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Drawing a deep, steady breath, Ha-ri adjusted her grip on her bow. Deep down, the weight of the last few hours pressed heavily on her chest. Staying separated from the others when the stairwell collapsed had been hard—so, so hard.
(Please still be alive. Please have found somewhere safe to hide.)
They had initially thought the faculty office landline would be their ticket out of this nightmare. The key word in that sentence, however, was thought. Finding a working phone inside the main building turned out to be a total bust; they had burned through far too many arrows just scrambling through the lower corridors to reach the faculty wing yesterday, and even more today. The main building was ground zero, where the vast majority of the infected had congregated.
Hence, the pivot to the archery center. The landline at the athletic desk had a direct outside trunk line—a guaranteed connection to emergency services if they could just reach it.
Yet, when Ha-ri pulled a forgotten, fully charged smartphone out of a gym locker in the storage annex, the relief was so sharp it was mind-blowing. What had happened in that tiny room felt like an absolute miracle.
Oh God. Oh sweet God. This was incredible! Even if the lock screen required an emergency call override without a passcode, it didn't matter—they could dial the police right now! They wouldn't have to risk stepping out into the open courtyard toward the archery center after all.
"I don't believe it!" Mi-jin laughed out loud, tossing her hands up toward the ceiling. "Three whole bars, baby!" Mi-jin crowed, punching the air with her fist.
Ha-ri felt a cold, familiar knot tighten in her gut. How were they this lucky? How had a ragtag group of exhausted teenagers managed to pull this off? A dark, instinctive alarm flared in her mind. Ha-ri was a realist, and the universe always balanced the scales. There was no way they were getting a gift this massive without a ruthless piece of bad luck barreling down the hall to pay for it.
Was something horrific about to happen to the rest of their scattered group? The initial idea had been to split tasks—multitasking to reduce the time spent exposed in a zombie-choked school while gathering supplies and securing help. But if Cheong-san and the others were still moving through the west wing, they were in severe danger. Carrying heavy supply bags through narrow, corpse-filled corridors would impede their speed, leaving them sitting ducks if a horde cut them off.
"Did you hear that?" Mi-jin voiced Ha-ri's exact thoughts, her laughter dying instantly as a blood-curdling scream echoed down the outer corridor.
The sound grew rapidly louder. Mi-jin thrust the glowing phone into Joon-seong's hands as the whole group drifted cautiously toward the high glass windows looking out onto the hallway, tracking the noise.
That’s when they saw the horror unfolding.
The infected had naturally swarmed toward the noise. Based on their observations, sound and scent drove the ghouls far more than sight ever did, so someone screaming bloody murder in an enclosed hallway was like dropping blood into a shark tank.
The crowd of zombies was swirling around a frantic figure plowing up the center of the corridor. As the front line of ghouls got shoved violently into the lockers, the gruesome reality became sickeningly clear.
Someone was using a screaming, bleeding female student as both a human shield and a battering ram, plowing straight through the horde. The dead converged on the poor girl, tearing into her flesh as her shrill shrieks echoed off the concrete, completely distracted by the fresh kill. Meanwhile, the monster hiding behind her casually kicked away any stray zombie that happened to look his way instead.
It was utterly, stomach-turningly monstrous.
"Oh, fuck," Mi-jin breathed.
The blood-covered boy shoved the dying girl into the center of a pack, stepping over her writhing body as he approached their room. He wiped a streak of dark blood across his jaw, a twisted, hollow smirk spreading across his face as his eyes met theirs through the glass panel.
"Well, well," Yoon Gwi-nam drawled, his voice carrying easily through the door frame. "Look at the cozy little family hiding in here."
"Gwi-nam..." Jun-seong started, his voice trembling as he backed away.
"Save it," Gwi-nam interrupted, his bloodshot eyes locking onto the bow in Ha-ri's hands. "I'm not here to chat. I need a distraction to get to the main gates, and you guys look very, very loud."
Yeah, right.
"Over my dead body, crazy," Mi-jin drawled, stepping directly between him and the rest of the group, raising her heavy iron pipe.
For a terrifying, suspended second, total silence fell over the room, broken only by the wet, rhythmic tearing of the horde feeding in the hall outside.
Then all hell broke loose.
What followed was a desperate, violent game of cat-and-mouse within the cramped confines of the classroom. Gwi-nam lunged forward with unnatural, terrifying speed, ignoring pain that would have dropped an ordinary person. They scrambled frantically around upturned desks, ducking under flying chairs as they tried to evade the murderous junior.
When Gwi-nam lunged for Ha-ri's throat, Mi-jin swung her iron pipe with everything she had, cracking him squarely across the side of his skull with a sickening thud.
Gwi-nam stumbled back, roaring in fury as blackish blood trickled down his temple, but before he could recover, Ha-ri barked the only command that mattered: "RUN!"
Beating back the few straggling ghouls that trickled through the broken doorway, they sprinted out into the dark hallway, their boots slapping against the blood-stained tile. They ran like their lives depended on it.
Because in this nightmare, it truly, terrifyingly did.
“Are we sure this is even the right floor?” Min-jae asked frantically, his lungs burning as he adjusted the slipping strap of the heavy supply pack bouncing against his spine. “Everything in this wing looks exactly the same!”
“Shut up and keep moving!” Na-yeon snapped back, her knuckles white as she clutched her makeshift club, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps.
They were hustling down the dim, narrow secondary hallway, the heavy canvas bags packed with food weighing down their shoulders as they tried to trace their steps back to the classroom where they had left the others. The return trip was turning into an absolute gauntlet. They had already survived more than a few heart-stopping close calls—narrowly ducking past straggler zombies that lunged out of darkened doorways or burst around blind corridor corners.
So far, they had managed to survive mostly by dodging, shoving, and knocking the creatures off balance. But actually killing them? Not really. And as a long-term strategy, relying on simple evasive maneuvers was rapidly proving to be complete suicide. These things were unnaturally fast, aggressive, and utterly relentless; unless you shattered their spines or crushed their skulls, they righted themselves within seconds and came sprinting after you all over again.
If we survive this afternoon, Gyeong-su thought through the fog of panic, his heart hammering against his ribs, we are all getting forced into basic combat training.
How totally fucked up was it that high schoolers had to start planning hand-to-hand combat drills just to walk down their own school hallway?
"THEY'RE RIGHT BEHIND US! MOVE YOUR ASSES!" Mi-jin shrieked at them from the back of the line, bringing her heavy iron pipe crashing down on the snout of an infected student who reached out from a broken doorframe.
Yeah, run. That was the only plan left—sprint like hell and pray the barricade at the end of the hall was still standing.
Up high—they needed to get up high, right now. If these brainless ghouls didn't even have the motor skills to turn a metal door handle, there was no way they had the coordination to climb a vertical surface.
"Get up on the racks! Move!" Gyeong-su roared, scrambling onto the edge of a heavy wooden lab bench and hauling himself toward the high utility shelving anchored to the cinderblock wall.
Beside him, Min-jae and the others didn't bother going for the side units; they used the sturdy Oak demonstration tables as launchpads, leaping straight for the heavy metal storage shelves bolted directly in front of them. Metal groaned and rattled under their collective weight as they pulled their feet up just inches above the floor.
A stray infected—its jaw unhinged and uniform slick with dried blood—lunged out from beneath a overturned teacher's desk, its fingers clawing straight for Min-jae's trailing sneaker.
Before it could drag him down, Na-yeon let out a fierce, guttural scream and drove the sharp, broken end of her wooden table leg down with both hands. The heavy point slammed straight through the creature's eye socket with a sickening, wet crunch. The corpse instantly went limp, collapsing face-first against the bottom rung.
"GET UP, YOU IDIOT!" Na-yeon shouted at him, her voice cracking with sheer hysteria as she yanked Min-jae up by his collar just as two more bodies slammed into the base of the rack.
They made it just in time. Within seconds, a frantic pack of undead company flooded the ground below them. They snarled, snapped, and piled over one another, a sea of graying skin and rot crowding around the base of the metal units. Dozens of pale, blood-stained arms thrust upward, fingers twitching frantically in the air—thrashing and reaching for flesh, but thankfully stopping just a few agonizing inches short of their boots.
Gyeong-su clung to the top metal bracket, his heart hammering violently against his ribs as he stared down at the squirming mass. He looked over at Na-yeon, who was trembling violently beside him, her knuckles white where she gripped the steel edge.
"Nice hit," he breathed to Na-yeon, his chest heaving as he wiped a splatter of dark blood from his cheek. "I... I didn't know you had that in you."
"I hate this," Na-yeon moaned, burying her face against her arm as she tried to stifle her desperate sobs. "I hate this so much. I want to go home."
"Hey. We're okay up here. They can't reach us," he promised, trying to project a confidence he didn't feel.
Because as his eyes drifted toward the dark doorway at the back of the room, a chilling realization settled in his gut. A mindlessly swarming horde on the floor was one thing. But if Gwi-nam was still tracking them down these corridors, they were in a completely different category of nightmare.
And that threat didn't just walk. That threat could climb.
There was living company perched on that metal stand right across from them.
Poor bastards, Gyeong-su thought, catching sight of a terrified sophomore clinging to the top rung of the next rack over, trembling violently as the horde snapped below.
“Were you bit? You were bit, right?” a harsh, grating voice suddenly interrupted his thoughts.
Gwi-nam dropped down from the high window ledge, his blood-soaked shirt clinging to his skin, his eyes wide, wild, and utterly maniacal. He didn't even look at the zombies beneath him as he balanced precariously on the frame.
"No! I'm fine, I swear!" Min-jae blurted out, telling the absolute truth as he pressed his back hard against the cinderblock wall. "None of us got bit!"
“Alright,” Gwi-nam grunted softly. Without an ounce of hesitation, he reached out, grabbed the trembling sophomore by his collar, and yanked him straight off the shelf, callously tossing him down into the sea of snapping jaws below.
The poor kid's screams were instantly cut short as the horde converged on him in a bloody frenzy.
"You absolute monster!" Ha-ri screamed.
Quick as a flash, she notched an arrow, drew the string back to her ear, and loose the shaft. But the angle was far too narrow; the heavy storage shelves were packed so close together that aiming high made it exponentially harder to land a clean strike compared to firing on open, level ground. The arrow grazed Gwi-nam's shoulder, cutting a shallow red line before clattering harmlessly against the concrete wall.
Gwi-nam growled, a low, guttural sound, barely wincing as he touched the fresh blood on his arm. "You missed, archer." He turned his murderous glare toward Mi-jin, who was clutching a heavy canvas bag tightly against her ribs. His eyes narrowed on the metallic corner peeking out of the zipper. "What's in the bag?"
The realization hit Min-jae like a jolt of electricity.
Holy fuck!
"Wouldn't you like to know, psycho?" Mi-jin taunted, holding his gaze with fierce, unyielding defiance.
She kept her posture firm for more reason than one—partly to draw his focus, but mostly to buy Min-jae time to slip the device deeper into his jacket pocket.
Gwi-nam lunged forward across the narrow gap between the racks, his fingers curling like talons as he grabbed Mi-jin by the throat, driving her hard against the steel frame.
"Mi-jin!" Ha-ri cried in horror, trying desperately to reload her bow in the cramped space.
Gwi-nam snarled, squeezing her neck so tightly her toes dangled inches above the reaching arms of the zombies below. Ha-ri’s face went chalky pale as she took in the horrific sight of Mi-jin choking, her oxygen rapidly cutting off.
“Give me the phone,” Gwi-nam repeated his earlier demand, leaning in so close his bloody forehead nearly touched hers.
In response, Mi-jin gathered the last bit of moisture in her mouth and spat a glob of blood straight into his face.
Gwi-nam wiped his cheek, his expression darkening into pure, unadulterated malice. He slammed her head back against the metal bar, his grip tightening into a vice-like strangulation.
“I will tear your throat out right here and feed you to them,” he threatened, his voice dropping into a raspy whisper. Mi-jin’s eyes widened, the absolute conviction in his tone making it undeniably clear that he meant every single word.
She was seconds away from losing consciousness. Until then.
Oh fuck!
A heavy, thick-bound chemistry textbook came flying out of nowhere, slamming squarely into the side of Gwi-nam’s jaw with a crack that echoed over the snarls below.
"Let her go, you crazy bastard!" Gyeong-su cried from his perch two racks over, his arm still extended. It was sort of obvious who had thrown the heavy book.
The impact broke Gwi-nam's focus just long enough for Mi-jin to react. Bringing her heavy boot up, she kicked him hard in the groin. As Gwi-nam wheezed and stumbled back, Ha-ri barked, "Get off the shelves! Out the back door, now!"
The room dissolved into utter chaos. For a brief second, the air went completely still bar the zombies' constant growls and groans below. Ha-ri and Gwi-nam stood locked in a tense, dangerous staring match—neither blinking, both constantly watching the other for any tiny movement to strike.
Then Gwi-nam lunged straight for her. Ha-ri darted to the side, turning to sprint toward the rear exit, but Gwi-nam had anticipated her retreat. Expecting her movement, he reached up, ripped a heavy metallic fluorescent light fixture right off the dropped ceiling, and smashed it over her head.
Ha-ri hit the floor hard, glass shattering everywhere, her vision swimming in red.
Gwi-nam stood over her, grabbing a fistful of her hair and yanking her head back. "Where is it?" Gwi-nam frantically asked her as she turned her head violently to the side to keep her hair out of his grip, her dark eyes glaring up at him warily. "Where did you put the phone?!"
When she stayed silent, he leaned in, his blood-splattered face contorted with rage. "Beg for your life," he ordered coldly. "Beg me, and maybe I won't drop you down there."
There was no way in hell.
Ha-ri spat blood right onto his boot.
In her head, her thoughts drifted to her little brother.
Suddenly, Min-jae dropped down from the adjacent rack, driving his heavy wooden bow directly into the small of Gwi-nam's back. Platonically, of course, but with every ounce of force his athletic frame could rally, throwing the monster off balance.
Immediately seizing the opportunity, Ha-ri reached up, yanked the stray arrow still lodged in Gwi-nam's bloody shoulder, and stabbed it straight into his left eye socket.
Gwi-nam let out an agonizing, ear-splitting scream. As his grip slackened and he began to release her hair, Ha-ri grabbed him tightly by his shoulders, pulled herself back up with a roar of pure adrenaline, and shoved him backward off the edge, sending him crashing down into the hungry horde below.
Talk about some good luck.
"Ha-ri, move!"
It was the others calling for her from the threshold. The metal bookcase was already starting to rock violently as dozens of zombies, frustrated by the loss of their primary target, turned their full attention toward trying to reach her rather than the screaming monster getting torn apart on the floor. Ha-ri turned her back on the junior and sprinted toward the doorway.
Miraculously, there were no zombies in the immediate rear hallway as they all burst back out. Min-jae, Gyeong-su, and Na-yeon scrambled past the threshold, grabbing the heavy food bags they had temporarily abandoned during the ambush as they ran.
They ran fast, but Gwi-nam’s dying words and last frantic promise haunted Ha-ri's ears. No matter how far or fast she sprinted down the corridor, his shrieks echoed as loudly as if he were standing right beside her, screaming straight into her ear:
“I’ll track you down! I’ll track every single one of you down and I’ll kill you!”
“Is... is he dead? Did we lose them?!” Jun-seong asked, struggling to get the words out between hard, frantic puffs of air as they rounded the far corner.
They skidded to a dead halt. The stairwell ahead was completely jammed—a massive, impenetrable wall of zombie bodies blocked the entire landing. Too many to fight through.
“What do we do now?!” Min-jae asked, panic rising in his chest as he clutched his empty hands.
During the chaos in the storage room, the backpack containing the working phone had been knocked off the ledge and trampled into the sea of undead below.
“We lost the phone,” Ha-ri gritted out, her fists clenching so tight her knuckles turned white. And now they had nothing.
“Fuck!” Mi-jin swore, kicking the wall in pure rage.
The short-lived miracle was over. Now, there was no alternative left. They would absolutely have to venture outside, brave the open, corpse-filled grounds, and make a run for the archery center to reach the landline.
Min-jae groaned in utter frustration, dragging his hands down his bruised face.
Ha-ri took a deep breath, wiping the blood from her forehead, and looked at her battered, exhausted team. Just keep yourself and the rest of your team safe, she told herself firmly. Do not give up.