Ch.90Chapter 12. New Life (5)

Cassandra was desperate. No one would listen to her warnings about the end of the world. So desperate that she clung to me, a complete stranger, when I agreed with her: “You’re right. This world is going to end.”

That’s what it meant—she was mentally cornered and anxious. But now she was saying it was all a “lie”?

Searching for a response, I look at her hands.

They’re fidgeting, rubbing against each other, even pinching. Her thumb and index finger show clear signs of having been bitten raw from nervousness.

Her lifeless eyes never rest in one place, constantly scanning her surroundings. Her shoulders are raised high, a sign of tension.

Bloodshot eyes. A shadowed face. Frightened and full of wariness. Anxiety disorder.

“Haven’t you been sleeping?”

Perhaps because it was an unexpected question, Cassandra took a moment before answering.

“I slept plenty last night.”

“Doesn’t seem like you slept well.”

“I’ve always been like that.”

Even as she speaks, she grips the door handle tightly. She struggles to take off her thin windbreaker. With Cassandra’s help, I barely manage to remove it.

“Why are you suddenly taking off your clothes, Johan?”

I extend my right arm.

“Tie the coat sleeve to my arm. And the other end to yours.”

“What are you doing?”

“I told you. I won’t leave you behind. Tie it.”

Cassandra narrows her eyes and glares at me.

“You really are a strange person.”

I was about to say, look who’s talking. But she ties it quite meticulously around my wrist. She leaves enough slack so it’s not too tight. After tying it to her own arm as well, her trembling seems to have subsided somewhat.

“Cassandra. I didn’t say I’d believe you without thinking. The zombie problem isn’t something to take lightly—that hasn’t changed since we first met until now. You know that. Besides, I’ve seen many things I can’t explain since then.”

I tell her about the strange things I’ve witnessed during our journey.

The story of the excessively large and grandiose plants at the agricultural center. Abnormally fast-growing and enormous fruits. Even vines that explosively grew from zombie corpses.

Back then, they just seemed bizarre.

Now I think I understand what they are. Intentional mutations caused by humans that escaped from laboratories and were released into the world. And the aftermath has spiraled beyond control.

“I don’t know science and medicine as well as you do. But I can make judgments based on common sense. Everything happening now doesn’t make any sense.

Those in power aren’t trying to solve the zombie crisis. You said the Disease Control Agency is the same. Even the Elsa Liberation Army, who should be on the people’s side since they claim to be fighting to free Elsa, is no different.

As far as I know, you’re the only scientist looking at the zombie situation itself. That’s why Camilla and I came to rescue you. We need to survive, right?”

Of course, I know what happens “after” this world ends. But no matter how unconventional Cassandra is, that story would sound absurd to her.

I just hope she’ll accept this much. After a long silence, Cassandra rubbed her eyes. The dryness in the car made them sound scratchy.

“I’m sorry.”

For the first time, her voice wasn’t trembling.

“I’m sorry. Cassandra has been… ignored for too long. No one would listen to what Cassandra had to say. They mocked me. Laughed at me. One bad woman understood what Cassandra was saying, but she didn’t care and instead… seemed to want the world to end.”

“Who? Can you tell me?”

“…Virginia Helford.”

Virginia. A mysterious woman. Tough, busty, pretty, and impossibly strong. And she’s trying to capture and kill us.

What did we ever do to her?

“Anyway, I didn’t want to be disappointed again. So Cassandra said harsh things without realizing it.”

“Let’s call it even.”

“What?”

“The Lambert incident and this. Let’s call it even.”

“Okay.”

It’s tough calming someone down. As soon as she finished answering, Cassandra let out a huge yawn that nearly split her face.

“Sleepy?”

No answer. She was already asleep with her head bowed. I reached out and helped her rest her head against the seat.

A while later, Camilla, who was driving ahead, turned on her hazard lights. A gas station was visible in the distance. She wanted to stop for fuel.

Camilla, who had gone ahead, circled the gas station once. No zombies or people appeared. Rifle in hand, Camilla got out of the driver’s seat and checked the surroundings, but found nothing unusual.

Just a corpse with a bullet hole in its head, and a fuel pump swinging from its hose. Someone must have hurriedly filled up and left.

“I’m curious, who’s tied to whom here?”

From beyond the open door, Camilla asked with her arms crossed. Cassandra was clutching the coat binding us together as if it were a lifeline.

“Good question.”

* * * * *

4 PM.

The scenery outside hadn’t changed much. Vast fields, zombies watching from a distance, the still-blue sky, and sunlight that had lost some of its intensity.

Cassandra finally woke up.

As soon as she got up, she smacked her lips, looking for water. When I handed her the water bottle placed between the driver’s and passenger’s seats, she gulped down half of it.

Her eyes were still red, but her body’s trembling had noticeably decreased.

“Did you sleep well?”

“Yes. I slept so well I can’t remember the last time I slept like that.”

Her pronunciation was clearer than before, suggesting that sleep deprivation had indeed contributed to her earlier frantic state. Seeing her even smile a little, she seemed much calmer now.

“Remember what we talked about before leaving? Today we’ll sleep in a suitable garage. One person will stand watch while the others sleep in the car. Do you know how to use a gun?”

“Yes. Even Disease Control Agency people receive basic military training. But my accuracy isn’t great. Maybe twelve hits out of twenty shots.”

“That’s good enough.”

Both Camilla and I are quite proficient with guns. Cassandra just needs to hold a light weapon and watch the side paths.

“But weren’t you good at physical combat? That’s what it looked like in Lambert.”

“I’m fairly confident in hand-to-hand combat. I’m decent with weapons too. I’ve been learning since childhood.”

Growing up as a boss’s daughter in the criminal underworld, I suppose. Anyway, she knows how to protect herself.

But how far do we need to go?

Though it’s early summer, the sun sets surprisingly quickly. We need to find shelter before dark. Otherwise, we’ll have to park on the shoulder and sleep there.

Camilla seemed to share my concern and increased her speed. After passing through flat land mixed with red sand and gravel, we came upon a dried-up cornfield. It seemed endless, as if a picture of a cornfield had been pasted on our windows.

After passing through the field, we saw silos for storing grain and a warehouse for farm equipment. The warehouse door was firmly shut with a padlock. Camilla turned on her hazard lights, indicating we should check it out.

The parking lot and open space were quite large. After circling it twice, we didn’t notice anything unusual. Camilla waved her hand out the window, signaling us to get out and investigate.

Cassandra and I untied the coat binding us. I handed her a pistol—a 1911. Someone of her ability should be able to handle the recoil without difficulty.

“You know how to use it?”

“Yes. I’ve used one before.”

“Camilla and I generally avoid using guns unless necessary. But when we need to, we use them decisively. So don’t shoot before we do.”

“Understood.”

I took an MP45 submachine gun, while Camilla carried an R-15 rifle. They were among the useful items we’d salvaged from the resort’s armory.

“Don’t worry, Doctor.”

Camilla shrugged. Cassandra nodded.

“Even if you get hurt, I’ll keep you breathing.”

“…That’s not very reassuring.”

First, we circled the area. Apart from a musty smell, nothing seemed amiss. It was different from the smell of rotting crops in the field. If I had to describe it, it was like the difference between dried-out leather and damp straw.

There was a window on the garage wall. I shone my light through it but couldn’t see anything significant. I tried pushing it upward, but it wouldn’t open.

“Camilla, should we break the window and go in?”

“It might be easy to get in that way, but harder to get out. Too risky. Let’s just open the door.”

“It’ll be noisy.”

“Breaking a window would be just as loud. Hold the rifle for me. Doctor, please cover me. Let’s go to the truck.”

Camilla brought a sledgehammer from the truck. I watched as she lifted and lowered it like a weightlifter, loosening her arm muscles.

I aimed my submachine gun at a spot in the distance.

Camilla swung the hammer handle.

THUD!

The handle broke through the door and bounced into the garage. The seemingly sturdy door gave way helplessly.

I shone my light inside. Nothing special appeared at first glance. Just to be safe, I picked up a small stone from the ground and threw it in. I heard the stone hit the wall and bounce back, but nothing else happened.

“Going in.”

“Be careful.”

Camilla and Cassandra pressed themselves firmly against the wall beside the door. I entered. It was a spacious area, large enough to park our vehicles. Rusty folding chairs were neatly arranged against one wall.

“Ugh.”

The stench of decay was overwhelming. Covering my mouth, I examined the interior. I saw a man sitting with his back against the wall. He was wearing a suit with a withered flower in his front pocket. A gun in one hand, and near his heart, traces of life that had already seeped out and hardened.

Behind the man was a horrific painting depicting the goddess of hunger. I shone my light around to see more.

There were paintings seemingly depicting the goddess of hunger, bulletin boards labeled “Weekly Activities” and “Gospel Messages.” It appeared to have been used as a small chapel. A broken birdcage lay on the floor.

A whiteboard next to the bulletin board caught my attention.

– No matter what sounds you hear from the fields, NEVER go alone.

It was marked with stars and emphasized as important.

* * * * *

We had WD spray perfect for rusty hinges, a shovel that could dig a grave, and cutters that could easily cut through old chains, but no deodorizing spray.

With the three of us digging together, we were able to bury the man deeply before sunset. Without a proper coffin, we had to cover the body with a sack. I hadn’t heard stories of zombie rats or humans digging up corpses to eat them, but this seemed less disrespectful than leaving the deceased vulnerable to desecration.

“If I’d known, I would have bought deodorizing spray in Hampton. Even without proper burial clothes, we could have at least masked the smell.”

Camilla seemed troubled by this.

“You’re kinder than you look.”

Cassandra tried to help in her own way. It would have been better without the unnecessary “than you look” qualifier. Camilla flinched slightly but held back after seeing my expression.

We parked both vehicles in the garage and securely barred the inside. We stuffed clothing into the windows and gaps to prevent light from escaping. We completely blocked the door that had lost its handle with furniture.

Dinner consisted of water and canned bread. It was impossible to cook in these conditions. Because of the smell of rotting grain, all three of us retreated to the pickup truck to force down our food.

“Hey. Even though we have two vehicles, let’s all sleep together here. Two of us can recline the seats, and the back seat is spacious enough to sleep comfortably.”

Camilla opposed my suggestion.

“I disagree, Johan. If something goes wrong, all three of us could be taken out at once. Besides, the 2.5-ton truck sits higher, making surveillance easier. Why give up that advantage?”

“I agree with Johan. We’ll be taking turns on watch tonight. For shift changes, it’s better if we’re all together rather than separated.”

Cassandra shook her head. Both had valid points. I had considered all three of us sleeping in the truck, but it wasn’t spacious enough for that.

“Let’s just sleep together in one place.”

I pushed my decision. Camilla seemed somewhat dissatisfied but nodded, acknowledging that our reasoning wasn’t entirely wrong.

Today we changed the rotation: Cassandra first, me in the middle, and Camilla last. After a quick tooth brushing and rinsing our mouths with bottled water, we took turns changing clothes in the truck before returning to the pickup to sleep.

How long had I been asleep?

“Johan.”

Cassandra whispered.

“Johan, wake up.”

Not just me, but Camilla in the back seat seemed to have awakened too. Hearing a soft metallic sound, she must have instinctively grabbed her gun.

“Cassandra, what’s wrong?”

“I hear something.”

I slightly opened the car door and listened.

“Help me…!”