, hm?”
“I'm sorry,” Beomgyu tells him. Kai shakes his head against his shoulder, his arms around Beomgyu's waist.
“Nothing to be sorry about, Beomgyu-yah,” Beomgyu feels his alpha's body melting into his own. Kai smells a little bit like fish, or perhaps that's from what's within his backpack. “My mate is so brave. I'll try to come home earlier next time, I promise.”
Beomgyu takes his word for it, and loosens their embrace, for Kai to unpack whatever he has gained from their scavenging today. There was trout, although they had been taken by Yeonjun to be cleaned downstairs. “Hyung and I traded some batteries for the trouts,” Kai recalls to him softly as they lay in the nest, Beomgyu massaging the knots all along Kai's shoulders, from all the carrying, “we helped around too. One of them sold us the kimchi she and her mate made. Two different families live in that fishery. If we go again next time, they ask for hyung and I to bring cough syrup…”
“Cough syrup?” Beomgyu questions. Whatever for? Is anyone in the fishery sick? If so, Beomgyu hopes neither Kai nor Yeonjun had been too close to them. If Nari catches an illness…
“They have two children,” Kai says, his voice low this time, “and they have trouble falling asleep.”
“Oh,” Beomgyu's heart sinks at the realisation. He remembers hearing that medicines with sedative effects have been used to put little pups to sleep for longer – many struggle to be quiet, after all, and better for the younger ones to be asleep than to be fearful. But to think that there are families willing to trade perishables to get their hands on them– to think that there might come a time when Nari might need it too…
“It’s hard to find cough syrup anywhere,” he hears Kai exhaling lightly, “but next time we visit, maybe we can bring something for the little ones. Maybe candy, they're easier to find. Maybe Yeonjun-hyung and I can find some books and toys.”
“The ones that don't make any sounds,” Beomgyu murmurs, though Kai already knows. Nari will love the toys that make music – little plastic guitars and keyboards that sing. Will she get the chance to play them someday? “Kai-yah, are you hungry now?”
Kai nods slightly, “just a little. I might just have kimchi with rice.”
“I'll have some too,” Beomgyu ruffles his husband's hair. It's fluffy, made frizzy by the winter air, sticking strands of it to his skin. “Let's eat before our baby wakes, Kai-yah.”
_____
They really thought this abandoned building would be their shelter until they could return to Seoul, they really did. It was in a town secluded enough, but close to the resources they would need to gather to stay alive. There were even smaller luxuries that could be afforded with a bit of help and bartering – heated floors, occasionally working cell towers, and water running from the taps; the distribution centre close by, and the communities they have since been able to befriend. It was never safe, but it was enough.
The evacuation notice came when Nari turned two months old. A warning that makes all of their phones buzz collectively; that makes Soobin leave his bowl of rice and soup and spam, taking his phone from the table, a surprised look flashing across his face. There hadn't been cell service for the past few days; an unexpected outbreak had occurred within the telecommunications centre, and it is currently basically left barren for the military to handle sooner or later. There shouldn't be notifications, though Beomgyu immediately understands the gravity of the situation from Soobin's sunken expression alone.
“Hyung?” Taehyun nudges Soobin, “is it…?”
“An evacuation notice,” Soobin reads, showing the rest of the table his cracked screen; they are all ordered to self-examine and evacuate in five days’ time, the only two exits being by the west of town.
“They say the situation here has gone dire after what had happened yesterday night,” Soobin says, “they're sending large-scale military action to clear the zombies here, starting on Saturday.”
“Saturday?” Kai's concerned voice betrays his stoic expression, “Beomgyu and Nari…”
Beomgyu grimaces at the thought of leaving everything behind once more. This building they have since called home, and life as he had relearned and claimed as his very own…
Where can they possibly go? Nari is far too young to leave. Perhaps the last two months had been too peaceful, and they were facing the consequences now. Would they even survive another evacuation?
The once jesting atmosphere of their table falls silent. Like water within a pot, its once smooth meniscus shaken by whatever that has fallen onto its surface.
Their previous evacuation had been chaotic – Beomgyu still gets nightmares of the many days spent driving out of Seoul, spending nights in overcrowded shelters and watching the map of Seoul turn entirely red, spreading outwards like a malignant tumour, growing its roots through towns and neighbourhoods. They had driven for six days before they arrived in Daegu, then without even a chance to see his grieving mother, they drove out of the city, morning sickness plaguing him throughout the entire ride into this once quiet town. The infected ones reached before they did; they chose to stay, anyway. There wasn't a better place than this back then.
And now, it seems, even this little building will soon be unsafe. Inhabitable despite the newly sprouting radishes and spinach on their rooftop; the new bedsheets Kai was given weeks ago… It is Taehyun who speaks up first. Always with a plan.
“We have enough fuel to drive for another two hundred or so kilometres,” he says, “that's enough to take us far. They gave us a list of places we could evacuate to, didn't they? We can cross the tunnels. I heard they say that the situation is not as bad in Yecheon-gun.”
“We'll have to pack some things up,” Soobin says, “we'll need enough to last us a week or so. Taehyun and I can go and get some more fuel tomorrow.”
“I'll help with the packing up,” Yeonjun offers, “I'll stop by the distribution centre for all of our things. Hopefully they’ll still have the suppressants left.”
The once calm scents now smell much too overwhelmingly bitter. Beomgyu rubs his nose; Kai puts a hand on his back, rubbing soothingly despite it all.
“I'll follow Yeonjun-hyung,” Kai tells their pack.
“Kai-yah, it'll definitely take the whole day,” Taehyun shakes his head firmly, “let me go with Yeonjun-hyung. You can go with Soobin-hyung instead. It won't take as long. You need to come home sooner.”
What was supposed to be a peaceful lunch turns into hours of discussions – what to do, where to go, where else to go, and when to leave. Nari fusses at some point, and Beomgyu wonders how they can possibly travel so much with a pup that wakes and fusses for her needs to be met every three hours or so.
They came to this town as a pack of five, and their supplies and baggage had taken up the trunk back then. Could they even have enough room for Nari’s things? Would she go without her makeshift crib? Would they thin out what little clothes and blankets she currently has?
The first of the packing starts when evening rolls around, with them emptying their pantry and deciding which is more important to take – formula, instant meals, biscuits, snacks dense in calories and bottles of water. They pack it all into a bag they found somewhere, and chip away at most of the perishables they have so painstakingly collected. Dinner was a soup full of eggs and greens; perhaps the last time in a while that they will have such a healthy feast.
“We've made it so far,” Taehyun says as he dries the dishes, Nari wiggling in Soobin's arms as the beta attempts to change her diaper next to Beomgyu, “we'll find a new place to live. Someplace better. Yecheon-gun is a small city, maybe their cell service and electrical towers will be more stable than it is here.”
“There are more distribution centres in Yecheon-gun,” Yeonjun says, squeezing the air out of a duffel bag with his hands, “maybe it'll be easier for us to get Nari's formula, and my pain meds too.”
Is Yecheon-gun truly much better? Beomgyu ponders to himself. But it is best to not be so pessimistic, so he tries not to think of the worst case scenarios. It never works, however.
Nari's cry of complaint suddenly keeps the entire building on high alert.
They sleep uneasily that night, the sounds of the infected not far away; it feels as if they're everywhere. No longer hidden in plain sight.
Will there be a happy ending?
_____
Beomgyu is left alone the next morning, Nari napping in her little box as he washes her cloth diapers in a basin, scrubbing away at her dirtied bibs, and his and Kai's underwears, their socks… he then dries them by the balcony, closed off with barbed wire and sheets of metal. He packs their clothes, little by little; he calls his mother when his phone manages to charge completely.
“My Beomgyu,” she sighs in relief, her voice cracking through the screen, “how are you and Hueningie? How is Nari?”
“How are you, eomma?” Beomgyu asks first. His mother had to be evacuated too; two weeks prior to this, she had told Beomgyu she would have to go. It's strange to think his childhood home is empty now. Without his father's songs, and his mother's laughter. “You're with Aeju-eomonie now, are you?”
“Yes, I've left with Aeju, and her son,” his mother nods assuringly, and suddenly the knots in Beomgyu's chest loosens just a little. “They had us take tests at the checkpoint, it took a while before we could leave. We're safe now, we drove to Aeju’s mother's house.”
“That's far away,” Beomgyu swallows, suddenly feeling so terribly small. His mother's brows drop, though her smile is warmer, as if to reassure. A parrot climbs onto her shoulder; Beomgyu smiles at the sight of Toto. He is much more quiet, but well, regardless.
“Yes, I will be safe, my Cookie,” he almost tears up at the name. When was the last time he heard his father call him that? “Beomhyun is safe too. You should call him sometime. He asked me about you.”
“I will,” Beomgyu nods, and, in a voice heavier with burden, “eomma, I'll visit you when it gets better.”
“I know you will,” she smiles, “my sons are the loveliest sons in the world.”
“I don't know where we'll go,” he tells her, “but Kai, Nari and I will be safe. All of us will be well.”
“It will be okay, I trust that it will,” he hears her saying, and he buries her words deep within his chest; ribs protecting the heart, and epicardium shielding her words away from the rest of the world, “is Nari sleeping, dear?”
“She didn't sleep well last night,” Beomgyu says, “and now she's out like a light.”
With his mother keeping him distracted for the rest of the early afternoon, he manages to pack away his and Kai's clothes, and stuff a little bit of Nari’s clothes into it too. The thought of disassembling their nest feels far too overwhelming, so he leaves it for when Kai comes back. Nari cries for his scent; he soaks her with it, their little pup holding onto Beomgyu's glasses as she coos, and plays with the clothings in their nest.
“You'll have to be good, Nari-yah,” Beomgyu pats her softly. “When we get out, you'll have to promise that you will try your best not to cry.”
Nari coos, turning her head to look at him. She has Kai's triple eyelids, and his round, brown eyes. A terrific combination. “Nari will do very well, hm?”
He picks up Nari, and the little one smiles. Beomgyu cherishes it; kissing the top of her nose. “Our Nari is the best baby. The prettiest lily in the world.”
Footsteps echo from the stairway. Beomgyu turns to the door, waiting expectantly for Kai to unlock it; to hold him and their daughter in their arms and tell them all about their day outside.
Kai comes in and does just that, and with the help of the rest of their pack, they pack away the last of their items into recycling bags, and Kai and Yeonjun braves the outside to stuff their trunk full, filling the tank with the bottle of petrol they acquired earlier in the morning. It isn't much, but it is enough to take them far. Perhaps a few towns away, if the roads aren't too congested.
They plan to leave the very next dawn, leaving behind foods they cannot take with them, a portion of their clothes, and other things scavengers like them will certainly find useful someday.
Beomgyu holds onto his mate a little closer that night, taking in all of his pheromones for comfort, letting him scent his body until it eventually manages to relax.
_____
They are given a specific window of time and directions to leave, and by Thursday morning, their car is packed full with clothes, bottles of water, and foods, amongst other things.
Nari is bundled up with a bunch of towels, and wrapped with a scented shirt for comfort. Beomgyu cradles Nari securely in his arms as they take the four flights of stairs down to the car. The apartment above the shops that they have resided in for the past eleven months – its rusted metal doors, creaking floors, and everything they have made do with – leaving their sight and sound, replaced with the slight commotion coming from the outside; not from just them, but the people living close by as well, all leaving, all bidding their farewells.
Kai stands protectively behind them, his scent spiking with caution and worry the closer they are to the outside.
Beomgyu has not stepped foot out of the building in months. When he does, the crunch of a twig beneath his shoe makes his heart pound.
Nari must sense her father's anxiety, for she begins to whine at Beomgyu's souring scent. Beomgyu bites his lip.
Yeonjun, Soobin and Taehyun are all crowding around the car, as if to shield away the open streets behind them; as if to make Beomgyu feel safely framed.
“Is everything ready?” Kai asks softly, taking the driver's seat. Soobin opens the door to the back; Beomgyu enters their (well, it was really his and Kai's back then) car. It's spacious, bought with the intention to move around Kai's drum kits and equipment with ease. Although only two years old, the car looked as if it had seen better days than these. The leather seats scratched in places, dirt and pebbles tracked all around the mats, and some stains Beomgyu cannot discern.
“We've finished switching out the flat tyre,” Taehyun says, his sweater splotchy with dust and dirt as he wipes the sweat from his forehead, “We just need to move this old tyre somewhere. Oh, and grab the last few things. I think Yeonjun-hyung said he left them…”
The teddy bear keychain still hangs from the rear view mirror. Soobin closes the door shut, and Beomgyu is grateful that the car isn't too cold, as he ticks a stray cloth into Nari's makeshift swaddle-
THUD!
A loud bang against the door shakes the car violently.
Kai sits up, a look of horror flashing across his eyes as he takes in the chaos that has suddenly befallen upon them outside of the car.
Soobin's back is splayed across the rear window like the world had closed in onto him. There are figures behind him; Beomgyu feels dread filling his chest at the gnarly grunts, and the greyed and green skin of an infected, merely inches away from their pack mate; their leader.
“Soobin-hyung-!”
“Get the gun, quick!” He hears Yeonjun's muffled voice. Taehyun rushes to grab onto the nearest weapon, but another zombie has approached, this time a much taller one, with eyes clouded over. Taehyun swings a bottle against its head; the glass shatters, and blood pools, but the zombie still charges forward, its mind no longer understanding pain; its eyes white, rolled over, as its arms swipe aimlessly towards Taehyun's direction.
The guns. Where are the guns?
“No,” Beomgyu cries, shielding Nari from the gruesome scene. The guns aren't with them. They are right by the stairway, Beomgyu saw it when he came out just then – steadied against the wall, as Taehyun was far too busy with the spare tyres.
They are cornered by the gates of the building; the only way to go is into the building once more.
The opposite of where they're supposed to go.
“Hyung!” Kai screams, uncaring of his volume. Soobin, pressed against the vehicle, struggles his way out of the infected's forceful cornering, narrowly escaping the zombie's blood-crusted jaw. On his shirt are five trails of dried, flaking blood, running down his hoodie, “Get in!”
Neither Soobin, Yeonjun, nor Taehyun, can even have a chance of entering the car. They know this. The two, now three zombies, have cornered their pack, with another one limping towards the vehicle. They had been attracted by the sounds; these zombies are immune to sunlight, or perhaps it had been far too early in the morning for them to feel its effects. Nari wails at the scent of distress, thick in the air. Beomgyu thinks he might throw up, or faint. Maybe it's not real. Maybe it's all just one of his nightmares-
“Fuck, get out, Kai!” Yeonjun shouts, swinging a bat towards the zombies. They backed away somewhat, but their arms are outstretched to the three of them, fingers inches away from Taehyun's face, “Get out! Go!”
“But-” Beomgyu stammers, heart beating against his throat. Nari cries, and God does Beomgyu wish he can soothe her, but try as he might his focus is switching between their crying pup, his mate, with his eyes widened, his fingers clutching so tightly on the wheel, and their pack, outside – Soobin and Yeonjun holding back the three zombies from entering the building, while Taehyun is frantically unlatching the barricades on the door. From the rear view mirror, Beomgyu spots a few hazy figures more.
THUD! THUD! THUD!
A zombie bangs its rotting fist against the window on the other side of the backseats. It growls, pressing its body to the glass, as if desperate to break in. Between the groans, the crying, the ringing in his ear, Beomgyu feels sick, his vision misted over as he sees Soobin waving frantically towards them, mouthing “GO, GO, GET AWAY.”
And Kai, between the choice of opening the door and risking everything for the slim chance of saving his pack mates, or to escape with his mate and child before the zombies could actually break into the car, chooses the latter.
He steps onto the pedal, and the car backs away from the building, much to Beomgyu's utter horror.
One moment his heart is pounding in his trachea, and the next moment it's dove straight to his stomach, his arms no longer parting Nari as he turns, and watch Soobin, Yeonjun, and Taehyun, against half a dozen and more of the infected.
No one to save them. No one who will…
They left them.
“Kai,” Beomgyu's voice comes out as a trembling whisper, “why-”
“I'm sorry, hyung,” Kai's voice is no different. He sounds as if he is attempting to swallow a boulder, his expression looking as if he has aged a decade older. “I… I can't. I can't risk helping them. You'll be hurt, too. The zombies-”
Beomgyu wants to yell. Wants to tell him how absurd it is, for them to leave their pack behind.
But even in the midst of turmoil he understands – that while it was unfair, and nothing was right, that was the most correct thing he could do. To choose between a pack, or a mate and child…
Beomgyu, who once adamantly believed this was not something one should have to choose, would pick the latter, too.
Is this the end? They hadn't even had dinner together today. Hadn't said goodnight, hadn't made it back to Seoul…
“The guns are still in the building,” Kai exhales. They are out of the alley now, and it seemed too peaceful here. There are cars moving towards the exit’s direction. Kai follows, a few other cars trailing behind them. The further they go, the more Beomgyu wishes to go back, foolish as it may seem. “I… they'll be able to fight them. I trust they can. We'd fought worse. If Taehyun could send an alert…”
If Taehyun could make it into the building, take the guns, and send an alert through his phone, the military stationed nearby would help. But would it be far too late, then?
Beomgyu saw Yeonjun struggling to pull his phone out of his pocket. Did he send it? Or did they…
No, no, no>. Beomgyu swallows. He can't even stomach the idea of them being infected. They can't. He refuses to think of it. If he thinks of it, maybe it'll be true. He bites his tongue, and swallows his tears. Nari is still wailing distressingly in his arms; he holds her closer, inhaling the now bitter scent of her hair. Any pheromones he released now will be the furthest thing from calming, and his heart aches at the thought of prolonging his baby's upset for even longer.
“Kai…”
Kai turns around to meet Beomgyu's eyes. He looks exhausted, far different from the Kai this morning.
Will they be okay, he wants to ask, to his mate without an answer, to the void, perhaps. Anyone who would listen. Will they survive, and will we meet again. How soon? Where? How will they be, then?
“They have to be okay,” he musters all the strength within him to say instead. “We have to see them again.”
Kai's expression falls. His eyes are red, his breaths shaking, still holding that boulder in place, in case it crushes all of him apart.
“I'm sorry,” he says, blinking. When he opens his eyes, there are tears around his lash line, “I’m sorry that you have to be the stronger one.”
“Oh, Kai-yah…”
“You're right,” Kai says. Nari is calmer now, looking at her father with swollen eyes, and trails of drying tears on her rosy cheeks. “We've dealt with worse. Taehyun went in- he took the guns. They have to be okay.”
“We'll call them when there's service again,” Beomgyu says, although he isn't sure when that may be. “There's… there's not much left in the building,” he remembers suddenly. They have packed everything into the trunk of the car. What was left in the building…
“Taehyun and Yeonjun's backpacks are still with them,” Kai says, “it's- they haven't put them in the trunk yet. I didn't see them when I closed the trunk.”
Right. But Soobin's backpack is with them – the one with the most snacks, and supplements.
“-ans there's still some food in the building too,” Kai adds. In the distance, gunshots can be heard. It seems they aren't the only house being ambushed so abruptly.
The foods left in the pantry can last three grown adults for two days. Three, if they ration their portions well enough. Beomgyu wonders how they are now. There isn't cell service yet; his phone receives no calls, no messages. An eerie, unbearable quiet.
They reach the checkpoint eventually. Barricades are built around the evacuation exit, and military guards allow the cars to go, one by one. Not without flashing a lurid white light into the car – those infected with the disease develop a strong fear of light. Especially flashing ones; Beomgyu shields Nari's eyes. They stop their car by the checkpoint, once they are cleared to leave. A soldier comes up to their vehicle with a raised brow.
“Is anything the matter?” The officer asks. He's young – younger than Beomgyu, maybe even younger than Kai. A boy enlisted into training, ending up serving the nation in the grimmest way. Nari curls into her father's arms. The officer's gaze softens.
“We want to ask if it's possible for you to help us trace any potential alerts from an hour ago,” Kai tells the boy. “There was an ambush. Four, five zombies attacked some in our pack. We had to leave before they could join us. We were wondering if they'd sent an alert; if any help made it their way.”
The officer gave a difficult look. “We can try. Where do they reside, sir?”
Kai gives them the building and the neighbourhood’s name. The officer tells them he'll try his best, and walks back to the station, joined by other officers more or less his age.
They do not have to wait for long. A few cars gather beside them, close to the checkpoint, perhaps to ask for their loved ones as well.
The officer walks to Kai's window. The sky behind him is grey, heralding storm and thunder.
“There was one alert traced back to that neighbourhood around that time frame,” he tells Kai, “help was sent their way. We are not sure what happened, however, so we cannot be of much help. I'm sorry.”
Beomgyu feels his heart failing him. An hour ago. It all happened an hour ago. Wouldn't the officers receive updates of the alert, if the military sent to help Yeonjun, Soobin, and Taehyun, made it back safely?
He doesn't know how it all works. But there must be a way- some system in place for a situation like this. Is there?
“I see,” Beomgyu cannot see his mate's expression, but Kai's grip on the steering wheel tightened slightly, his shoulders more tense than they had been.
“There is something we can do,” the officer tells them, “I can send the patrolling team in that area a message to conduct a welfare check in that building. If there's anything, I may be able to update you. Cell service is said to return briefly tomorrow night, in this province.”
“That will be much appreciated,” Kai tells him. “Thank you. Can I leave my number with you?”
“Sure, sir,” the officer pulls out a notepad from his pocket conveniently, along with a pen. From the backseat, Beomgyu sees many names and numbers scribbled on its pages already. “Please write down your loved ones’ names as well.”
After that is done, Kai rolls up his window once more, a sigh escaping his lips as he turns to look at Beomgyu, and Nari, who smiles when she sees her father, her arm reaching towards Kai's direction.
Kai's shoulders relax, watching Nari as if she is the panacea to all of their worries and fears.
They cannot stay here for long – many more cars will park here, for either a short moment of guaranteed protection, or to ask for someone's whereabouts. The cars around them all have little children within them, many asleep, and some walking around outside for fresh air, guarded by the officers by the checkpoint. They need to leave. But leaving feels even more alien now.
“I hope we'll hear from Yeonjun and Soobin, and Taehyun themselves,” Kai says. Beomgyu agrees with a hum. He tries not to picture them receiving a call from the officer – only to be told the building was empty, and clad with blood.
That, perhaps, Yeonjun, Soobin, and Taehyun, were all turning into the infected.
Don't think about it, he tells himself. Don't think too much if it'll only make you so upset.
But what if it's true?What if this is all just him preparing himself for the news, or worse, some sort of premonition? Something his intuition is nudging at him to accept?
He inhales sharply, and it is then Nari smacks her lips, and whines and turns her head towards Beomgyu's chest. It is time for her to be fed again.
“Let's keep driving after Nari is fed,” he tells Kai. Kai agrees, and, despite the tormenting emotions that must still stir in his chest, he releases his own calming pheromones that Beomgyu so craves, enveloping the car, and soothing their little one to feed.
Kai gets out of the car to join Beomgyu in the backseat. Nari latches onto Beomgyu's nipple skillfully, suckling as she looks at Beomgyu, and then, Kai. The noises she makes as she feeds are almost therapeutic.
“Her lashes are so long,” Kai murmurs. Beomgyu rests his head on his mate's shoulder, grateful to have Kai closer to him.
“How are you, Kai-yah?” He whispers, his hand searching for his husband's fingers. Kai laces their hands together, and swallows tightly. He feels heavier; his hand holds him in a way that is different.
“I'll be fine,” Kai tells him. “I- we just need to believe they'll be alright.”
“They will,” Beomgyu tells him, “you always come home to me. They always come back.”
Kai kisses the top of his head, and they share the silence for the next ten, fifteen minutes. Nari stops drinking eventually; Beomgyu would much prefer to feed her formula, seeing as his production of milk has decreased gradually, and it hurts to feed Nari now. But they are short on bottles – short on places where they will be able to clean them.
Kai offers to burp their pup; Nari squirms into Kai's embrace happily, and Beomgyu takes this time to drink, and clean his face. His arms are sore.
“Are we still going to Yecheon-gun?” He asks Kai when Nari is done burping, a little bit of thrown-up milk staining Kai's shirt. They really need to go; there are many more cars now, and it will take forever to drive to the highway, at this rate.
“They will most likely go to Yecheon-gun when they leave,” Kai guesses, “or at least in the same direction. It's best if we drive there.”
The storm is so close to them now, a few drops of rain hitting the roof of their car. They hastily make a bed for Mari next to Beomgyu – rolled up sweaters and towels as the frame, and a blanket draped on top, its extra fabric tucked to secure the makeshift mattress fully. Kai returns to the driver's seat; they would take turns driving, they've decided, but with only the two of them the drive may take longer than they had initially hoped it would be.
They join the line of cars towards the highway. The line moves sluggishly through abandoned paddy farms, but is much smoother after they have turned to the highway, Nari already fast asleep by then.
A desperate wish remains unspoken between him and Kai – to turn back, drive back to the building, to see if Yeonjun, Soobin, and Taehyun are alright. To have them in this car, to drive away with them.
But there is no way to go back now, with the storm and mist rolling in, making the roads ahead barely-legible, and the view behind them naught but headlights and the occasional lightning.
They drive, they drive, and they drive.
When night comes, Beomgyu takes over the wheel, and Kai holds Nari closer than Beomgyu thought would be possible, releasing calming pheromones to soothe the unsettled pup once more. His evergreen scent smells slightly charred, betraying his seemingly unbothered facade.
And they go further, and further, as further as they can.
They don't stop, they don't find another building to call their own.
It feels wrong to do something so significant without the rest of the pack by their site.
_____
They stop by a small town on the second evening, staying in a shelter with many other families like them. The shelter is a junior high school, the classrooms’ tables pushed away or aside, making way for dusty gymnasium mattresses, and hastily thrown-on blankets. Children are free to run about the corridors here, but not permitted to scream; their parents make do with what they have, and bathe their pups with the bidets in toilet stalls, or the few available showers by the gym. The water is freezing cold, and Beomgyu spends all evening scrubbing Nari's diapers in the washing stations erected by the fields.
This shelter is one of the few along the way to Yecheon. If Yeonjun, Soobin, and Taehyun were to stop by, it's likely they would stop here for supplies.
Dinner is a simple affair of crackers and kimchi stew. The fences around the school hold large flashing lights that turn on as soon as the sun begins to set. Beomgyu can hardly stomach dinner, for he's been waiting for night to come all day; for the cell services to be available once more, for any news of their pack.
It seems they aren't alone. A suspenseful silence fills the hall as eight o'clock rolls around, and soon, phones begin to buzz all around – including Kai's, with a message from an unknown number they have practically etched into their minds by now.
“They said the building was empty,” Kai reads the messages over and over again. After all, an empty building could mean two very different things.
“Did they see the backpacks?” Beomgyu questions, reading the screen as well, “the guns? Was there blood?”
“There was nothing at the entrance,” Kai answers. Well, that could mean two different things too. “They say no one answered the door, but the door was unlocked.”
Kai swipes the call icon in his phone, and selects Taehyun's contact. They wait, and wait-
No one answers.
This can also mean many things, Beomgyu tells himself, his heart racing as he feels Kai leaning closer, their bodies seeking each other's comfort. The scent around them thickens with both upset and relief, and Nari cries at the unfamiliar smells, her hand limbs wiggling uncomfortably.
They call Yeonjun, and Soobin as well, before realising Soobin's phone is in their car. They leave messages; they aren't seen for the rest of the night. Until cell service becomes unstable once more, following a pattern of slow connections, or none at all.
Beomgyu wipes the tears off of his eyes as they lay in a room full of strangers, none of them carrying the scents they are so familiar with.
The night is long with Nari fussing herself into short bouts of sleep. Before long, dawn breaks the previously stormy day, and shows a gentle blue sky, with thick, white clouds.
They break fast while talking with the people around their table, one of whom shoving her portion of steamed buns to Beomgyu's plate.
“You're still breastfeeding your baby,” she insists, “eat, eat more.
Beomgyu barely has any appetite to stomach the porridge, let alone buns. His stomach growls and churns angrily, yet there isn't any will within him to be full. He thanks the lady, regardless, wrapping the buns safely in a towel, and feeding Nari her morning bottle while Kai prepares their car once more.
“You're leaving for Yecheon-gun?” They hear a young lady say. A petite woman with an unassuming scent, and children of her own. “They closed down the entrances to Yecheon-gun yesterday. There was a big outbreak in one of their neighbourhoods, and they’ve sent out evacuation notices. My brother had to leave.”
“Oh,” Kai looks at Beomgyu. Beomgyu can hear the gears turning in his head. “Thank you for telling us. Where are you heading, miss?”
“We're staying here a few days more,” she tells him, a heavy exhale escaping her lips, “one of our kids is sick. We're not going until his fever breaks. But if you still plan on going west,” she gestures towards the gates of the school, where very few people gather, “you go along the same highway to Yecheon-gun anyways, but just take the left exit right before the toll to Yecheon-gun. The villages there are still open, if you plan on finding a more permanent place to stay.”
They will need to stop by a distribution centre, and register themselves there, for Nari to be able to receive her formula, and Beomgyu his vitamins, and their suppressants in an easier way.
A village may be good – rural, full of elders who are rarely out of their homes, unless for necessities. Perhaps there would be less zombies there, although with Yecheon-gun sending evacuation orders, even the smallest of villages would be brimmed with passersby like them. The evacuation of Seoul had overwhelmed its nearby towns’ infrastructures enough. They should go quicker, if they were to find a temporary shelter. Perhaps Yeonjun, Soobin, and Taehyun would be able to reach out to them then, although Beomgyu isn't sure if that's even possible by now.
Kai thanks the young lady, exchanging goods with her – vitamin supplements for formula, which her children no longer need as much.
“Are we going towards Yecheon-gun, still?” Beomgyu asks, securing Nari in the makeshift mattress. Nari is fast asleep after breakfast, overwhelmed and exhausted. Kai nuzzles his nose to Beomgyu's nape when he gets the chance, inhaling his scent, even though Beomgyu is sure it's not as pleasant.
“We'll go where she mentioned,” Kai tells him, “is that alright, jagi-yah? The road will be a bit longer this time.”
Beomgyu shakes his head, his hands wrapping around Kai's waist. Kai has always had a broad figure, one that Beomgyu thinks is perfect for hugging, and cuddling to, “I don't mind. We can't really stay here. Nari, she's…”
“Yeah,” Kai sighs. “It's okay. We'll do it. We always do. We’ll keep contacting Yeonjun-hyung and Taehyunnie, and we'll go to the shelters near Yecheon-gun. They might be heading there.”
Hopeful, bordering on delusional thinking, given what they've seen yesterday. But it’s rare for a realist such as Kai to say something unrealistic, so Beomgyu tries to believe it too.
They get into the car once more, their bodies still sore from yesterday's journey.
Nari snores softly, her milky scent calming as they turn towards the highway once more. Beomgyu cradles her when she wakes; she has recently learned to smile. The world seems to fall away whenever she smiles. The rise and fall of her chest, and the little wiggles she makes as she dreams – it makes everything worth living for. Beomgyu watches her sleep.
Their night is spent in the car, parked by a rest stop, with abandoned shops and rows of barely functioning washrooms. They receive no messages from Yeonjun and Taehyun; the messages they'd sent the night before were left unread.
A horrible, sickening dread circles around their car, and inches in like the stormy clouds that night.
Still, they drive, and go, and never look back; it's not as if they have a choice to stay at any shelter for longer than a weekend. Shelters are dangerous in their own right; an outbreak erupted in the shelter they'd stayed in the previous night, and Beomgyu wonders if the lady and her children made it out alright.
The three steamed buns, now cold and stale, sit heavier in his palms than they did in the morning.
Nari sleeps much better in the car, but with limited fuel, they cannot spend another night in here if they wish to reach the next toll with some fuel to spare.
“We're lucky we didn't get the electric car, huh?” Kai smiles as they find an emptied house to stay for the night. The neighbours next door are wary as they greet them; in a town and a time like this, anyone would be.
There isn't electricity, and the house is dark. But the gates are left open like a lot of emptied houses are nowadays. Kai is careful to not let it creak too much.
They sleep on an actual mattress that day, but come noon, they leave again.
And still, there are no signs of Soobin, Yeonjun and Taehyun still being alive. Nothing that tells Beomgyu and Kai the three of them are heading west, just like them.
For all they know, their packmates have all been infected.
With every message Beomgyu receives and replies to – his mother's, his brother's, and his friends’, and even Soobin's mother's, the growing stone that has been rolling and fumbling in his chest thins the veins that carries all of his blood in and away. There are moments where it does not feel like he is breathing; only an aching heavy, one little thread away from spiralling.
Kai looks at his mate sympathetically as they pull the gates shut behind them.
Did Kai even manage to sleep much last night? There are circles beneath his eyes, despite them waking up much later today.
“Don't worry about me, jagi-yah,” he tells him. “Seeing you and Nari makes it much easier.”
Nari yawns, inhaling a large gulp of spring air. She squirms and stretches in Kai's arms, and a small smile manages to emerge from Kai's lips as she coos.
The drive through the small mining town is filled with plum trees full of the most fuschia blooms.
Had there not been an outbreak, perhaps they would have brought her to the botanical garden in Seoul around this time of the year.
But Beomgyu drives back to the highway, and focuses on nothing but the road ahead.
_____
It has been a week since they've evacuated, and somewhere in Beomgyu's heart has begun to accept that maybe they will never see their packmates ever again.
They have made it to Wolpo-ri, a small, quiet village, now a shelter for many residents of nearby evacuated towns and villages. The roads to the three shelters are lined with cars – even cars registered to places as far as Busan can be found, parked by and into people's homes, whether family or not.
This shelter is in a small elementary school. Tents erected in the courtyard for medical uses, old supply closets turned into logistic centres… Wolpo has a beach, and shellfishes and seaweeds are abundant. They have seaweed soup at night. It leaves a slimy aftertaste in Beomgyu's mouth, but he drinks another bowl, hoping it makes him somewhat healthier.
They have been here since yesterday afternoon, having driven a long, jam-filled journey along the highway, making many stops to keep little Nari clean and comfortable. Nari's cloth diapers are hanging against the opened windows now, and Beomgyu and Kai can at least be relieved that she will have clean clothes soon, for all the ones she has soiled and spit up on.
There are many children in this shelter. Some are crawling along the playground’s tunnels, and going down the slides. It's still much too quiet.
Beomgyu, wiping down Nari's body with warmed water, watches as the children draw houses on the sand pit outside the bathrooms, full of petals and pebbles.
“This is my apartment in Daegu,” one of them told the other. “It has a big kitchen. My little brother sleeps with eomma. I sleep in this room.”
“My house in Yecheon,” another girl points to the sand, “eomma and mama said when I'm ten, I'll get my own room.”
“I have a garden in my house,” another chimes in. It sounds far too normal, and so it feels a little sad.
“Halmeoni told me there's ghosts there when the sun goes down,” the little boy says, and the children around him gasp.
Nari squirms and smiles at the warm rag wetting her skin, and next to him, Kai stands by with Nari's towel, and her clothes, lest she catches a cold.
They are running low on clothes for Nari's ever growing body. She's a week shy from turning three months old now, and some of her onesies feel a little too short on her.
Perhaps they can ask around the other parents in the shelter.
For now, they dab some ointment onto the rash on Nari's feet, and bundle her up in two onesies, before wrapping her with the towel as they take her back to the main school building. Nari naps soon after feeding; Kai asks around for bigger clothes, and they give some of Nari's away.
Night falls, and it almost feels self-deluding, their eyes immediately going to their packmates’ group chat.
Did they really just leave their friends alone to die?
_____
It is their fourth day in the shelter. Nari has since acclimated to sleeping in a room with strangers.
With nowhere else to go, they plan on staying here until they may return to the town near Daegu once more. Or maybe until Beomgyu's mother is able to return to her house; they may live with her then, although seeing the situation in Daegu, that might just be yet another dream.
They are together by the trunk of their car today, Kai having promised to trade a few specific foods for some mittens and socks for Nari. They go through the many things they have brought with them – Soobin's backpack rests against the very left of the trunk, unopened, with his phone still tucked in the side pocket.
It's almost painful to see.
Thunder can be heard rolling along the seas. Soon it will rain, and the weather will be so cold again.
Kai goes through their supply of food, held together by a grocery store box, at the end of its use.
“They say they want any sugary snacks,” Kai tells Beomgyu, with Nari wrapped around his chest – something he was taught to do by an old granny they share a room with. “I wonder if these are still carbonated at all,” Kai murmurs, pulling out a big bottle of Sprite – a luxury nowadays. A comfort food. Kai shakes the bottle slightly, and there isn't as much fizz anymore. But it will do.
“I don't think they mind the fizziness if it's for low blood sugar, Kai-yah,” Beomgyu states, Nari cooing right against him. Kai takes out a few more sweets, and places them into a small plastic bag.
“This should be enough,” he says. From some distance away, he hears a few voices that sound a little too excited to be here. A little too loud, given the circumstance, and a little too familiar.
He must be dreaming of them now, even when awake.
“There! We found them!”
Huh.
Beomgyu turns to look-
“HYUKA! BEOMGYU-HYUNG!”
It is Taehyun who calls for them, waving his arms with a wide, triumphant smile, and his eyes practically glowing. Beomgyu cannot believe himself- he looks at Kai, only to find his mate equally as stunned.
Is this truly happening?
“Taehyun?” Kai calls back. Taehyun jumps, and soon, Yeonjun and Soobin appear from the side as well, their eyes widened.
Oh. They are alive.
We're all alive.
Beomgyu feels like pinching himself, his heart racing as they step closer to the three of them, only to be crushed by a tight, almost painful embrace, if not for the fact that they are all okay, and they are all together again.
Their scents, altogether, smells like home.
“I can't believe we found you here,” Soobin says. Yeonjun has tears welling in his eyes, and Beomgyu breaks down when he watches his dear friend cry.This is real. This is really, really real-
“I'm so sorry,” he hears Kai's wavering voice. “I-”
“Don't apologise for something you couldn't even do, Kai-yah,” Taehyun insists, his lips trembling, before he looks all of them in the face and breaks into the most relieved grin. “It's- we told you to go. You had to. If you'd stayed there…”
“It was such a mess, but we survived,” is all Taehyun says. “Oh, Beomgyu-hyung, Nari… we were so worried we'd never find you three.”
“We were, too,” Beomgyu sobs, rubbing his tears away when Nari raises her arms to his cheeks. “What happened? We- we called, and sent so many messages when we could-”
“We should head inside before we talk about that,” Taehyun suggests, gesturing towards the sky- is that a wound down his arm? “It looks like it's going to rain again.”
_____
They sit together in the cafeteria, cups of warm water warming their hands as the rain begins to fall outside. Beomgyu has to look, again and again, just to believe they are all here once more. Of all places, the shelter of a small fishing village…
“Yeonjun-hyung and Taehyun both sent alerts,” Soobin recalls. He looks thinner, but still healthy, regardless. “After you left, there were more zombies- we didn't realise there could be so many during the day. But some soldiers came. Taehyun managed to get the guns, too. We took them out. Taehyun got a big scratch down his arm from the fences, so we spent a night in the hospital. Then we asked some people if anyone could drive us out of town.”
They take turns telling the full story – how the people from the fishery had offered to drive them out with their vans, and how they packed as much as they could fit in their backpacks before they left. Going from shelter to shelter, place to place, asking anyone if Beomgyu and Kai and a two month old baby had been there.
“They told us Yecheon-gun was under lockdown,” Yeonjun says, “but we still kept going west anyway. We managed to take a car to Wolpo-ri. We thought, if Yecheon was closed… this was the closest we could get to it. The best option, since we thought you'd be going to Yecheon as well.”
“Our phones are basically dead,” Taehyun adds. “Yeonjun-hyung’s broke in the fight. Mine ran out of charge, and it was almost impossible to charge it. We wanted to borrow someone else's phones – maybe we could call you then – but the connection was so unstable, and we were always somewhere remote.”
“We almost thought we'd never see you again,” Soobin whispers, his fingers playing with the handle of the plastic cup, “but- now that we're all here, we can be together again. That's the biggest comfort.”
“We thought we wouldn't be able to see you guys again as well,” Kai sighs, resting his arm behind Beomgyu's back. “I'm just relieved that we are all alive.”
“Do you two plan on staying here?” Taehyun asks. “Soobin and Yeonjun-hyung and I have just arrived, maybe two hours ago. How long have you been staying here?”
“Our fourth day,” Beomgyu answers. “And, no. Kai and I wanted to stay here only because we thought we wouldn't see you three again. It would be safer here, if that was true… but now that we're all here…”
“It'll be better if we find another place to settle in,” Kai tells them, “somewhere remote. Where we don't have to evacuate again, but somewhere still close enough to get the things we'll need.”
“Sounds difficult,” Yeonjun furrows his brows, “all of the rural village houses we came across have already been occupied. The empty shops, too.”
“But we can get some fuel, and maybe if we drive further west, we'll find something promising,” Taehyun suggests, “everyone's going south, from what's happening in Yecheon and the towns around it. The highway going towards Yecheon’s toll is almost empty. The map says there are many villages north of Yecheon. Maybe we can make it there.”
“It'll be a long drive,” Beomgyu pats Nari, “but it's possible if we make a few stops along the way.”
“Should we do it?” Soobin asks, “do we have enough to do it?”
“We'll make it work,” Kai says, “let's check what we still have left. See if it'll last us a few more days.”
_____
They end up staying in the shelter in Wolpo-ri for two more days, mostly to exchange for the supplies they'll need on the road, and to purchase some extra fuel for their car, now completely full with all of their backpacks, and five people sitting in it.
Yeonjun offers to drive the first stretch of the road, with Taehyun as the guide as he studies the map he has downloaded. Soobin, Kai, and Nari sit together in the backseat; it's a blessing that the car is large enough, otherwise it would be suffocatingly crowded.
They make their way to the toll, and drive by the highway right beside Yecheon, closed off for the foreseeable future. The amount of military checkpoints increase as they drive along, and, after spending a night by a petrol station, Soobin drives them out of Yecheon’s city, and into Hahak-ri.
On the third day, they make a turn into Daeje-ri, a small village so closed off that there are barely any cars not registered to the Gyeongsangbuk province.
There are fewer houses, however, and all of them occupied by its original inhabitants. They ask around about the village, and are given the directions to the distribution centre – a small building amongst three rows of shops, a small distance away from the neighbourhoods.
The day is getting darker. They drive along the main village road, before turning right, hoping to return to the highway to drive to the nearest shelter in Hahak-ri once more.
“What about there?” Soobin points to a blocky structure. On closer look, it seems like a fortified building of sorts, with stone walls more than two Soobins tall. With long grass growing abundant around it, and no vehicles parked, it's obviously empty, if not a little eerie.
“What a strange building,” Beomgyu notes. “It doesn't look like the rest of the buildings in the village.”
“That's because… it's a prison. A small one, but it looks like it's long abandoned.”
A prison… Beomgyu thinks, of all places, he didn't imagine going to jail tonight.
“It's better than risking driving at night back to Hahak,” Soobin says. With that, he takes a turn to the gates of the building, and Kai and Taehyun volunteer to push the gates open.
The interior of the prison is obviously worn, with decorations decades old and portraits of mayors and officers in black and white. But the emergency lights of the building still function, possibly because they are powered by the solar panels outside.
“...it is safe,” Yeonjun says, “none of the windows and doors have been broken in.”
With the violet evening light slithering through the windows, the small holding cells almost look hopeful, in some strange, inexplicable way. There are thin mattresses, and there's a well outside. Beomgyu wonders if the village still supplies electricity to this place; if this building has only recently been abandoned, or emptied out long before the outbreak.
The visitor logs seem to lean towards the former.
“They could hold around two hundred people here at a time,” Taehyun reads, “apparently this place was built to boost the villages’ economy, since there weren't enough young people working.”
“A prison could be a safe place for us,” Kai says, “it has everything we need, doesn't it? And it's fortified so well. If we barricade the entrance, we'll not have to worry about the zombies coming in.”
“That's true,” Soobin nods, “and we're only a short drive away from the village, if we need anything.”
“Maybe we can make this work,” Yeonjun suggests, “what do you guys think? Beomgyu?”
Beomgyu looks around at his packmates, his dearest friends, and then to his little daughter, sound asleep against his chest.
This could work. They could make it work.
“It's doable,” he says, humming in approval, “it feels safe here.”
“Soobin and I will go check around the whole building then,” Yeonjun offers. “Let's move our things to the cells. It'll be safer if we sleep there.”
And so they unload the trunk, one by one, until night eventually falls and Yeonjun and Soobin have deemed the rest of the building to be safe, even scouting the cafeteria for any non-perishable goods, and lifting bags of flour, sugar, and salt up triumphantly, along with bags of tea, and even crackers and soup bases and most importantly, a whole tank of rice.
“It has bugs in it,” Soobin says, “but if we put it out in the sun tomorrow they'll all be gone.”
The night is spent in the dim darkness of the holding cells, instant noodles bubbling on the stove tops, along with the last bits of dried vegetables they have.
Kai holds him close that night. It's an odd and funny sight, without context – a couple and their infant daughter in a holding cell, cuddling together. But they envelop one another in each other's scent, and Nari sleeps so soundly that night.
Finally, a moment of respite.
And when morning comes, Kai offers to update their registrations at the distribution centre, and Soobin and Yeonjun build a barricade around the entrance, while Taehyun finally takes time to heal his wound, making a meal of soup and rice.
When cell services are back on once more, they watch the news with only one bar of connection, as more places turn red, but some of the once red zones return to orange, and yellow, and some even green.
Two districts in Seoul have turned from red to orange, and one into yellow; a small victory that they celebrate so far away from their home city.
The world is far from recovering. Perhaps life would never be the same as it had been; maybe they will return to Seoul one day, but it will be a life they no longer recognise. A life that is foreign, but theirs to claim.
But as they sit by the tiny little screen, their scents merging into one, the night growing older, but brighter… it seems possible that they will survive anything that may come their way.
Now, when Beomgyu looks down, it is to give pairs of shoes, his daughter's head, and the crackling voice from the phone; the red, oranges and yellows filling the screen.
This feels like home.
Anything with the six of them – anything will feel like home.
[END]