Chapter Text
Thump. Thump. Thump.
The weight of gold hangs around his neck, bumping against his chest with each second he runs. Legs burning. Head spinning.
He has to get out of here!
Chan
Where are you guys?!
Are yo usafe!?
Bin!?
Ji?!
Ansasner me!
Answer me!
Changbin
Hyung!
We’re ok!!!
[location pin]
Here! Where are you???
Chan
omw!!
Tears sting his eyes as he shoves the phone into his pocket, screams and distended moans filling the Olympic Village, nestled in the bustling city of Seoul for the country’s bid for international clout. There were reports of a deadly, highly contagious virus coming out of America that was spreading across Asia and Europe… even Busan, but none of them wanted to believe it.
The Olympics were so close when the reports came in, and they were a desperate attempt by the international community to put on a show to try and distract the general public from an impending pandemic, a global disaster. Due to the rush to get the show on the road before the virus made its way to Korea, the Village and the Sports Facilities to be used were slapped together deep inside the city. It was cleverly billed as an urban jungle theme for the Olympics, and he was eager to show his home country that he’d make them proud.
Bang Chan was tapped to be a breakout star, a poster boy for the national and international community. Cereal boxes, morning talk shows, endorsement commercials, the whole shebang.
He had just won his first Gold Medal when the world ended.
The ceremony was over, and he was celebrating in the Village with his teammates and fellow athletes before his races continued the next day. That feeling of camaraderie, love, and optimism is something that he weeps for now; what he wouldn’t give to hold onto that one minute longer. But he can’t. He can’t even save any of his friends, any of his fellow athletes from other countries - they’re all dead; he watched so many of them die. Helpless to do anything but run blindly into Seoul, hour after excruciating, horrifying hour.
What good is any of this strength if he can’t save anyone?
He’ll run out of strength and stamina eventually, and the zombies are relentless; could they even get tired? Shockingly, all the zombie pop culture he’d consumed in his youth didn’t actually prepare him for this.
Chan stumbles around a corner and leans against the wall, catching his breath in his scorchingly raw lungs before pushing open a nearby door and jumping in. He slams the door shut and locks it, barricading it with a heavy looking chair that’s definitely seen better days. Heaving, Chan moves away with a startled wheeze when the zombies ram against the door, pushing their weight against the worn wood.
“Is someone out there?!” a voice yells. “A human!?”
“Yeah!” Chan yells back, “we gotta get out of here! I’m Chan!”
“I’m Jisung!” A head pops out from down the hall, waving wildly. “Over here!”
Wait, Jisung? Is this –
Not hesitating any longer, Chan pushes himself off the wall and books it down the hallway to the room that Jisung yanks him into before slamming the door and re-locking it. Chan stumbles and catches himself before he crashes into someone sitting on a bench – no, two someones. “Shit, sorry, I – Changbin!?”
“Chan-hyung!” Changbin exclaims, jumping up to his feet and throwing his thick, muscular arms around Chan, squeezing him so tightly that he’s going to pop. “You made it!”
Looking around wildly, Chan sees that ‘Jisung’, as he was desperately hoping, is Han Jisung, one of his childhood friends and also healthy, if not fucking terrified. “Ji!” He exclaims, pulling the younger man into his arms, sobbing with relief. “Thank god.”
“Chan-hyung!” Jisung sobs, burrowing his face into the older man’s chest. “What the fuck is happening? Is it gonna be okay?”
“Not for long,” says a stern voice, and Chan jumps, turning around, his eyes widening. There, sitting with Hwang Hyunjin and Lee Felix is Lee Minho, an idol and a pretty popular one at that. Scratch that - all three of them are mega popular and part of the group GÆte. Chan knew Changbin and Jisung had been doing some production work with them recently, he had no idea they’d be here. Now. “This building is five minutes from being overrun. We have to get out of here.”
Chan nods. “Agreed. There are still some working vehicles around that I saw. Maybe we can hijack one and get further outside downtown or something, somewhere with better – fuck, I don’t know. Defences?”
Minho shakes his head. “We need food and to be up high,” he says, pointing upwards. “Just for long enough that Hyunjin-ah’s ankle can heal.” Wow, this guy seems really in control.
“I’m fine,” Hyunjin protests, but one experimental poke from Minho to his swollen ankle shuts him up. “Fuck!”
“See,” Minho says.
“I can carry you,” Chan offers, rubbing his shoulder. The adrenaline and relief at finding Jisung and Changbin is pumping now, and he’s beginning to think a bit clearly. “What’s the easiest way out of here?”
Changbin gets to his feet, but not before making sure that Felix’s hand was okay - it’s been lightly bandaged but the hooks in the gauze are popping off. “Back door,” he answers, running a hand through his hair.
Minho turns to Chan. “You and I are going to get whatever we can that’s perishable and small enough to carry,” he says. “Then Jisung and Changbin are going to carry those backpacks while you carry Hyunjin and I will scout the way forward. I know this area really well.”
Stupefied but grateful for a plan forward, Chan nods. “Okay, let’s go.” He inclines his head to Minho and heads out the room with him quickly and quietly. “...What year were you born?” he asks quietly. Best to know how to address the people he’s going to try and survive with.
“98,” Minho answers. A quick glance up. “You?”
“97.”
“Thank fuck.”
“Huh?”
“Nevermind. Over here, hyung.”
The presumptuous familiarity sends Chan’s mind for a spin, especially when it’s from a literal superstar, but if this is the apocalypse, then it’s probably right that they need to skip a few steps if they have any chance of survival.
Minho leads the way to what is a decently stocked kitchen, throwing two backpacks - when did he grab those? - onto the counter before pulling down everything and anything that he can shove in there. He’s hissing out orders to Chan, who scrambles to follow the instructions and together, the two of them are packing up the backpacks with essentials. Minho also packs what he can of a first-aid kit, and looks around for something before making a noise of relief and shoving something else into the backpack. Surprisingly, they’re both able to fit quite a lot in and Chan directs Minho on how to pack for an extended period of time and not weigh down the backpack or its wearer. They move quickly, making their way back to the safe room where Jisung, Felix, Hyunjin and Changbin are.
It’s time to go.
“So where are we going?” Felix asks shakily, looking between them.
“We’re going to have to find a car and find a convenience store or something,” Minho answers, as he and Chan hand off the backpacks to Changbin and Jisung. Chan then kneels down on the ground with his back to Hyunjin, Felix helping his band mate get onto the Swimmer’s back. “That’s as good of a plan as I’ve got.”
Changbin slowly nods. “A convenience store should have an apartment above it and it’d have easy access to food… y-yeah, that’s… that’s good, that’s good for now. We can do this.”
“God I hope so,” Jisung whines, looking down at his trembling hands. He looks up, startled, as Minho reaches over and puts a hand on his shoulder. “H-Huh?”
Minho gives him a small smile. “It’s just zombies, nothing to be scared of. You’ve seen the movies, right?”
Changbin gives Minho a grossed out look. “The movies where all the humans die?”
With a brief, disgruntled expression, Minho turns his attention back to Jisung. “Just make sure you hang onto one of us at all times and we’re going to make it. – actually, you can hold onto my hand.” He holds it out to Jisung, who swallows and nods, taking it like it’s a literal lifeline. “We’re the protagonists, Han Jisung. We’re going to make it out of here.”
“O-Okay,” Jisung whispers.
“Good. Let’s go, everyone.”
There’s a strength in finding camaraderie in the unlikeliest of places. Chan never thought that he would be leaving the relative safety of a building to go back out into the rapidly decaying world but here he is. He’s got Lucifæl from GÆte on his back, and he’s flanked by Ræl while Miæl is up ahead with his childhood best friend Jisung and Changbin by his side.
It’s even worse than Chan thought when they emerge from the back door, the screams are getting worse and there’s now the added horrifying layer of gunshots. Chan watches in horror as a car zooms by them, nearly running poor Felix over - Changbin grabs him and pulls him close to his chest with a ‘Yongbok!’, and Chan’s heart nearly stops at the realization that this is the guy that Changbin’s been blowing up his phone about.
Nothing like finding love in the afterlife, Chan supposes.
He glances up as Hyunjin’s arms tighten around his neck. “You okay?”
“No,” Hyunjin grumbles out. He looks like the kind of person who doesn’t like to put all of his eggs in someone else’s basket. Chan can relate. He’d be pissed if the world came crumbling down while he had an injury too.
“That’s fair. Hang on as tight as you can. I’m not going to abandon you.”
“...Okay. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. We’re in this together, yeah?”
“Whatever you say,” Hyunjin mutters, unconvinced, and wraps his arms tighter around Chan’s neck.
It’s difficult to move and think clearly when there’s smoke, fire, screams and sirens permeating what was once a comparatively calm, if not bustling, centre of the city. Hyunjin yelps and burrows against Chan when a vehicle whips by, losing control and flipping over into a crowd of zombies and people like a grotesque version of bowling. Chan flinches as the ensuing explosion draws the attention of the rabid infected, drawing them towards the site like moths to a flame.
“I’m going to be sick,” Felix says, breathless.
“We… We need to go,” Minho says, his voice thick as the seriousness of the situation dawns on him. “Those dead people, they won’t be dead forever.”
Chan nods. “Right, let’s go. There looks to be a car park over there, maybe we can find something. Everyone stay together! Don’t let go!”
“Keep your arms inside your jackets! Don’t show any skin!” Minho adds sternly. “They’re gonna try and bite whatever they can see!”
It’s slow going, moving through the chaos on foot, while keeping one’s head on a swivel for any dangers while keeping a running tally of their numbers. Minho is somehow thriving in this insanity, and Chan can only help by reiterating his commands. It seems to work and that’s invaluable right now.
Suddenly, Minho curses loudly as another vehicle - a white van? - screeches to a halt in front of them. The van had done a tight drift, turning around with a fluidity that it shouldn’t have and a young man with fluffy brown hair and a sweet face now set into a harried expression pops his head out of the tinted window. “Han Jisung, is that you? Get in!”
Minho doesn’t look convinced and puts a hand out. “Who are you?” he demands, protective. He looks surprised as Jisung suddenly pushes forward, releasing his hand and moving up towards the van, the man behind the wheel now wearing the same look of surprise and recognition. “Jisung, get back!”
“Hey! I know you! You’re – you’re Jeongin’s friend, right?” Jisung asks, resting his hands on the edge of the van’s window.
“Who’s Jeongin?” Minho asks, suspicious, eyes flicking between Jisung and mystery van man.
A brief look of hurt flashes across the man’s face but it’s quickly gone. “Yeah, I’m Seungmin. Get in here, all of you! We gotta go! We don’t have time for 20 Questions!”
“I don’t know,” Hyunjin says, starting to shake his head.
But Jisung merely turns around. “I go to uni with him! He’s cool. Let’s go!” He helps Chan get Hyunjin into the van cabin first, the rest of them scrambling in the back before Seungmin peels out of the plaza and floors it, using the van as a battering ram. Jisung wobbles to the front, gripping onto Seungmin’s chair to speak with him. “We’re trying to find a convenience store to hide out in! Do you know any faraway ones?”
Changbin yells as he’s thrown into the side of the van, as Seungmin continues to mow down zombies, staying remarkably on course. “Yeah, I think so,” Seungmin answers, hands tightly gripping the steering wheel. “This van doesn’t have a lot of gas but there’s a mom & pop convenience store like ten minutes away - might be our best bet. I think there’s an apartment above it, I dunno.”
“We’ll make do,” Minho says, who seems to be the only one who’s bracing himself against the ceiling and walls of the van which doesn’t allow him to topple over with every bump. Chan has been helping hold Hyunjin’s leg steady so that the constant bumps and sharp turns don’t aggravate his already badly sprained ankle. “How bad is it?” he asks Hyunjin.
Felix, who’s found his own grounding by squishing himself between the two seats of the cabin, shakes his head. “Won’t be able to tell until we have some breathing room b-but… sorry, Jinnie. I think it’s going to be a couple weeks.”
Hyunjin’s face falls and he reaches out to grasp Felix’s hand. “Don’t leave me behind!” he begs, “I swear, I’ll be fine! I won’t get in the way! Please, I don’t–!” He’s beginning to hyperventilate, his grip wrenching to almost white-knuckle status and Felix hisses, trying to turn their hands around so he can hold Hyunjin’s safely.
“Stop it,” Minho answers sternly, the tone of his voice causing both Felix and Hyunjin to jump. “No one is getting left behind. Chan’s going to carry you.”
“I will,” Chan promises from Hyunjin’s other side, nodding. “Don’t worry - If I can carry a giant 113 kg shot putter clear across Hongdae while we’re both blitzed out of our heads, I can carry you no problem! The best medicine for a sprained ankle is not putting any weight on it. Right - ah, Felix, was it?” Seemed like Felix was the most knowledgeable about the injury, and bringing in others to participate in a tense situation helped mitigate the nerves. Or so he remembers from his team-building training.
Felix nods with a brilliant smile, causing Hyunjin to melt and he leans into the blond’s embrace. “Till our Wings break,” he whispers softly, and Chan bites his lip as it was clearly meant to be something that only Hyunjin could hear, but now the older man feels like he’s an interloper. Hyunjin sniffs and nods, holding onto Felix like he’s a lifeline as the van rumbles along the road.
Seungmin was driving this thing like it was a souped up race car instead of a delivery van, holy hell. He went to uni with Jisung? Do they have a major for goddamn F1 drivers at SNU now?!
“How did you learn to drive like this?” Chan asks, gripping the handle of the car door as Seungmin books it around another corner, flicking the gear stick about like it’s nothing.
Seungmin just lets out a mirthless laugh. “Well.” Is all he answers.
Down another road, and the crowds seem to be thinning out. Seungmin grunts as he swings the van around in front of what appears to be a small convenience store that’s free-standing in the middle of what had once been a nice neighbourhood. He pulls the parking brake with a hard crunch.
“It doesn’t look too bad here,” Changbin says. “Let’s go, I don’t wanna stay in this tin box any longer. I’m gonna barf. No, seriously–”
The back doors fling open noisily and Chan helps Hyunjin onto his back as he hears the sound of Changbin throwing up from behind the van. He adjusts his hold and heads in, following their little pack. The convenience store is small, strangely empty, and in complete disarray. Seungmin is able to find the entrance up towards the apartment, and he and Minho head up to scope it out. It’s a tense few minutes while they wait inside of their temporary sanctuary, and Chan exhales as he hears the sounds of distant chaos.
“Okay, we’re clear,” Minho reports as he comes down the steps. “It’s not big, but it’s good enough for now. There’s a bed - Hyunjin can take it. The rest of us will be sleeping on the floor.”
Changbin whines, rubbing his mouth with the back of his hand. “I’m delicate.”
Jisung rolls his eyes. “Get a move on, Richie Rich. I don’t wanna be out here longer than I have to. I’m like three seconds from crying in a foetal position.”
Chan looks up at Hyunjin and smiles. “Almost there,” he promises. Hyunjin doesn’t look convinced but he nods, holding onto Chan a little bit tighter. “I really liked that painting you posted on Instagram a few days ago,” he offers quietly. “The colours were really pretty.”
Hyunjin blinks and a small smile comes to his lips. “It’s… it’s Felix’s birthday flower,” he replies softly, and Chan can’t help but smile back at him. “It sounds like you know who I am, but… what about you? How do you know Jisung and Changbin?”
“We grew up together,” Chan answers as he heads up the stairs, being mindful of Hyunjin as they head up the narrow staircase. “Haven’t been able to see them as much as I would like, due to the training and all.”
Curiously, Hyunjin brings his head around to peer at Chan. “Training? For what?”
Chan smiles as they enter what appears to be the main living room area of the small apartment, and the others have spread out to explore/stake out personal spaces and any vantage points to keep an eye on the rapidly deteriorating situation. “The Olympics,” he answers, carefully setting Hyunjin down on the bed that Minho’s directed him to. “I was… celebrating, in the Olympic Village when everything went wrong.”
With wide brown eyes, Hyunjin seems to catch sight of the medal around Chan’s neck, and the fact that Chan’s wearing the South Korean Olympic Team’s official tracksuit. “Oh shit, you’re an athlete?” he asks, blinking owlishly. “No wonder you could carry me no problem. Shit, dude.”
Embarrassed, Chan rubs the back of his neck. “Aw, it’s… it’s not like that.”
“This gold fucking medal says otherwise,” Jisung says, pinging the medal with his finger. “That’s amazing, man! Congrats!”
Now very embarrassed, Chan shakes his head. “That’s… not really important right now. We have to figure out our situation here and see what we can grab for food. We’ll have to secure this apartment and hope that the zombies… that they’re not able to get in here overnight.”
Minho folds his arms. “We need to take turns keeping watch.”
“Good idea,” Chan agrees. “Okay, let’s figure out dinner and then we’ll figure out who’s going to take what point on the watch.” It felt surreal, like he was in some sort of survival movie, but as he glances out the window, Chan’s heart falls through his chest: Seoul has Fallen and it’s barely been a day. But this is not a movie, this is really happening and every single choice that they make impacts whether or not they’ll live or die… or even worse, become a zombie.
What awaits them the longer this goes on?
What… if it never stops?
What do they do then?
Changbin and Felix stay with Hyunjin while Seungmin and Jisung try to get an old family computer to work to try and send messages to their families as preservation of their cell phone batteries takes precedence. Minho jerks his thumb for Chan to come with him back downstairs to the convenience store’s main floor while everyone’s got some time to breathe. “How long do you think we’ve got here?” Minho asks him as they descend, cat-like eyes watching Chan intently.
“A day or two, tops,” Chan answers, his voice just as low as they sneak around the convenience store’s main level, just in case they get any unwanted visitors. The floor is empty, a small mercy; Chan has a feeling that there won’t be too many of those now. His heart is heavy as he and Minho get a good feel for what the convenience store has compared to what they can prepare without electricity or heat should it come to that. They barricade the door as best they can before returning to their search.“It’s not so bad here but…”
Minho nods. “It’s going to get worse.”
“...Yeah; we’re deep in the centre of it all and it’d be better if we got as far away from here as possible,” Chan agrees. “Do you wanna take your first watch?” it seemed like Minho was keyed into this type of stuff, surprising given that he was an idol. Then again, his idol persona and real persona were likely completely different.
The younger man nods as he grabs a basket, filling it up with rice balls and sealed water bottles before moving on and picking up things that would take a bit longer to go bad - instant ramen, pouches for soft drinks, coffee, and the like that would be used in ice cups. He hands off the basket to Chan while he fills up another one with food and various items that Chan realizes could be used as improvised weapons.
Who the hell is Lee Minho?
Where did he get this kind of resilience from?
Soon they’ve got a decent supply for the seven of them. Chan grabs the cheap portable chargers and cords, and some other things in a rush - maybe they can contact their families. Only then does the former idol answer with a nod in confirmation that they’re done. “Okay, this is a good amount for right now,” Minho says, adjusting his basket. “We have stuff for a first-aid kit, food that doesn’t need to be heated - that microwave will probably alert those fucking things outside. I’ll start the first watch.”
“Okay,” Chan confirms, looking at his waterproof watch. “We’ll go in four hour shifts and I’ll either anchor it or pull double, depending on what the others are feeling like. We’ll sort out the rest of this in the morning… right now we need to keep everyone’s mind at ease with some kind of distraction so they can get some semblance of sleep.” He looks around and his eyes brighten, seeing a classic board games display that has largely been forgotten near the back area of the store. “Aces! Okay, let’s see what we’ve got here…”
Minho makes an aggravated sound but he follows behind Chan dutifully. “Are you serious? You wanna be playing that fuck ass ice pick penguin game right now?”
Chan grins as he pulls out a couple of board games and tucks them under his arm as quietly he can. “Why? You bad at it?”
Minho doesn’t answer, but his ears pinken.
“We need to keep everybody’s spirits up enough that they can get to sleep,” Chan goes on, hiding a small smile. “If they’re all keyed up and freaked out, we’re going to be sitting ducks not only for our watches, but getting out of here. I think what they all need the most is some semblance of normalcy… is there a stove or a kitchen upstairs? You’re right, we shouldn’t use the microwave but until the power goes out completely we should use the stove for some hot meals…”
The younger man looks at him for a long moment before he nods, opening the door that leads up towards the apartment. “Okay,” Minho agrees. “Yah!” he yells out to the others, throwing a thumb back over his shoulder. “Chan’s going to be our leader going forward.”
“W-What?!” Chan hisses, startled; where the hell did that come from!?
Jisung looks relieved. “Channie-hyung is a great choice to take charge!”
“Uh, hang on a second–”
“Oh that’s perfect!”
“I vouch for Chan-hyung! He’s kept me and Ji alive all these years!”
“I have not–!”
Minho nods with a tight lipped smile and a pleased hum, clapping Chan on the back. “Congratulations, Leader. Yes.”
And that’s that on that. Great.
Chan sighs. “Thanks, I guess.”
The others pitch in and together, they set everything out, organizing what they’ve grabbed and putting it away as best they can. Dinner for the night ends up being a bunch of bowls of instant ramen, and the rice balls are put away in the mini fridge for later while they still have power. The energy is sombre but a bit hopeful as they all inhale their food, desperate for the sustenance and a moment of peace in a time that is rapidly going downhill.
“We should… probably introduce ourselves properly,” Felix says, setting his cardboard bowl down on the floor, his chopsticks neatly placed on top. “If we’re going to be tryin’ to survive together.”
Chan nods. “Shall we go around and introduce ourselves with a fun fact?” He sees Minho’s eye roll and a grin comes to his lips. “Ah, I’m the Leader so we have to do what I say, yeah? Hey, Minho-yah, wanna go first? Looks like you do! Come on, have at it, mate.”
The death stare he gets is pretty crazy. He’s got goosebumps, even!
Collapsing into giggles and into Changbin, Chan waves a hand. “I’m just kidding about the fun fact! I’ll go first. The name’s Bang Chan and I’m a ‘97 liner.”
The tension seems to break with that, and everyone goes around re-introducing themselves now that things have quieted down: Minho (‘98), Changbin (‘99), Hyunjin, Jisung, Felix and Seungmin (all ‘00-liners).
“Great, I’m the maknae,” Seungmin grumbles.
“We should get a proper maknae,” Minho agrees, waving his hand vaguely at the four of them. “Know anyone born in ‘01?”
Seungmin’s cheeks flush, and he turns his head with a scowl.
“Let’s be careful talking about others,” Chan warns lightly. “At least until we can contact our friends and family.”
Still, everyone’s very close in age, and despite Chan saying that no one else has to share a fun fact, the others do share little tidbits: Seungmin was a robotics student at SNU who dabbles in street racing on the side (whoa, seriously?). Chan explains his (now defunct) career as an elite level athlete. Jisung and Changbin share that they founded an indie music label named FUTURA, and Minho, Hyunijn and Felix needed no introduction but give a little tidbit about themselves anyway: Felix’s family ran a medical clinic back in Sydney and in Seoul, and Hyunjin has been his friend since his family moved to South Korea. Minho doesn’t volunteer anything, and Chan doesn’t push it.
Chan then introduces the board games he’s brought from downstairs, and after a while, the initial awkwardness gives way to a decently fun time. Minho abstains, going towards the windows to keep an eye on the city below, but Chan catches him looking over from time to time until the sun finally goes down. All the hard work that went into alleviating the stress of their situation evaporates when night falls, and now there’s nothing to distract them from the sounds of zombies, the occasional sound of gunshots and all manner of strange noises.
Chan grunts as Jisung fastens himself to him with the grip tight enough to be a vice, the others slowly lying down on the haphazard pile of blankets and thin pillows pulled from the apartment’s linen closet. Changbin is on his other side while Felix is attached to him, but he’s got Hyunjin tucked in under his arm. Seungmin had, at the beginning of the night, started off at the fringe of the cuddle pile, but as Chan is woken up for taking over from Minho, has somehow found himself in Jisung’s arms. Changbin whines as Chan moves away, but soon he’s got an armful of Felix and he’s settled back down.
Minho has given him a contraption that he can only assume is a weapon made from amalgamated things he’s pilfered from the convenience store downstairs. Carefully, Chan sets it aside as Minho settles down to try and sleep, and goes through all of their supplies. He sorts it into food items, possible weapons, lifestyle stuff and recreational games and toys for morale. Chan repacks both his and Minho’s backpacks, making sure that both of them have first-aid stuff at the top, and the less important stuff at the bottom.
When that only kills an hour, Chan sighs and rubs his neck. It’s then that he spots a pack of notebooks, a bit smaller than the standard size - it’s labelled as ‘pocket sized’ but it wasn’t about to fit in anybody’s pockets. Quietly, Chan picks up the package and removes a notebook, moving back to the desk that’s been moved up against the window, grabbing a package of pens and starting to write. He doesn’t know what possesses him, but something pulls at him to put his thoughts down on paper, like he would when he was in the depths of training and his mental health spiralled; it was a method of coping with the pressure, the weight of the nation and his own expectations.
[21.07.10 - Day 1 of the Apocalypse]
Where the fuck do I begin? I won my first gold medal today. 400m butterfly! That was always my weakness but I got first! All those years of training, of sacrifice, of having to look forward only… it felt like it was worth it. But now, I’m holed up in a convenience store apartment with mega popular idols, Ji and Bin and a certified genius street racer. I never thought that Zombies would be a thing I’d have to worry about… the movies - I know, they’re movies - but it was never like this. They never show the confusion for long, how it sounds, how everything is the same but never again what you thought it was.
It doesn’t prepare you for raiding a convenience store with Miæl or being driven in a delivery van by a kid who raced criminals for pink slips. I guess it kinda sounds like a movie when I put it like that, haha.
It’s scary. I just tried to send everyone back home a message on my phone but I got a voice note back - which would be fine if … if it was them. All I could hear were whimpers and the sound of zombies. I want to believe that everyone is okay but … – no, I can’t think like that. They’re okay and I’m going to be okay. I have to be strong - I’m the one that was appointed leader of this group of seven and I gotta … I gotta keep my head on straight. We can’t stay here for very long - ground zero was downtown and more and more things are getting destroyed.
I don’t know how long the power will be on for.
I don’t know how long this will go on for.
I don’t… know how long we can survive like this.
What do I do?
Maybe… Maybe I could approach it like a movie? That’s what Minho said. They always had jobs and titles and cool code names. Maybe that could help the others - if we could … pretend a little bit and get everyone to focus. Yeah. We can … pretend long enough to get our feet under us, to find somewhere safe to hide for longer than a day.
Oh! I finally met “Yongbok”, the one that Changbin is in love with. Turns out this Yongbok is Lee Felix, or Ræl of GÆte. He’s a sweet guy, with a bit of fire to him - as soon as I saw him, I got it; I got why Changbin is drawn to him. I’m glad they were together when it all went bad. I’ve never seen Changbin look so happy as when he looks at Felix.
For a long time Changbin thought he was “broken” that something was wrong because he’s turned off by sex. I remember staying up with him until 3 a.m. with Ji and we were pouring over internet articles with incognito mode on. When he found a name for what he felt… asexuality… I dunno if I can explain the lightbulb moment, do it justice, y’know?
I’m glad they’re together.
My watch is almost up, the sun’s about to rise. I don’t know what we’re going to do, but I think… I’m gonna keep writing in this.
Who knows. Maybe it’ll come in handy one day. ~BC
☣️☣️☣️
They’re forced to abandon the convenience store after two and a half days. Seungmin and Jisung are able to find another vehicle with a quarter tank of gas left in it. It’s a truck, so Hyunjin is inside the truck with Seungmin while the rest of them are piled into the truck bed, bouncing along like popcorn kernels and watching as they make their way through the distressingly high number of zombies that are shuffling about. It’s surreal, watching from a rapidly increasing distance on the truck bed as people run, as zombies relentlessly pursue them, and seeing smoke rise from buildings, trash cans and other abandoned vehicles.
The sun is bright and the world is bleak, causing a weight to settle in Chan’s chest as he looks at their new normal. Seungmin pushes the truck as far as he can with the positively shitty gas mileage, groaning when the thing gives up the ghost a lot sooner than they’d hoped. They are much further away than they had been before, but still deep in the metropolitan area - he can see Lotte World Mall in the distance. That means there are still some possible resources they can get, but where the hell are they going to stay?
Hyunjin gives a surprising suggestion, “what about the church?” he says, pointing a few feet ahead where a mid-sized Catholic Church is standing, relatively unscathed save for cosmetic damages on the outside.
“Leaning a little too hard into the concept, aren’t ya?” Jisung asks, a small grin on his lips. Hyunjin sticks out his tongue while Felix lets out a breathless laugh. Chan catches Minho tense considerably at the joke, but remains silent otherwise. That’s right, GÆte’s concept was based heavily on the Archangels of Heaven.
Hyunjin huffs. “Maybe you’ll burst into flames when we step inside.”
“Me?!” Jisung exclaims, affronted. “Listen here, pretty boy–”
“Let’s go,” Minho snaps, practically kicking down the door of the truck bed, jumping down with his backpack already on, “we have to scope it out and board it up. If it’s burnt, we’re going to have to try another apartment, or fuck forbid, the mall.”
Changbin groans. “Fuck, I don’t know if I could handle being surrounded by zombies while a cut-out of Barbie and Skipper stare down at me with their soulless eyes.”
Chan smirks a little bit and shakes his head as Felix helps Hyunjin onto his back, making sure he’s got the younger man nice and secure. “Comfortable, Hyunjin?” Chan asks, craning his neck so he can look at the former idol.
“You’re very comfortable,” Hyunjin agrees with a little laugh, looking around curiously as they’re the last ones to get inside the church before Changbin and Minho barricade the doors with whatever is nearby. “Wow… it’s kinda pretty in here.”
“Jinnie nearly got lured into a cult once,” Felix offers insightfully.
“Yongbok!” Hyunjin barks.
Minho has already left his backpack and has taken his makeshift weapon to go and scout out the rest of the Church, leaving Chan to anchor the group. He helps Hyunjin off his back and sit down at a pew, leaving him in Felix’s hands as he helps Seungmin go through their supplies and make sure they haven’t lost anything. Changbin goes to back-up Minho as he’s off alone and Chan smiles - Changbin’s got a soft heart and no doubt didn’t want the older man to be alone while exploring a new space despite Changbin’s own anxiousness.
“So, what’s the damage?” Chan asks when Minho returns, offering a thin smile. “Do we have to move or is this good enough for a few more days?”
The younger man nods and Chan looks relieved. “This is a much better spot than the convenience store,” Minho confirms. “There’s only one other exit and it’s at the back, which can be barricaded easily and blocked with bookshelves. I saw a door down to the basement, but I haven’t gone - there’s a kitchen and a pantry but a lot of it was fucked. I don’t know how much of it is salvageable.”
Chan listens carefully and nods. “We’ll have to scout out the basement and see if they have anything useful down there. We should probably find a good place to board up and sleep - Churches have smaller rooms, don’t they? This one seems pretty big.”
“Yeah, there are classrooms and offices and stuff in addition to the storage room. They’ve got a dining room and a kitchen, which’ll be helpful but like Minho said, we didn’t get too much of a chance to go through everything and see what’s usable and what’s not,” Changbin says, rubbing his arms as he looks around the eerily silent building.
“Gotcha,” Chan says as he pushes himself to his feet. “Ji, are you okay to stay with Felix and Hyunjin? I’m going to take Seungmin and we’re going to dig through this place with Changbin and Minho.”
Jisung salutes. “You got it, boss! Korean Jesus has our back; we’ll be fine.”
“I could say something but I don’t want to get smited,” Seungmin mutters as he follows Chan, grabbing one of the convenience store flashlights. A cheap, flimsy thing that’s about the size of a lipstick, he gives the back of it a couple of hard bashes to make it flicker on and they head towards the basement. “...are you going to be okay?”
Chan swallows as he opens the door, searching for the lightswitch and he exhales heavily when the thick switch hits and the area is illuminated. “Oh thank God,” he whispers. “Er, can I say that now that we’re in a Church?”
Seungmin shrugs. “I didn’t grow up Catholic; you’d be better off asking–” he begins to answer, then cuts off. Chan gives him a curious look. “You’d be better off asking me about Robot Jesus,” he finishes, and there’s a little smirk tugging at his lips. Chan can’t help but laugh - Seungmin’s actually pretty funny - and it helps alleviate the tension of being in a new, weird space.
The lights flicker rapidly and crackle - seems like the Church was not very efficient with their repairs - and Chan swallows as he grips his flashlight. It’s a pretty standard basement filled with things that wouldn’t fit in the storage for equipment or the pantry. Chan and Seungmin make a beeline for the food, finding some stray cans and boxes that might work if they can get a heat source going. It’s not much, barely enough for a couple of days given that they’re a group of seven young men in their physical prime.
“This isn’t enough,” Seungmin says, sucking his teeth as he looks around. “If we can’t find a hot plate or a working stove in the kitchen, I can try make one. Hopefully they’ve got enough batteries and stuff still left that it should be a piece of cake.”
Chan blinks. “You can do that?”
Seungmin nods. “I can do a lot of stuff.”
“And the street racing thing?”
“The robotics program is brutal and unforgiving; racing was a way to escape and for me to feel in control of something at least.”
Chan nods and he gives Seungmin a little elbow. “Well, those skills of yours are a big reason why we’re still alive right now, so I’d say you’re my hero, Seungmin!”
A blush rises to Seungmin’s cheeks and he grumbles, pulling away to inspect the wall. “I quit after my best friend got busted,” he says suddenly, and Chan blinks at his back. “Just like always, he didn’t listen to me. Or anyone.”
Frowning, Chan steps forward a little bit, but thinks better of it, staying a respectful distance back. “Your best friend?”
“You’re Jeongin’s friend, right?” Jisung had said, peering into the window of the van.
“Yeah,” Seungmin confirms, fiddling with the label on an old can of pickled daikon, “play bitch games get bitch prizes.” Frustration fills Seungmin’s frame and he roughly sets the can down. This is clearly something he can’t let go of, and Chan wonders if he’s ever had anyone to vent about it to. “I told him not to race that guy - he had criminal ties and was way less about playing honourably - but no, he just had to be a big fucking hero and now he’s rotting in jail in Busan.”
“Busan?” Chan asks, grimacing. That was the epicentre of the outbreak ...
“Yeah,” Seungmin says darkly. “Which means he’s dead now. And for what?”
Chan’s frown deepens and he walks over, placing a hand on Seungmin’s shoulder, offering wordless comfort. He expects his hand to be slapped away, much like Seungmin had been to Jisung and Changbin’s offers of affection, but instead Chan finds himself with an armful of Seungmin. “I’m sorry,” Chan whispers, “it sounds like he really hurt you.”
Seungmin shakes his head and grips Chan’s jacket, bunching up the material in his fists. “I told him not to do it! It was dangerous and that guy was way more experienced! Now he’s dead and I’m … I’m…”
“... Lost?”
“... Yeah.”
Carefully, Chan rubs Seungmin’s back and lets him hold on as tightly as he wants to. “That’s valid. You’re entitled to your feelings. You’re allowed to be angry at him, even if he’s dead.” (He might not be,) Chan thinks, but he knows it won’t be helpful right now. (If this Jeongin is that reckless, if he’s a fighter… that might be exactly what he needs to survive this.)
Seungmin frowns at him. “I’m not interested in the cool teacher after-school-special talk.”
“It’s a good thing I’m not very good at those, then,” Chan offers, smiling wider when Seungmin gives him a small smile back. “I’m gonna need help keeping track of all this stuff. Do you wanna help with that? Might also need your help with that hot plate. We’re near the mall but I don’t wanna risk a run over there just yet.”
Roughly, Seungmin wipes his eyes. “Like an inventory?”
Chan nods. “Something to keep it organized and keep us busy so we’re not freaking out that the world is ending.”
“You’re right, your pep talks suck.”
“Oi. I’m trying here.”
There’s a cute little smile now on Seungmin’s lips and he pokes Chan in the chest. “Then I’m going to need an extra pair of hands if we’re going to go through this place and see what we have.”
Chan smiles. “A good project for everyone.”
“Let’s not get carried away.”
Organizing the basement and the pantry for food stuffs takes priority, and over the next handful of days, Chan and the others slowly begin to find some semblance of a routine. It doesn’t get any easier, trying to sleep when there’s such chaos going on outside, but it gets a bit better when Jisung and Seungmin find an old CD player and some CDs - nothing remarkably current and all of it rewritten to be about God and Religion, but they have a good laugh at an idol group’s super sexy song being rewritten to talk about Jesus. The water still works, and’s a godsend (pun intended) as they were really beginning to reek. There are some donation boxes filled with clothes and shoes, including some sealed packs of underwear. A small mercy.
They come up with codenames when they’re out of the safehouse. It’s Minho’s idea - if they keep their identities secret, then they can keep themselves safe. The idea of codenames is pretty popular, and they spend a full evening coming up with them. There are a lot of bad ones, like really bad ones.
“No, my callsign is not going to be Sweetcheeks,” Jisung huffs, folding his arms. “I already have one - it’s J.One!”
“Oh, like that’s better,” Hyunjin snickers.
Seungmin rests his chin on his palm. “With how much Minho has been smacking it, he at least thinks you have a sweet ass.”
Minho eyes him. “Oi, where are the honourifics.”
“Sorry, hyung.”
Felix hums as he picks up the scattered pieces of paper from their previous brainstorming sessions. “I kinda like Raphael,” he says. “He was my favourite Ninja Turtle and it’s kinda like my old stage name.”
Hyunjin smiles fondly at him. “It’s perfect, Lixie.”
“What about you?” Chan asks, looking over at Minho.
Minho raises an eyebrow. “What about me?”
“Your callsign, you haven’t chosen one yet,” Chan points out.
A look of disgust crosses Minho’s face, coupled with a little bit of childish petulancy. “You pick it,” he grumbles. “I don’t like coming up with names.”
Chan smiles a little and nods; Minho’s a lot like a stray cat that wants affection but doesn’t trust it. “Okay, let’s think about this,” he says, pulling over the tattered notebook that’s had its pages ripped out so everyone could make a list of nicknames they’d want for themselves and ideas for the others. “You’re really sharp and you’ve got an eye for scoping out the new areas and my trusty right-hand man.”
“This sounds like an evaluation,” Felix giggles to Hyunjin, who shushes him loudly but soon the two blonds are collapsing in on one another at the idea. Minho, however, doesn’t look too pleased.
Undeterred, Chan continues, “and I’ve seen you sneak out late at night to the pet store to grab old cans of food for the stray cats that are lurking around the church - oh, it’s weird they’re not being bothered by the zombies, isn’t it? Bin, can you write that down somewhere? - so…” Chan hums as he taps the eraser end of the pencil to his chin. “Let’s not overthink this… Cateye!”
Jisung blinks. “That actually sounds kinda cool.”
“I agree with Jisung,” Minho says in a small, hard tone, keeping his head pitched down and not looking at anyone.
Chan’s chest warms.
“Shit, maybe you should pick the rest of them,” Changbin says, impressed.
And that’s how Chan finds himself staring at six other scraggled pieces of paper. He smooths them out and looks through them, tilting his head. “J.One and SpearB are good, we can keep that… Raphael is slotted in and I think Prince suits you really well, Hyunjin! Plus it’s vague enough that it’s not easily identifiable. Minho is Cateye and that leaves Seungmin… what about Starks?”
“Stark?” Seungmin echoes.
“Yeah, like Tony Stark, but cooler,” Chan offers. Seungmin doesn’t respond and Chan deflates a little. “I can think of something else, actually, maybe JARVIS–”
“I like it,” Seungmin says with a small smile. “Better than…” He clears his throat. “It’s cool. Thank you, Chan-hyung.”
Chan’s heart swells a little bit with fondness and he nods. “You’re welcome, Seungmin.”
Hyunjin leans over, a smirk on his lips. “So what about you, O’Great Leader?”
“M-Me?” Wow, Hyunjin’s really pretty this close. Chan swallows and gives a sheepish smile. “I, uh, well, I kind of had a nickname from the guys on the swim team… they called me Wolf.”
The blond blinks at him and shares a look with Felix. “Yeah, no discussion needed; you’re definitely a wolf.”
“Oh, Alpha,” Jisung purrs. “Ow, what?!”
“Knock it off,” Changbin warns, rolling his eyes. He looks at Chan and grins. “Not going with Poseidon?”
Chan turns red. “No, that’s… I don’t think it fits right now.” He looks down at the newly composed list and smiles, tearing it and putting it into his journal. “There. Now we’ve all got cool call signs and we can be cool zombie apocalypse survivors.”
“Now we just need a team name,” Felix says eagerly.
Chan groans. “We’ll save that for another time. Those are even harder than individual nicknames.”
“Agreed,” Minho grouses. “We use these when we’re outside. Inside, normal names are fine.”
“Aye, Aye, Cateye!”
“Ugh.”
They have been in the Church for nearly a week when Minho comes to him and advises that they’re out of food. Even with rationing, they were reaching dangerously low levels of canned and dry food. (I can’t put this off any longer,) Chan thinks as he pushes himself to his feet. “Okay,” he says, getting everyone’s attention. “I’m going to make a run to Lotte World Mall and see what it’s like. Jisung, you’re coming with me. The rest of you, hang tight; there’s no need to send everyone out when we don’t know what it’s like out there.”
Jisung whines as he pushes himself to his feet. “Why me?”
“Because you’ve skirted the other scouting runs,” Chan explains. “Time to be a team player.”
“I’m the comic relief, I’m not supposed to be the main character,” Jisung complains, but he gets his coat and grabs a backpack, making sure it’s empty before throwing it over his back. “I hope we find something better than zombies.”
Chan laughs. “Like what?”
“I dunno, hot guys and or gals? I’m not picky. Two hot guys would be perfect.”
☣️☣️☣️
Mingi whines low in his throat and presses his face into Hongjoong’s neck, the pair of them trapped in what used to be Lotte World Mall but now zombies are crawling all over the place. Hongjoong presses a hand over his boyfriend’s mouth, a sympathetic look crossing his handsome features - he doesn’t think he’d be faring any better if he’d been the one chosen by their so-called military comrades to be zombie bait. Hongjoong doesn’t remember much about their escape, just clocking his superior officer in the face with the butt-end of a rifle before grabbing Mingi and taking off while zombies swarmed to the sound of screams.
The world ended a week ago and it’s already feeling like it’s been an eternity. How are they going to see tomorrow at this rate?
The mall wasn’t the best choice, but they were desperate and there were at least some options to cover and defend themselves. Hongjoong was glad that Mingi got addicted to Dead Rising when they were in University or else he would never have thought to use an aerosol can and a match to make a flamethrower. Right now, he and Mingi are hiding behind the counter inside of a tween jewellery store after using a lifesize statue of Barbie and Skipper to barricade the doors alongside a piercing chair. They have maybe a few more minutes before the zombies break through, which means they have to think fast.
“Come on, Min,” Hongjoong whispers, pressing a silent kiss to Mingi’s forehead, feeling how much his soft-hearted boyfriend his trembling. The only thing stopping Hongjoong from being as panicked is keeping both of them calm, if he’s honest, and it’s about the only thing keeping them alive. Neither one of them thought that this was going to be their life, listening to the disgusting sounds of zombies groaning, shuffling, the screams of people falling victim to the relentless pursuit of the undead, squelching, bones breaking, tears and grinding…
“I hate this, Joong,” Mingi says, muffled, his voice breaking. “What the hell is going on?”
“I don’t know,” Hongjoong replies, touching his boyfriend’s face. “Come on, stay with me; we’re not going to die here.”
Mingi shakes his head. “We’re gonna get bit,” he protests, jumping when there’s a heavy crack from a zombie throwing themselves into the barricaded doors. “This is insane, Joong!”
“It is, but we gotta stay alive,” Hongjoong insists. “To The End, remember?” It's a line they always repeated to each other, a line from pop group GÆte’s ballad of the same name that became ‘their song’ and the titular phrase became something of a mantra to get them through hard times. Now, it seemed, they were saying it more than ever. Mingi’s eyes widen and they grow serious as he nods; there he is, the love of Hongjoong’s life.
“To The End,” he repeats, swallowing. “We gotta get out of here.” Mingi grips Hongjoong’s hand as they slowly get to their feet, and that’s when the taller of the two spots it: there’s a secondary entrance to the store that they hadn’t seen, with a rolling screen barricade that was raised a quarter of the way off the ground. Both Hongjoong and Mingi flatten themselves to the ground and peer out from underneath the curtain door. Hongjoong touches his right ear, where a GUCCI beetle is hanging; one half of a gift he’d given to his brother, Taehyung when the older man had gotten his dream job at GUCCI, as a fashion designer.
(Hyung, I hope you’re okay… please be okay!)
Zombies are shuffling about, but they seem fixated on a point further down the galleria floor. With a nod to one another, Hongjoong steels his composure with a touch to a bee earring on his right ear and army-crawls underneath the curtain door with Mingi right beside him. As soon as they get up to their feet, Mingi goes to break out into a run before Hongjoong grabs him and shakes his head wildly; they’re wearing military boots and they’re going to make a lot of fucking noise if they break out into a sprint. Biting his lip, Mingi nods and the two of them hide behind the nearest pillar to take stock of their new situation.
They’re on the second floor, and looking out across the promenade that has a massive hole in it to look down to the lower floor with an insane staircase that’s somehow still standing and five floors above them. Hongjoong is convinced they’re fucked. He whirls around as he hears a scream and the crack of a fist connecting with rotting flesh - Mingi’s just knocked out a zombie - and Hongjoong stares as the zombie twitches at their feet. “Come on!” he hisses, forgoing his earlier statement of being quiet and slow as they’re now going to be chased. Before Mingi runs off too far ahead, Hongjoong grabs him and gets him to push over a vending machine, causing a ruckus big enough for them to slip away and down to the first floor.
“Wait, look!” Mingi says, pointing. Up ahead are two young men dressed in black, one of them holding his stomach while the other, smaller one, is struggling to keep them both upright. Zombies are picking up the scent of blood, and the two guys look like they have minutes left before they’re done for. Mingi grabs a discarded mannequin and runs forward, leaving Hongjoong to pick up a severed arm from a poor soul who was one of the first to fall to the horde.
The younger of the two men yelps as Hongjoong and Mingi appear from seemingly nowhere, with Hongjoong throwing the arm to get the zombies to give them a bit of a berth. “Holy shit I’m a prophet,” he says in wonder, lips parted and round face opened up in surprise.
“W-Who are you?” the injured man asks, eyes wide and face flushed. His wavy blond hair is stained with blood and there’s a flush on his skin from the exertion and blood loss. It doesn’t look like a bite, more like he got swiped at by zombie claws, Hongjoong reasons. He swallows, trying not to look at the man’s defined muscles, visible through the tears in his shirt; he’s clearly some sort of athlete, or maybe some kind of idol? Both he and the other guy are pretty handsome.
(Focus, Kim! You’re a taken man and there are fucking zombies everywhere, ) Hongjoong chastises himself. “I’m Kim Hongjoong and that’s Song Mingi,” Hongjoong answers, pointing between the two of them. “We were with our squad but they tried to sacrifice us to make a break for it so we ditched. What about you?”
The blond man grimaces as Hongjoong helps him up to a safe place to hide with Mingi’s help - a nearby cafe that the second guy manages to barricade temporarily with a bench. “I’m Bang Chan, and that’s Han Jisung. We were just on a run – shit, Ji! What about the–?”
Jisung grins and holds up two chunky backpacks. “We’re good.”
Letting out a relieved sigh, Chan nods. “Have you ever sewn someone up before, Hongjoong? I need stitches and Jisung’s queasy around blood.”
“Well, theoretically…” Hongjoong admits, shrugging slightly. “Stitching is stitching, you know? Clothes, gash on a handsome young survivor, what’s the difference?”
“Yo, I’m right here,” Mingi complains, huffing.
“I love you,” Hongjoong snickers. “Now stay still, Mr. Chan. I’m going to give you a wicked cross-stitch that says No. 1 SERAPH – I’m kidding!” He flushes a dark pink at the laugh that comes from Chan, and focuses entirely on closing the ugly gash and using the half-opened first-aid kit that Jisung had brought along.
The adrenaline accounts for a lot, and Hongjoong’s hands are surprisingly steady with sharp focus as he uses a modified stitch to pull together the wide wound. Chan clenches his jaw and throws his head back, abdomen flexing as he tries his best to stay still, but without anaesthesia or even a tylenol, he’s in for a rough time. Jisung is holding onto Chan’s hand and Mingi is resting his large hands on Hongjoong’s shoulders, keeping the older of the two men grounded.
It’s strange - even though there are zombies roaming about and the smell of decaying flesh, blood and shit is permeating the air, Hongjoong is as focused as he’s ever been. He wipes Chan’s blood off on his pants to keep his hands clean as he works over the stitch, treating it a lot like he’s mending a finicky sweater rather than a guy with an eight pack of abs. Then, it’s time to do it all over again when he starts on the second gash. This one is a lot easier now that he has a rhythm going, though he does apologize to Chan when his grip slips and he ends up jabbing the blonde man in the hip with the needle.
Relief washes over Hongjoong as he reaches the end of the twin wounds, and all things considered, it looks fairly neat. Not his best work, but hopefully it’ll allow Chan’s injury to heal properly and all he’ll be left with is a bitchin’ set of scars. He takes a clean handcloth from the First-Aid kit and wipes down Chan’s abdomen, disinfecting the site with a spray before finding a bandage large enough to fit over the whole area. He can’t seem to find an appropriate adhesive bandage, so he’s got to wrap gauze around Chan’s midsection and tie it off.
“There! Not bad for our first time,” Hongjoong says with a breathless laugh. “How was it for you?” Mingi slaps his shoulder.
Chan huffs out a laugh. “Thanks for being gentle,” he says, chiselled abdomen flexing as he reaches for a discarded hoodie to pull on. “I owe you big time, Hongjoong.”
“Now come on, let’s go! I don’ t wanna hang around here. – You guys come too,” Jisung interrupts, eying the flimsy barricade.
“Us too?” Mingi asks, pointing to himself.
Chan smiles. “Yeah, you too. You saved my life. We’re holed up in a Church not too far from here.”
Hongjoong blinks. “Has God helped at all?”
“Not really,” Jisung mutters, pulling on his backpack after stuffing the supplies they pilfered into it. He hands one to Hongjoong to carry, while putting on the second one and adjusting the straps. “But we’re not here to have a theological debate about Jesus. Let’s get the fuck out of here.”
Chan nods and slowly rises to his feet, wincing but somehow managing to stay steady. “Agreed,” he says. “Follow me.”
“Hold him steady,” Hongjoong says to Mingi, who nods and half-carries Chan - then fully carries him piggy-back style - out of the mall and to an old Church. They just barely escape a frenzied horde as they near the holy building, with Jisung and Hongjoong having to use a pair of shovels to slice their way through the relentless assault of the undead. By the time they’re able to reach sanctuary, he and the younger man are covered in undead entrails and blood, entering the church right after Mingi and Chan.
“God fucking damn it!” Jisung complains, wiping his face with his sleeve and moaning when he smears his face with more zombie blood. He flinches and looks over at the giant figure of Jesus Christ in the forefront of the Church and rubs his neck. “Jesus, I’m sorry for sayin’ your dad’s name in vain but shit was FUCKED,” he apologizes to the giant statue of Jesus at the forefront of the Church.
Mingi giggles despite himself. “Smells like pew in here.”
“Min, please,” Hongjoong sighs.
Mingi looks sheepish but before he can say anything there is a heavy sigh from the side. Another man, this one with faded blond hair and growing out roots has a hand on his hip. “Stop the theatrics. Who are the new guys?” he asks, gesturing at Hongjoong and Mingi. “And what the hell happened to you?!” he demands to Chan.
Chan gives the guy a weak smile. “Tried to help a family,” Chan explains, wincing as Mingi brings him over to a pew. “Didn’t work out, got a big swipe to the side for my troubles. Mingi and Hongjoong here saved our asses, Minho; Hongjoong’s the one that stitched me up.”
Minho raises an eyebrow. “You a surgeon?”
Now that he gets a good look at the man, Hongjoong freezes for a second, more important reason: Minho is Lee Minho aka Miæl, from the pop group GÆte and… well, Hongjoong’s bias.
As he looks past Minho, Hongjoong can see Lucifæl and Ræl , who are sitting with two other young men, all of them relatively healthy looking but a bit beat up.
(Be cool. Be cool, Kim Hongjoong! This is Miæl! A guy that you’ve been following since predebut up until literally the beginning of your service! You definitely don’t want him to see what a giant loser you are!) Hongjoong clears his throat. “Fashion Design graduate,” he answers sheepishly. “Mingi was gonna apply to Law School when we were done with our service.”
Jisung blinks. “You guys were in the military? Oh! That’s right, you said you ditched your squad or something?”
Mingi frowns and rubs his arm. “They were gonna use me as bait so they could escape their safehouse; they weren’t interested in trying to help civilians anymore; said it was pointless and it was every man for themselves,” he answers softly. “Joong cracked our commanding officer in the face with a rifle and we escaped, eventually making our way into the mall. We were hiding out in some tween clothing store when we made a break for it and found you two.”
“We could use their help,” Chan says to Minho, who looks unimpressed. “We’re just a couple of ex-idols, music producers, a swimmer and a robotics student. We could use a pair of military servicemen to round out our little group here and add some strength. If they were a part of the groups that were supposed to be protecting Seoul, we’ll need their expertise on what the situation actually looks like now. Plus, there’s literally strength in numbers.”
Minho makes a face, but it’s clear that Chan’s argument is a strong one. “We use nicknames here when we’re outside, so I don’t know why these two gave you their real names out there,” he explains seriously. “It helps keep our identities safe… I’m Cateye, Chan-hyung is Wolf, and Jisung is J.One. Changbin over there is Spear.B, Hyunjin is Prince, Felix is Raphael, and Seungmin is Starks.” He pauses. “Like Tony Stark.”
“I got it,” Hongjoong promises. “Uh, well, Min just punched out a zombie when he was scared shitless so he should be Rocky.”
“Hey!” Mingi pouts. “Rude.”
“It was hot,” Hongjoong promises. “I don’t know about me, though.”
Hyunjin waves a hand. “Ignore Minho-hyung; there’s time to think of one.” Minho turns and eyes Hyunjin, who smirks and sticks out his tongue. “Come on, it’s time for dinner. We’re eating like Kings tonight.”
Dinner consists of a bunch of hastily procured kimchi from a supermarket and meat from a pair of bulgogi bowl sets that had been abandoned in the food court. Hongjoong and Mingi learn that their new friends have a structure of sorts, with some members staying back in case those that are going out on supply runs can be patched up. Chan is the leader, and Minho seems to be his right hand, with the others filling in roles wherever needed.
With Hongjoong’s patch job on Chan, he’s asked to join Lucifæl and Ræl - Hyunjin and Felix - and form what Chan decrees will be their medical team. Felix’s parents ran a clinic in Sydney, Australia, and Hyunjin doesn’t seem to go anywhere without him so he’s also picked up some basic patch skills. Changbin and Jisung are going to try to get in touch with other survivors, but mostly they’re going on supply runs with the others; finding supplies is the most important thing after all so that’s where Mingi will be initially slotted in. But it seems having “jobs” has given them a sense of courage in the face of the world as they know it going down in flames. Hongjoong can’t disagree; it gives them something to focus on and feel like they have some semblance of control over the situation.
There are a bunch of rooms in the church that have been haphazardly converted into sleeping quarters, but it seems the group tends to stay in one giant pile for comfort and security. Hongjoong can’t really blame them. He’s pulled from his thoughts by Mingi wrapping his arms around him and burying his face in Hongjoong’s neck as they settle in for the evening. “I love you,” he mumbles.
Hongjoong smiles, hugging his boyfriend back. “We’re going to make it, Min,” he promises. “To the End.”