Chapter 3: Prologue

The police rushing in hesitated and stepped back. The infected person’s intensity bordered on madness. Even as their skin tore and bled, they threw themselves against the iron bars.

“Graaagh!”

Saliva sprayed like mist.

The masked officers recoiled in horror, backing away further. Bewildered voices emerged.

“Can we even subdue this?”

“No, subduing isn’t the issue. We need to give first aid to that bleeding man first!”

The officers’ gazes shifted beyond the zombie. I glanced at the drunk too. Blood from his neck was spreading into a pool. If they didn’t stop the bleeding now, even paramedics wouldn’t be able to save him.

And that would be a burden for the police. Surely there was a difference between someone dying in custody versus getting them into an ambulance alive.

I clasped my hands in prayer.

‘Please open the door.’

So I could be safe.

The officers watched the violent tattooed zombie, then gritted their teeth.

“If someone dies here, it’ll be a huge problem. And that infected is dangerous if we leave them. Open the door. Keep the infected from escaping. And you – get a taser!”

“Yes sir!”

When the person who seemed in charge spoke, two people moved. One approaching carefully with keys, another rushing to get the taser.

I quietly shifted backward. Running out as soon as the door opened would be dangerous. My path might cross the zombie’s.

As expected, the zombie moved. The moment the iron door clicked open, they charged toward it.

“Oh crap, they’re coming! Stop them!”

“Agh!”

The zombie and officers tangled together. The zombie tried to bite with gnashing teeth and swung their fists at the officers. One officer bodily engaged the zombie while others grabbed the joints or swung batons.

“Stand back! No, damn, they can’t hear us?”

“Can’t hold them! Too strong!”

“Aagh! I-I’m getting hit here!”

Complete chaos. The rain of blows fell indiscriminately on both the attacking zombie and the officer restraining them, and the struck officer screamed.

That’s when I quietly stood up. Confusion was opportunity. My gaze fixed on the wide open cell door and the entrance leading to it.

I could escape now.

But should I?

Immortal Company’s virus release confirmed to have started three weeks ago-

I watched the TV. Footage of Immortal Company drones spraying the virus. A terminal blanketed in snow and a rally banner dated three weeks ago.

A scenario constructed in my mind.

‘They spread it three weeks ago. But zombies are only appearing now.’

The zombie virus had about a three-week incubation period. And viruses can spread during incubation. Even COVID spread three days before symptoms appeared during incubation.

I clenched my fists.

‘The apocalypse is coming!’

No symptoms until turning into a zombie. Just look at that tattooed man – transformed without warning. Impossible to guess how many people they infected during that asymptomatic period.

This wasn’t a simple zombie apocalypse. Zombies were the symptom; the virus was the real threat. It was like a zombie apocalypse and pandemic apocalypse hitting simultaneously.

Even our advanced society couldn’t withstand this. How could anyone survive when the virus spread unchecked everywhere?

‘Time to run!’

I casually left the cell, walking purposefully along the wall.

If the apocalypse was coming, no point waiting for trials or whatever.

‘Give it time and courts, police, everything will stop functioning.’

I moved toward freedom.

The key was naturalness.

Moving without awkwardness or dissonance, becoming like background scenery. Like a movie extra. Being seen but not registered.

I walked leisurely like part of the holding cell’s background.

“Aaaagh! Stop, stop hitting! You’re killing me! Agh! My bones, bones, bones!”

The backup officers were completely focused on the zombie. No time to worry about small fry like me. They only watched the infected, swinging their batons.

Faced with the real zombie threat, first aid seemed forgotten.

Meanwhile, the zombie thrashed more violently, seemingly excited by the stimulation. Fortunately, their attention remained fixed on the officers.

The zombie’s fierce attacks and the officers’ response.

I passed through the cell door without interference and entered the violent crimes office beyond.

‘Any detectives around?’

Whether due to many cases to investigate or numerous violent crime reports, all the violent crimes detectives were out.

Except for the commotion behind me in the holding cell, silence reigned.

This reality supported my theory.

‘Killing zombies is still murder…’

Then citizens who committed violent crimes against zombies would all be arrest targets. Probably lots of zombies appearing, keeping the detectives busy. Too busy to even guard their office.

The situation was perfect.

Casually, I naturally stole some clothing from a nearby desk. Put on a cap, grabbed a leather jacket from a chair.

Even used the newly stocked hand sanitizer, thoroughly disinfecting my hands.

The Immortal Company chairman I’d seen on TV came to mind.

‘That bastard was smiling even while being dragged away.’

Definitely not the expression of someone whose terror plot failed. That smile that seemed to mock me reformed in my mind.

With a mad scientist’s confidence. A sneer at the whole world.

I found myself muttering without realizing.

“I believe. I believe in Immortal Company. I believe in the Chairman. The apocalypse will come.”

It was both logical deduction and emotional faith.

No apocalypse? Only trial, prison, social stigma, ruined dreams, dark future.

But if the apocalypse comes? Just ruined dreams and dark future. The apocalypse meant losing less. I walked steadily forward, desperately hoping for the apocalypse.

An officer with a taser hurried back to the holding cell, but fortunately didn’t recognize me as a criminal or try to stop me.

“Finally borrowed one!”

Apparently all the tasers were already deployed; the officer muttered about barely managing to borrow one as they passed me.

That’s how I left the police station.

The rising sun cast bright light that stung my eyes. I pulled my cap down low, casting shadows on my face.

The commotion would be brief. Police would soon realize I’d escaped. I needed to move quickly, taking advantage of this momentary gap.

I counted on my fingers, roughly calculating when the zombie apocalypse, the I-virus, would explode.

“One week? Just need to survive about that long?”

Unknown how many days before symptoms the virus could spread. But zombies would definitely surge everywhere soon. The first infected would be reaching the end of their incubation period.

Countless people would become zombies following those showing early symptoms. And zombies would make more zombies. Police wouldn’t have time to worry about me.

So now.

‘Avoid police and prepare for the apocalypse.’

—

Day 2 of the zombie outbreak.

I, once a zombie skeptic, had become a fervent apocalypse believer, fully convinced of the coming zombie apocalypse, and moved for survival and freedom.

The world functioned normally.

Early morning commuters, bustling buses and cars lined up on roads. Despite zombies appearing, people diligently headed to work.

Only masks had changed. Perhaps lessons learned from COVID’s end years ago – everyone wore white masks. People walked like zombies, only tired eyes visible.

For now, this worked in my favor.

‘More people is better.’

Harder to track by CCTV when mixed in crowds.

I also slightly changed my appearance every few blocks. Taking off the cap and jacket, deliberately hunching to appear different in height and build, slicking back my hair.

Though unsure if it actually helped, I did my best.

Around then my mental strength reached its limit.

My steps suddenly stopped.

“What am I even doing?”

Wee-woo wee-woo, wang-wang, police cars and ambulances and fire trucks distantly wailing sirens in the city. Every time sirens passed nearby streets and flashing lights played across my face, my heart dropped.

My hands trembled with fear they might be coming for me. My conscience and civic mindset wavered.

I walked unsteadily, unsure even of my own thoughts, and.

“Aaaaagh!”

“Look out!”

Saw a bus staggering ahead. Like a drunk weaving between sidewalk and road, the bus charged madly forward as pedestrians scattered screaming. Bang, someone hit by the bus flew past me like in a cartoon.

“Agh!”

My mind snapped clear. I yelped and quickly jumped aside.

Vrooom-!

My reaction was slightly late, but fortunately the bus turned onto the road. Following the bus with my gaze, I kept my eyes wide open despite the rushing wind.

As the bus and I crossed paths, the scene inside registered like a photograph.

The bus driver with clenched teeth. People fallen or hanging from handles in the swaying bus. Two raging zombies.

The bus stopped with squealing brakes.

Windows opened almost simultaneously, countless hands reaching out. Shouts rang out.

“Run! Zombie, zombie, aagh!”

“Help us!”

People dropped from windows. Some were pulled back in, caught by zombie hands, others limped away after bad landings. Terror-stricken faces.

Turning to watch, a thought struck me.

‘Public transport is dangerous. Noted.’

A regular bus was lucky – zombies on subways, planes, or highway buses would be truly deadly.

Focused solely on safety considerations, I suddenly smirked. Strange laughter bubbled up.

“Apocalypse. Right. Pointless worries don’t matter.”

Isn’t survival the issue? Conscience, future, all useless wastes of time. We’ll struggle daily just to stay alive.

Maybe because I killed people before zombies. Something in my mind seemed to snap clean off. My thoughts cleared, focused only on apocalypse survival scenarios.

I approached the fallen person ahead. Someone who’d been riding a bicycle and was clipped by the bus. They clutched their leg, groaning from a bad fall.

“My leg, ow. Might be broken.”

My shadow fell over them. They looked up at the presence. I pretended to help by lifting their bicycle first, and the fallen person spoke.

“My phone’s broken, could you call 119- hey, the bike! The bike! Bicycle thief!”

I pedaled away with a loud laugh. The fallen person’s pleas faded behind me, even the running footsteps of those who’d escaped the bus quickly disappeared.

The rushing wind felt refreshing.