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Day 2 of the zombie outbreak.

I woke up in a detention cell.

***

Clang, clang, clang. The sound of someone banging on the iron bars and shouting.

“Wake up, wake up! It’s time to get up! Breakfast will be served soon.”

I groggily got up. My whole body ached from sleeping on the hard floor. The dull, monotonous scenery of the detention cell unfolded before my blurry eyes.

Iron bars. Police officers.

Then it hit me. Murder. Arrest. A body search, my pot confiscated, and the investigation postponed to today, with the promise to start once I regained my senses.

“Ah…”

I covered my face with both hands and let out a deep sigh. My life was as dark as my vision.

Murder? I made a terrible judgment. Even if zombies appeared, the apocalypse didn’t come. I didn’t need to react like that.

I remembered the scene I saw through the car window yesterday while being transported after my arrest.

‘The world was perfectly fine…’

Despite the zombie outbreak, there were no zombies on the streets. People were just wearing masks. The world hadn’t changed much.

Only my life had changed.

“I must be crazy. Really. Ah, ah. Why did I kill someone?”

I banged my head against the wall.

Was it lack of sleep? Or was it because I got too immersed in writing a zombie apocalypse scenario? I acted impulsively.

And this is the result. Detention cell. Future inmate. I’ll probably be on the news.

I glanced down and saw an uncle sleeping on the floor, reeking of alcohol, and a young man with tattoos covering his arms. Fellow detainees.

“…”

The tattooed young man cautiously looked at me, then subtly backed away. Whether it was because of my muttering or because he heard something, he seemed to know I was arrested for murder.

The heavy reality sank in again. I was now a violent criminal that people avoided.

I slumped my shoulders and stared blankly at the bars outside. Since I’m caught, there’s no point in planning my future by writing scenarios.

Hire a lawyer, wait for the trial…

That’s it.

‘There’s nothing I can do.’

I leaned back against the corner.

In the detention cell, there’s nothing to do except watch the police sitting in front and the TV beyond the bars.

‘Detention cell… This is also an experience…’

I unconsciously pondered whether I could use this situation in a scenario, then laughed at myself.

‘I’m about to go to prison, what scenario? Or maybe I can adapt my experiences into a scenario after I get out?’

I’ll probably be imprisoned for at least 10 years, so what’s the point? With the label of a murderer, will it even work? Or maybe a zombie apocalypse would be better than prison life.

I stupidly continued my thoughts, then looked at the large TV outside the bars.

Disaster broadcast? Emergency broadcast? Anyway, it was breaking news.

I listened carefully.

– The symptoms resemble zombies, but they are just patients infected with a virus. Citizens, there’s no need to worry too much as it can be prevented with disease prevention measures.

An expert reassured everyone. This virus is easier to manage than COVID, which ended a few years ago.

Then the announcer received a piece of paper and smiled brightly.

– Yes, we have breaking news.

The screen changed.

Armed forces storming a building. Several people were dragged out in handcuffs.

– Immortal Company, a global pharmaceutical company. Executives from the Korean branch of Immortal Company, who ordered the release of the I-virus, have been arrested.

The screen changed rapidly.

Drones resembling pesticide sprayers flying around. Concert halls, stadiums, gatherings, transportation hubs, densely populated areas.

The announcer read the text clearly.

– According to a whistleblower, Immortal Company, under the command of its headquarters, systematically and deliberately spread the virus worldwide using drones.

“Ah.”

I sighed.

A zombie apocalypse was indeed unrealistic. A virus with bizarre symptoms, but easier to handle than COVID. A competent government.

Even with drones spreading the virus, the world isn’t so easily shaken.

‘Why did I spray that soap water? I could have just closed the door and held out.’

A momentary mistake turned into a disaster, pushing my life off a cliff. I watched the TV, filled with deep regret.

The screen changed again. Immortal Company wasn’t just in Korea.

The U.S., China, Russia, Japan, France, the U.K.—scenes of Immortal Company buildings and research institutes being raided in various countries.

– Governments worldwide are cooperating to search Immortal Company. Doctor? Will this affect the development of vaccines and treatments?

– Of course. If they created the virus, they must have research data. Obtaining such data would aid development.

The doctor paused, then continued.

– At the very least, we can establish effective quarantine measures.

I don’t know if that’s true. Maybe they’re just spouting optimistic nonsense due to reporting guidelines.

Everything seemed pessimistic to me.

– Yes, we have new information. The chairman of Immortal Company’s headquarters has also been arrested.

The arrested chairman of Immortal Company was dragged out, wearing a strange smile. It felt like he was mocking me through the screen.

I clenched my fists so tightly that my nails dug into my palms.

“That guy’s fault.”

If it weren’t for that insane Immortal Company, there wouldn’t have been a zombie outbreak, and I wouldn’t have killed anyone. Everything, everything is because of that guy. My life.

If only that guy had made the virus properly, my killing would have just been eliminating a potential competitor in the same building.

“Rather…”

I muttered. A dark thought crossed my mind.

If only a zombie apocalypse had come. If the world had fallen into chaos. If killing a few people became normal.

Then my crime would be buried, and I could live as a normal person.

The fear of trial and prison life, the stigma of being a murderer, the shattered dream of being a scenario writer, the bleak future—all pressed down on my brain like a vice.

I grabbed my head and groaned. It felt like my brain was being crushed.

Then, I heard a sound.

“Grrr.”

A beast-like growl. Not the snoring of the drunk uncle. Not my sound either. I jerked my head up.

The tattooed young man across from me had suddenly turned into a zombie.

***

Just like the student zombie I saw yesterday.

The tattooed young man, now a zombie, clutched his head and growled. In the shadows, I saw drool dripping from his mouth. He raised his head. Bloodshot eyes.

“…”

My headache vanished instantly. Trapped in a detention cell with a zombie, what future was I worrying about? The immediate problem was now.

Words flooded my mind.

‘Zombie. What are its traits?’

It transforms without warning. Definitely aggressive. But what’s the criteria for choosing targets? Sensory organs are probably human-level. What should I do now?

Thud—thud—

The tattooed young man cracked his joints as he got up. Like an excited beast, he wildly turned his head. The silent detention cell, the sound of the TV—he pressed his head against the bars, then glared at the loudly snoring drunk uncle.

I quietly watched the tattooed young man, then slowly raised my hand. I covered my breathing with my hand over the mask.

‘It’s sound.’

I held my breath in the corner of the cell.

“Grrr.”

The tattooed young man prowled roughly. Between the bars and the snoring drunk uncle. Drool dripped from his mouth, leaving traces where he passed.

‘Notice something!’

I desperately signaled to the police outside. I couldn’t shout, afraid I’d become the target.

“Wow. Why did someone with so much money do that?”

But the police casually turned back to watch the TV, and eventually, an accident happened.

Snore—

The drunk uncle lay on the cell floor, snoring loudly. Still drunk, his face was red, and his shirt and tie were loose.

The tattooed young man glared at the drunk uncle, crouching. His face twisted. He seemed unable to bear the irritation and anger from the snoring. He opened his mouth wide and lunged.

There was no scream. He just bit into the drunk uncle’s neck.

Crunch, flesh was torn away. Blood spurted. The sound and color were vivid.

The drunk uncle woke up instantly.

“Ahhh! What, ahhh! Get away, get away!”

Screams and blood filled the detention cell. It had turned into a crime scene.

I slowly moved toward the door, and the police watching the TV jumped up in shock. The police blinked, then frantically grabbed the radio.

“Detention cell, an inmate is attacking another inmate!”

At that moment, our eyes met. I desperately rolled my eyes. Looking at the infected, then at the police, silently gesturing toward the door.

If you don’t open the door, I’ll be attacked and killed too. Please, just open the door.

The police avoided my gaze.

“Call 119. We need backup! It’s an infected person, hard to handle alone.”

What backup? Someone’s dying right now!

I almost shouted but clenched my mouth shut. This is insane. I glanced at the tattooed young man, who seemed to have lost interest after tasting the drunk uncle.

“Grr, grr.”

The drunk uncle couldn’t snore anymore. He pressed his neck wound with both hands, gasping for breath, his pupils dilated as he stared at the cell ceiling.

Thud, the tattooed young man stomped through the blood, looking around. His bloodshot eyes swept over the quiet me and the police on the radio.

My body tensed automatically. Can I fight and win? No, fighting isn’t the point. Even if I win, I could still lose in the end.

The unknown virus transmission route. Bites, saliva splashes, scratches, airborne. I have to be careful of everything.

‘Not fighting is the best option.’

I held my breath. Then, I subtly signaled to the police. Slowly moving my hand, I mimed knocking on the bars. Get his attention.

“Ah!”

Fortunately, the police caught on quickly. He unfolded his baton and enthusiastically banged on the bars opposite me.

The dazed tattooed young man’s face twisted again. He covered his ears with clenched fists, then charged at the bars.

“Ahhh!”

The tattooed young man smashed his head against the bars. His forehead split, blood flowed. It was almost self-harm. The police backed away at the sight of the blood.

“Uh. This isn’t good.”

Probably thinking about various issues related to the inmate. Inducing self-harm or something.

But the police were already too late. The excited tattooed young man gnashed his teeth and kept throwing himself at the police.

He had no interest in me at all.

‘Good.’

I smiled, adjusting my mask.

Then, the escape opportunity came.

Police rushing into the detention cell to subdue the infected, the door opened to rescue the bleeding drunk uncle, zombies and police tangled together.

I saw the wide-open door, the detention cell entrance, and the empty violent crimes office beyond.

 

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