Chapter 16: Hope

Knock knock knock-

A faint knocking and voice came through.

“Are you up? Haven’t turned into a zombie?”

I forced my eyes open. Having slept deeply all night, I was having trouble waking up. My voice came out like a zombie’s growl, all heavy and groggy.

“Ugh, urgh…”

“Ah shit. Did he turn?”

The door burst open and a raised hatchet came through. That sharp blade glinting in the sunlight.

I frantically grabbed the hammer by my pillow. Sleep vanished instantly as I called out urgently:

“No! Put that hatchet down!”

“Why are you making zombie noises… You really are a weird guy.”

Do-hyung lowered the hatchet sheepishly. I rubbed my face with both hands several times before putting on my mask.

Of course that was the right thing to do. I’d done the same to him before. It had become routine – sleeping in separate rooms with doors closed, worried about turning into zombies overnight, checking if we were still human each morning.

But being on the receiving end made my heart drop. Worried he might throw that hatchet first and ask questions later.

I waved my hand.

“I’ll eat something, wait in your room.”

“Okay. After you eat let’s talk about what to do about the church.”

Creak, the door closed.

I looked for food. Things close to expiring. Yogurt, tofu starting to go sour, eggs from various homes. Foods we wouldn’t be able to eat once the apocalypse really hit.

It was a bizarrely random meal, but I mechanically shoveled it in like refueling.

The yogurt, tofu and eggs mixed in my mouth as thoughts drifted aimlessly.

‘Feel like I’ve gained weight lately.’

My body feels heavier, probably from eating everything about to expire.

After finishing that thoughtless meal, washing dishes, cleaning up, and boiling barley tea, I knocked on Do-hyung’s door with my hammer.

“So I’m thinking we check out the evening service first. What do you want to do?”

“Being stuck inside is suffocating… I’ll go too.”

Plans were set.

We rested until evening, then slipped out onto the streets when things seemed quiet.

The service was supposed to start at 8 PM. That was when our area had scheduled blackouts. The service would start right as the power went out.

“We’re leaving an hour early? The church isn’t even far. Looks maybe 20 minutes walking.”

Do-hyung swung his hatchet uneasily. Being outside was dangerous, so he clearly wanted to minimize time exposed.

But I shook my head.

“The service isn’t the goal. This is reconnaissance.”

We needed time to survey the building, look for weaknesses to exploit, assess their capabilities.

Had to have enough time to check out the church building.

‘At minimum need to spot a chance to assassinate that pastor or preacher or whatever he is.’

Of course such idle thoughts didn’t last long.

Being out on dangerous streets required full attention. No mental energy to spare.

Eyes wide open scanning for zombies and madmen. We kept weapons ready while looking around constantly.

Cars still drove on roads and quite a few people were visible on streets. Of course zombies too.

“…”

“…”

A strange coexistence typical of transition periods.

People tiptoeing wide circles around zombies to avoid provoking them. Zombies baring teeth at passing cars but not quite throwing themselves into traffic. Like they retained minimal judgment.

Of course this coexistence wouldn’t last.

‘How many infected now? 1.5 million? Over 400,000 zombies they said? Give it more time.’

Ever-increasing zombies.

Almost no one went to government testing centers, and the limited self-test kits actually drove infected into the streets.

That PD who’d make history had planted doubt perfectly.

I swallowed hard.

‘Numbers are bad enough, but when they get hungry they’ll probably start actively hunting people.’

The future looked dark no matter how you sliced it. This was the apocalypse.

The streets already had an almost ruined atmosphere. Restaurants limited to delivery were quiet, no more music drifting from various shops.

People walking the empty streets gripped weapons while watching all directions.

In an era where individuals had to protect their own lives amid pervasive threats, an ominous tension seemed to hang in the air.

Tap tap-

Do-hyung and I tensely gestured directions to each other, taking winding routes to avoid zombies.

Obviously this delayed us. In the dim evening light, what should have been a 20 minute walk took nearly an hour before we finally reached the church.

The church grounds seemed zombie-free. We rushed to catch our breath at the chapel entrance. No time left for reconnaissance.

‘Should have left earlier!’

As I berated myself, an elderly woman at the entrance smiled warmly.

“Such devoted followers. Hurrying not to miss the pastor’s words.”

“Ah, well.”

“My goodness. Just sanitize your hands and hurry in. Service starts soon.”

I tried to respond but she thrust hand sanitizer at us. Looking closer, it had a Post-it note:

‘Hand sanitizer blessed by the pastor himself!’

A thought flashed – too rational a judgment using science. Was the pastor a fraud? Maybe using religion as an excuse to build a survivor group?

Do-hyung spoke awkwardly:

“We’re wearing gloves, so it’s probably fine?”

“Who knows what’s on those gloves. Sanitize them too. Then sign the visitor log.”

I quickly rubbed the sticky sanitizer on my gloves while checking the log. Like the contact tracing logs stores and restaurants used during COVID.

Suddenly got chills. Name, number, address. Right, address.

‘Are they gathering people’s home locations to raid later?’

Alarm bells rang. We’d found something more dangerous than zombies. Someone like me who’d already adapted to the apocalypse. A talented leader organizing through religion.

My eyes started to roll. This was no simple cult. This pastor was my superior version. Had to deal with him somehow.

I quickly grabbed the pen and wrote fake information. Made-up name, fake address, random numbers.

I nudged Do-hyung.

“Hey, almost no time left. I wrote yours too, let’s go in.”

“Right. Doesn’t look like anyone else is coming, let’s go in together.”

“Yes, come with us grandmother.”

Do-hyung followed my lead with a blank expression as the elderly woman came behind us. Her slow footsteps and the chapel door slamming shut sent chills down my spine.

‘Was I suspicious? Why the close monitoring?’

Cold sweat ran down my back.

Still, I casually surveyed the scene under bright lights. Large chapel. Evil wooden chairs torturing spines. People packed in seats.

Large numbers. Men and women of all ages just waiting for the pastor and service. Forces the pastor could command with a word. All armed with baseball bats, crowbars, hatchets, kitchen knives.

My gut said we were screwed.

How to handle this? Fire? Fire extinguishers everywhere? Virus attack? Everyone wore masks properly.

“No seats left. Set up chairs here.”

Clunk-

The elderly woman knocked folding chairs from the wall. I quickly grabbed chairs and set them by the entrance. Perfect position for escape. She followed.

Her warm voice came:

“So good seeing the church full thanks to our pastor. All God’s guidance.”

“Grandmother, are those miracles real?”

“Of course! I experienced it myself. Fellow believers like family, the original pastor, all became zombies. But our pastor’s prayers-“

While Do-hyung kept up friendly chat, I spotted something and squeezed my eyes shut. They tried hiding it but couldn’t fool my eyes.

‘Those are police pistols!’

Several of the men lined against walls like elders? Deacons? Guards or watchers? had glimpses of pistols at their waists.

Police believers who provided guns? No way they saw my internet posts and raided for them? If so I’d armed my own enemy. That can’t be right. Must be plainclothes officers.

Do-hyung happened to show interest in the standing men.

“Why are they standing? Aren’t their legs tired?”

“Hoho. All saved by the pastor. Brothers and sisters who experienced miracles like me. The pastor drove out the virus directly-“

I couldn’t help sighing.

Not police after all. Made the strongly faithful into leaders. Only gave guns to those leaders.

The church was already better organized than I’d imagined. Well enough to turn my amateur schemes back on me. One wrong move and vengeful followers armed with bullets and faith would clearly hunt me down.

‘Can’t think of any good scenarios.’

As I kept secretly sighing, darkness fell. The blackout.

Silence descended on the chapel. Everyone chatting went quiet. That darkness and silence weighed heavily on the mind.

No one turned on phones or made coughing or breathing sounds. Such group unity.

The darkness warped sense of time. Seconds or minutes passed, impossible to tell. Do-hyung whispered quietly:

“Grandmother, when does the service-“

“Shut up.”

The kindly grandmother’s personality flipped instantly as she snapped harshly. Do-hyung closed his mouth.

Then warm flames appeared where the pastor preached. Candles slowly lit up the tall wooden pulpit, casting orange light on the pastor’s face.

‘Knows how to put on a show?’

The screenplay writer in me briefly emerged before the hopeless situation crushed it.

‘Can’t touch this.’

I looked at the pastor’s face in defeat. Already organizing this level of group.

The young man who could pass for a college student brought a portable mic to his closed lips. Well-trained vocals flowed gravely:

“You will not fear the terror of night, nor the arrow that flies by day, nor the pestilence that stalks in the darkness, nor the plague that destroys at midday.”

Bible verse.

I listened blankly to that voice, trying to grasp this church’s cult-like doctrine.

The pastor continued solemnly reciting scripture:

“If you say, ‘The Lord is my refuge,’ and you make the Most High your dwelling, no harm will overtake you, no disaster will come near your tent-“

Keywords of plague, disaster, protection.

Then prayer:

“Oh Lord. Almighty God. God of life. We believe you will save your lambs from this tribulation and plague born of evil men.”

As I listened to his continued words, I slowly grasped the core message.

Doctrine saying Immortal Company’s Chairman was Satan’s servant, the I-virus Satan’s scheme, the faithless become zombies, the faithful resist the virus, even zombies can return through faith.

The pastor’s seemingly miraculous history synergized with doctrine fitting current events.

I reached my conclusion.

Couldn’t beat this. Like police stations and government facilities, this was beyond my capabilities.

“Amen.”

“Amen!”

When the pastor spoke briefly, a wave of voices responded. I went through prayer motions like being swept up in that wave. Dark enough no one would see anyway, just for show.

I recalled two old sayings.

If you can’t beat them, join them!

‘A group this size might actually benefit from joining. Though the faith and belief system really isn’t my thing…’

Just had to act like a fanatic right? What wouldn’t you do to survive the apocalypse.

The second saying went:

The enemy within is most fearsome!

‘If I get close enough for a quiet assassination… Or secretly raid addresses from the visitor log under the church’s name…’

My eyes flashed in the darkness.

Whether good or evil, choices just followed benefit. Pick the bright hopeful path based on circumstances.