Ch.99Chapter 13. Superiority (6)

Eight human zombies emerged from the bushes. But their posture was unusual. Instead of walking upright, they lowered their bodies as if trying to walk on all fours.

Their necks were stretched forward, and drool dripped from their tightly closed mouths.

A large dog appeared among them. Judging by the grotesque flesh bulging from its long-torn side, it seemed to be a zombie as well. It looked like a Rottweiler or something similar.

The one leading the pack was also drooling. However, it didn’t rush forward recklessly. It just quietly observed the chaotic village while slowly lowering its posture.

It was preparing to attack.

The human zombies also waited in the same posture as the dog. When one of them started clicking its teeth impatiently, another zombie nudged it aside. It seemed to be telling it to exercise restraint.

Just as humans might use dogs for a hunting drive, the zombie dog was preparing to hunt with its human zombies.

Under normal circumstances, they would have been spotted immediately. Even though they emerged from the tall grass, they were still standing halfway up the hill.

But those foolish men and women, along with others, were distracted by the alarm bell, the warning sounds from the loudspeakers, and the gunshots that had begun to come from the opposite side of the village.

A diversionary tactic. Making noise on one side to draw attention while attacking from another. A cunning strategy.

Camilla had already mounted a scope on her sniper rifle. She positioned herself and shouldered the weapon. But she didn’t fire.

“Johan. What should we do?”

The villagers, including that couple, had already fallen into the zombies’ trap. With firearms, not everyone would be killed, but they would suffer considerable casualties.

Meanwhile, our position was quite favorable. We were well-hidden, and our bicycles were nearby. If things turned unfavorable, we could simply retreat.

And with our shooting skills, Camilla and I could take down those zombies without much difficulty.

But what then? How would those humans react?

All humans are suspicious. Outside of protected zones, it’s more reasonable to view everyone as potential enemies. And I trust no one except Camilla and Cassandra.

So in this situation, there’s only one thing to consider: what action would bring us the greatest benefit right now?

I took a handkerchief from my pocket. It was already damp from wiping sweat several times along the way. I put it inside my shirt and wiped my body more thoroughly.

“Camilla. Cover me.”

I put down my M4 rifle and picked up a stone from the ground, wrapping it in the handkerchief.

“What are you doing?”

Camilla asked with a grimace.

“We need to get out of here. But if we leave now, there’s a high chance we’ll be spotted. By zombies or humans. Neither is appealing.”

“So?”

“I’m going to keep both sides busy. Test something at the same time, and if that doesn’t work, we’ll just hide well and escape when things calm down.”

Camilla looked back and forth between my pistol and the stone in my hand. Then she shook her head as if giving up on asking any more questions.

“…Fine.”

“Camilla.”

“What?”

“Thank you. Always.”

“Stop saying useless things and just go. I won’t shoot until you’re in danger, just so you know.”

It’s always easier moving with Camilla.

I lowered my body as much as possible and ran across the road. As soon as I started running, I jumped into the bushes on the other side and practically lay flat.

I observed their movements through binoculars. A couple of human zombies looked in my direction, but not seeing anything noteworthy, they turned back to watch the village.

The foolish couple had completely entered the village. The zombie dog slowly walked forward. Its body was taut and tense, like it was preparing to pounce at the count of three.

A little closer.

I circled around in an arc. Getting behind them. The stone wrapped in the handkerchief had dried slightly, so I tucked it inside my shirt and rubbed it against various parts of my body.

Cassandra had said that the virus in my body produces substances that excite others.

So what would happen with zombies who don’t know me at all?

I threw it.

Unfortunately, I didn’t hit any of them. It was fortunate enough that it landed near the pack. The startled zombie dog made a “kwang” sound. The other human zombies, seemingly not having heard the sound, looked at the dog strangely, wondering why it suddenly jumped.

The dog walked toward the stone. It seemed to be sniffing the scent. Following the dog’s unexpected behavior, the other human zombies also gathered close, smelling the handkerchief.

The zombie dog suddenly began digging the ground roughly with its front paws. It shook its head violently and scratched its neck. The reactions of the zombies who had smelled it were different from before. Some straightened their bodies, while others clutched their stomachs.

Hunger, starvation.

The zombies pushed each other. It was a gesture like before, trying to draw attention. The large dog moved among the zombies, rubbing its body against the humans. It seemed like behavior meant to imprint its scent.

But the eight zombies appeared to be agitated. They raised their shoulders as if suppressing anger, drooled more than before, and even tried to bite parts of each other’s bodies with their mouths wide open.

The commotion grew more intense. Unable to watch any longer, the zombie dog began to nip at the legs of those who had started fighting.

“Kyahaak.”

A sound escaped.

The dog stretched its neck and howled. A howling that resonated deep from its throat. With that as a signal, the dog ran forward.

Yes. This is it.

“There he is! That’s him!”

People from the village came running in a panic.

I gave them a hint. They won’t be ambushed now. The rest is up to the humans in the village. I don’t want to help strangers only to be told “you’re next.”

The large dog sprinted across the ground like lightning. It didn’t care about bullets hitting around it.

No, it seemed to be deliberately jumping around to draw fire. Probably to protect the zombies following behind.

These zombies couldn’t jump like dogs, but they knew how to avoid bullets by moving in zigzags and using terrain features to hide, placing them in the top 5% of zombies I’ve seen.

They were completely different from the ones I’d seen before that ran straight toward food. They were more like the angry monkey troops I’d seen in documentaries.

Instinctively reducing body exposure, making loud noises to confuse, ignoring non-fatal wounds from bullets, and seemingly trying to resist eating wounded comrades despite drooling more. No, they seemed to be trying to resist.

What governed them wasn’t hunger.

It was rage.

The people didn’t stand idle either. Some of the firepower that had been focused on the dog shifted to the zombies behind.

As if waiting for that moment, the dog made a big leap. The terrified humans couldn’t respond properly.

I pressed against the corner of a collapsed wall and aimed my pistol.

With the silencer attached and the surrounding noise, neither the humans nor the zombies seemed to notice where the shot came from, or even if a shot had been fired at all.

Although the silencer was attached, it couldn’t completely block the dull, heavy sound itself. Still, with all the surrounding noise, it would be very difficult to pinpoint just this sound.

I fired three shots. Two hit the dog’s back and nape. The dog, leaping into the air, howled in pain. Blood gushed out.

It howled more fiercely, as if in anguish. The frenzied creature jumped into the village, dripping blood.

“No, don’t come, don’t come!”

The man wasted bullets with rapid fire. The dog leaped up and savagely bit the man’s neck and face.

The female companion fired bullets at both the dog and the man. Torn limbs were clearly visible.

“Goddess. May I fatten you with my blood and flesh!”

After uttering this incomprehensible incantation, she placed the rifle against her chin. Unable to watch, I turned away. A firing sound. The sound of a person collapsing.

A whistle came from behind. Camilla was running toward me, carrying both my gun and hers. Even while running, she would stop, fire two shots at a time, and blow away the heads of approaching zombies.

We didn’t say much to each other. We entered the village.

* * * * *

The last survivor was a woman who looked somewhat older. Sitting on a bench, she appeared quite composed. But her arms and thighs had already been bitten. She couldn’t avoid the mutation.

“I should thank the Goddess.”

Even in her final moments, the woman looked dignified.

“Why?”

“When we first came here, there were sixteen of us. Until we were eaten one by one by that demon.”

Unable to raise her arm, the woman nodded toward the fallen dog.

“That demon and those humans took us one by one and ate us. Only ten remained. If it weren’t for you, we couldn’t have even taken revenge. The Goddess sent you to us. I’m truly grateful for her mercy.”

We came on our own, not because that skinny wooden stick sent us. Fanatics all talk like this. Camilla also snapped irritably.

“You were too complacent and amateurish. You know that?”

They hadn’t even set up a single barricade. The area they had to defend was too large, and their defense was hopelessly inadequate.

“Well, we weren’t fighters. By the way, I have one request. Just give me one bullet. You know what I mean? The payment… the red-roofed house… supplies, cough, cough.”

She wanted me to shoot her in the head before she turned into a zombie.

“Sure.”

I answered. After all, there’s no benefit in having one more zombie in the world. The woman grinned. Her face was getting increasingly flushed.

I fired the pistol.

* * * * *

The red-roofed house contained guns and ammunition from the police station, supplies from the convenience store, and various items collected from each house. They had even labeled the floor “Supply Storage.”

There were several cars in the garage, but they weren’t in great condition. One van was somewhat usable. We loaded the electric bicycles first. For firearms, there was one R-15, three Osberg shotguns, and five 226 pistols. The maintenance level was decent.

The 5.56mm ammunition was stored in a metal box, while the rest were in small quantities in paper boxes. Finding slug rounds was a decent haul. They’re effective enough against large beasts.

Besides that, we packed small but important items like medicines, seasonings, preserved foods, cooking utensils like pots, clothes, and hygiene products. I particularly liked the bundle of plastic garbage bags.

Finally, we packed flour sacks and bundles of bottled water. We planned to gather the rest gradually as we went back and forth.

Lastly, I checked each room to see if we’d missed anything. There were just unorganized sleeping bags, clothes, and open drawers.

Then I entered the master bedroom. There was a family photo hanging. It looked somewhat familiar. Next to people smiling broadly while wearing hunting vests, brimmed hats, and holding guns, a dog sat majestically.

That Rottweiler.

“Johan, let’s finish packing the laptop… What’s this?”

Camilla entered the room. She also saw the photo. We were silent for a moment. A certain situation formed in our minds.

This place was originally their village. I’m not sure whether outsiders came first or they mutated first.

But for some reason, they became zombies, and even after becoming zombies, they kept trying to return home and killed the strangers one by one.

Cassandra had said that some component from my body stimulates both zombies and humans.

If it’s true that it amplifies emotional states, then I had intensified their anger.

Do they still remember their past even after becoming zombies?

Or, like ordinary people, can zombies also feel anger without any reason, just from vague emotions?

How different are humans who have lost their judgment from beasts, and beasts from zombies?

I don’t know.

“Let’s go now.”

I gently held Camilla’s hand.

“Okay.”