My blade was already there before the creature arrived.
The thing appeared a split second too late and was cut clean in half. The top half of its body and its head tumbled past my face as it collapsed sideways.
A look of confusion crossed the dying monster's face.
An expression that seemed to say:
*"You… how did you—?"*
*How would I know what a monster's expression means?*
Then again, how many things since yesterday have made any sense?
I watched until it dissolved into gray dust. Two korcas sat in the spot where it had been.
"Oh — not always just one, huh?"
I muttered to myself without thinking, already distracted by the two korcas. That's when I heard a voice behind me.
"Who… who are you?"
She'd pulled herself together a little. Enough to decide I probably wasn't a monster, at least — enough to try talking. But the fear and suspicion in her eyes hadn't gone anywhere.
I pocketed the korcas first. Then I turned to face her.
"Heesung."
"What?"
"Heesung-hee."
"Heesung-hee-sung-hee-sung-heesung-hee."
I repeated it in the same teasing rhythm I used to use on her as a kid. I have no idea why I still remember that cadence after all this time.
At first she looked like she had no idea what I was saying. Then her expression shifted to something between baffled and offended — and then her face softened and she opened her mouth.
"Ji… Jinwoo?"
She remembered. Good.
"Yeah. Jinwoo."
The tension drained out of her and she sank straight down onto the floor. There was no warmth in it — no joy of running into an old friend. That kind of feeling doesn't exist in a moment like this.
Just relief that the person in front of her was human. That was probably all it was.
Sure enough, she didn't ask how I'd been.
"What are you doing here?"
That was the first thing she said after recognizing me. And it was exactly what I wanted to ask her.
"What are *you* doing here?"
I asked the same question back. She didn't answer right away. Then something seemed to hit her and she scrambled to her feet.
"My mom and dad—"
Her voice cracked. I was caught off guard. I tried to calm her down.
"Where are they? You moved away when we were kids, didn't you?"
She started talking in a rush, stumbling over her words.
"They moved back here, but they're not — I came all this way and they're not at the shop, they're not anywhere — where did they—"
She wasn't okay.
From last night until now wasn't that long, but she'd clearly been through a lot. So had I — but at least I'd had Grandpa's bus. I'd made it through the night without too much trouble. And even with the bus, I'd been terrified.
What must last night have been like for people who had nothing?
I didn't want to think about it.
At least not everyone had been wiped out. If I could run into a childhood friend out here in the middle of nowhere, there had to be more survivors out there.
But without shelter, weapons, and food, surviving the night didn't mean much. There was no telling how long anyone could hold on.
Her voice came again. She was staring at nothing.
"The town center… I have to go back to the town center."
That was my plan too — but only I could ride the bus. I didn't want to leave her here alone, either.
She could technically take her own car, but the state of it when I'd seen it outside told the whole story. It had taken a beating. The fact that she'd made it here at all was a miracle.
What was I supposed to do?
While I was thinking it over, she staggered toward the front door. She could barely walk straight. If I let her go like this, she wasn't going to make it through the day.
The creatures showed up day or night. And there was almost no warning before they got close. I'd gotten lucky spotting the one flying in from a distance. But the others — the squat one, the tall one — had appeared out of nowhere.
I needed to figure out how they moved. How they showed up. You can't prepare for something you can't predict.
But first — what do I do about her?
While I was lost in thought, she walked out the front door.
I went after her. She was already through the gate, about to get into the wrecked car.
"Wait — can we talk for a second?"
But her eyes were somewhere else. She just kept murmuring to herself.
"Mom… Dad… I have to find them…"
I put my hand on the driver's door.
"You'll die if you go alone."
She didn't answer. Part of me thought — if she's determined to go, what's the point of stopping her?
But we'd been close once. A long time ago, sure, but when we were kids we were practically family. Years passing doesn't erase what those memories were.
Even a stranger walking toward their death — you'd say something, right? At least once. And she was more than a stranger.
That's when it happened.
"There's a… bus…"
What? She can see the bus?
How is that possible? I'd never shown it to anyone else. The monsters couldn't see it. The dog couldn't see it. But a person can?
Can everyone see it? Or just her? Why?
I'd hoped that meeting someone would give me answers. Instead I had more questions than before.
And then —
*SKREEEEEEEEEE!*
What is that? What is that awful sound?
I turned toward the wooded hill the noise was coming from. And then I grabbed her hand and ran.
At first I thought it was a wild boar.
Even a wild boar would've been reason enough to run — but that wasn't a wild boar.
It was a monster.
I ran as hard as I could, glancing back to get a look at it. Thick, massive legs pounding the ground. A long, grotesque snout. A gaping mouth with enormous tusks jutting out. The size of a bull. But the worst part wasn't the size.
There wasn't just one.
About ten of them — giant boar monsters — were charging straight at us, shrieking that horrible sound.
The ground shook with their weight.
I checked on her as I ran. She was keeping up. Her wrist was thin in my grip, and her light frame came easily when I pulled. At first her eyes were blank, like she didn't understand what was happening — then she registered the boar monsters and started running harder than I was.
"Almost there."
That could've been something we said about the bus. Or something the boar monsters were thinking about us.
Right behind us, a pair of bloodshot, hideous eyes gleamed. Foul-smelling saliva dripped from a gaping mouth.
And somehow, the thought that crossed my mind was:
*Full charge today, probably.*
I still haven't fully adjusted to whatever I'm becoming. Is this who I've always been? Who am I?
We reached the bus door and threw ourselves inside without stopping to think.
She didn't bounce back out.
I checked outside immediately. The door was still open. But it didn't need to be closed.
The whole pack of boar monsters slammed into the bus at once. The bus didn't move. Not even a tremor.
The monsters absorbed the full force of their own impact and went flying in every direction.
They lay scattered around the yard, dazed, staring up at nothing. None of them got up for a while.
I left the door open. Through it, they could see me. I gripped my sword and leaned just my head out.
"Come on then!"
They spotted me and lurched to their feet — then stopped short of the bus. No more charging blindly. They stood there and stared.
I stepped back inside and watched through the open door.
One of them crept slowly up to the entrance and stopped. It glared at me. But it didn't come through the open door. Rancid saliva dripped steadily from its open jaws.
It was within sword range.
I didn't hesitate. I drove the blade into its skull. It went in clean, like bone and hide were nothing. Those hideous red eyes flickered with something that looked like confusion — *why am I dying* — and then it was dust.
The others had watched it happen up close. They didn't come any closer. They spread out, keeping their distance, watching me.
*Not completely brainless, then.*
I leaned out and tried to bait them again. Nothing. They didn't move.
Even monsters know when to value their own lives, apparently.
I pulled out the bow. Aimed at the nearest one and let it fly.
*SKREEEE!*
That wasn't the one I hit. That was the others, watching.
"Scared?"
I looked at the arrow where it had passed through and landed in the yard. Four arrows left. Eight monsters. If they'd just come close enough, I could take them with the sword — but this was getting complicated.
They were backing away now, finding cover, tucking themselves behind whatever they could. Bad angles for the bow. I'd only gotten two korcas so far — two kills. This early in the day, that was a problem.
I thought back to the two I'd taken out at Seonghee's house. In those moments — when my life was actually on the line — time had bent around me in a way that felt impossible. Something I'd never experienced before. But today, that strange sensation was starting to feel almost familiar.
Come to think of it, my heart wasn't pounding. No cold sweat. The fear was just… gone.
*Should I go out there?*
The moment I thought it, I felt a rush of excitement. Anticipation coiling around the hand holding the sword.
*Am I losing it?*
Fear is a survival instinct. You need it to avoid danger. And right now I wasn't feeling it. Didn't that mean I was going to get myself killed?
I was still thinking that when my feet were already moving toward the door. Like I couldn't contain the thrill of it.
Then someone grabbed my arm.
"It's dangerous."
I'd almost forgotten she was there.
I turned around.
"You feeling more like yourself?"
She didn't answer. She recognized me, but she wasn't back to normal — not really. She'd grabbed me on instinct. That was all.
I looked back outside. The monsters were still there — not retreating, not advancing. Watching me from behind cover near the entrance.
*Let's dance.*
I checked the shield on my left arm. Tightened my grip on the sword in my right hand. And walked out the door.