Chapter 22
Day 45 of the zombie outbreak.
The world has over 1 million zombies and nearly 3 million infected. Like the tide rolling in, a flood approaching, or dominoes falling, the world is slowly crumbling.
But there was still hope.
***
Thud! Clatter!
The church is busy. People are bustling around, stacking desks, chairs, and useless furniture into barricades at the entrance and stairwells.
“Yes, leave just enough space for people to pass through, but arrange it so we can block it quickly if needed! Uh, make it narrower!”
I gestured to the people, sweating profusely.
The church, where the pastor was murdered by a wicked security elder, has transformed into a survival community of elders’ families and a few believers’ families.
Naturally, the church building has also completely changed. Into a full-fledged fortress.
Everyone works, regardless of age or gender. Those with strength, like me, fortify the building or set traps on the grounds. Those with less strength farm in the spaces where PET bottles or paving blocks were removed or make various tools.
“Deacon Kwon, isn’t it too narrow?”
A college student dressed in spring-like attire tilted her head. According to Jeondohyeong, she’s the friend of a whistleblower killed by zombies and a believer who decided to stay in the Hope Community.
I looked at the narrow stairwell, barely wide enough to pass sideways, and shook my head.
“If it’s inconvenient for people, it’ll be inconvenient for zombies too. This is good. If zombies suddenly come, it’ll be easy to block.”
“…Zombies are scary.”
Perhaps remembering her friend who was bitten to death by zombies at home, her expression darkened.
I smiled at her and pointed upward.
“If you have time for this, go upstairs and plant tomatoes in PET bottles.”
“It’s boring with just the aunties.”
“Even if it’s boring, you have to work. It’s all crops that will end up in your mouth.”
Those who don’t work are unnecessary to the community. They’ll be zombie food.
Of course, that’s just imagination. Being a community, even assassination is out of the question. At most, they’d be assigned dangerous tasks. Unlike small groups of pillagers, there are many limitations.
Then it happened.
“Done setting up—”
Jeondohyeong came in, saw me and the college student, and jumped in shock. In his hand was a rope, fluttering as he leaped.
“What, what, what are you doing with her?”
“Jeondohyeong?”
The college student squeezed through the narrow stairwell and approached Jeondohyeong. They seemed to have gotten quite close.
Jeondohyeong, imagining something, looked at me with a face trying to hide anxiety. I blinked. Why is he acting like this? It’s like a murderer suddenly appearing next to his friend.
I slowly went downstairs.
“Done with work? Let’s take a look.”
“Yes, it’s done. Uh, what were you talking about with Yaeji?”
“Who’s Yaeji?”
Jeondohyeong gulped, and I looked puzzled. The college student pouted.
“You don’t even know my name? You were introduced last time.”
“Ah.”
Come to think of it, I might have heard it. Na Yaeji, was it?
Anyway, she wasn’t worth remembering. Her major probably wasn’t useful for the apocalypse, and her temperament didn’t seem suited for pillaging.
The three of us walked together. Na Yaeji grumbled to Jeondohyeong.
“Deacon Kwon keeps nagging me to work.”
“Of course, you have to work!”
“I worked hard on the posters! I stayed up all night and finally got a break today!”
Now I remember. Art? Design? She majored in that and worked hard on Hope Community posters under the evangelical elder.
A thought crossed my mind.
‘The community is the community. I want my own pillager-like logo.’
Inspired by the ‘I’ logo of Immortal Company. Immortal, isn’t that a good meaning? Even in the apocalypse, I will be immortal.
Jeondohyeong, noticing my expression, turned pale. A trembling voice came.
“If you don’t work, you’ll die.”
“What nonsense. Why would someone die for taking a day off? Right, Deacon Kwon?”
I came to my senses.
“Yes, a day off is fine. People aren’t machines; they break if they work continuously. By the way, the grounds look good.”
Ignoring Na Yaeji laughing at the idea of people being machines and Jeondohyeong muttering about a day off, I looked around. The low, elongated chapel building, the not-small parking lot, and the scattered street trees and lamps.
Except for people squatting and diligently digging with hoes to plant something and a few zombies that came too close and were killed, basic traps were set.
Ropes.
Ropes from banners torn from the streets and red ropes were tied at ankle or neck height.
‘Too bad there are no bear traps.’
We did our best. If lucky, someone might trip and get seriously hurt, and if a zombie wave comes, they’ll fall in a chain reaction.
It won’t stop people, but if people have bad intentions, they can’t be stopped anyway.
Around then, the evangelical elder who had gone outside approached. With a dark expression, he waved at me.
The posters in his hand, made by Na Yaeji, fluttered as he waved.
“Deacon Kwon! You’ve worked hard!”
“Not at all. You, who went outside, worked harder.”
How dangerous the streets are. Several zombies had already approached the farmers. Walking the streets is a life-risking act.
But the administrative elder shook his head.
“No. Deacon Kwon filled the pastor’s void. I doubted if this was necessary, but after seeing you for a few days, I realized you were right.”
“No! Really not. It’s thanks to the elders’ efforts…!”
I widened my eyes and waved my hands vigorously. Did the administrative elder have a grudge against me? Why is he trying to kill me?
The pastor already showed us. Group leaders easily become enemies. They become the primary assassination targets.
‘Why did I leave the elders!’
Having multiple elders as the highest decision-makers, like a council, is to share the danger like meat shields. But making me a person of interest here is not right.
Becoming the second pastor? If someone attacks the Hope Community, wouldn’t they attack me first?
Of course, with multiple leaders, the risk of betrayal or disruption is high, but if that happens, I’ll be the first to act.
The evangelical elder smiled warmly.
“Deacon Kwon, you’re something. If only the security elder had a bit of your personality….”
The atmosphere grew heavy for a moment.
It was because of the wicked security elder who assassinated the pastor for the church’s resources. He even planned a perfect crime by stealing the pastor’s bullets.
Jeondohyeong trembled, his faith shaken, and I clasped my hands in prayer.
“Though the pastor is gone, we remain. Let’s continue the hope he dreamed of.”
“That’s right…. Even though the pastor is gone, we must stay strong for the remaining families.”
The evangelical elder handed me the posters.
The posters Na Yaeji worked hard on had a public service ad feel. No cross, but introducing the Hope Community. Or information on PET bottle farming, using paving blocks as throwing weapons, and planting potatoes or turnips in bare ground.
“We focused on introducing ourselves to the surrounding people rather than evangelizing or gathering people.”
We headed to the chapel, and as we walked, the evangelical elder explained the outside world.
“The world wasn’t like this just a month ago….”
The streets he described were almost apocalyptic.
Dirty streets with trash and filth, shattered first-floor windows and car windows, whether from zombies or criminals. Humans armed with weapons roaming around.
Due to being attacked by lunatics targeting firearms, the police, who move in groups, seem uninterested in maintaining order.
Above all, zombies are really common.
Naturally, the citizens have changed too.
“The world is so dangerous that vigilante groups have sprung up everywhere. There are many merchant associations in the commercial areas, safety guards in every apartment, delivery vigilante groups, archery clubs, and so on. I talked to those people.”
I nodded. This was also in the professor’s materials.
In the early days of the apocalypse, people would form various organizations. And with groups proliferating, conflicts would naturally arise.
The city’s resources are limited, and they’ll fight over those limited resources.
“By the way, can we buy bows from the archery club?”
“I asked too. They said absolutely not.”
What a waste. Silent bows. Arrows that turn into biochemical weapons with just zombie saliva or blood. If the archery club armed themselves with virus-laced arrows and attacked, there’d be no answer.
I suddenly thought of a porcupine.
‘We need to arm ourselves with dangerous weapons to avoid conflict. At least make them think twice about attacking the church base.’
Sprinklers? Engine pumps, water tanks filled with zombie corpses. Wide-area spraying. Wouldn’t that be perfect for threatening anyone who tries to invade?
Or not? Is the immediate threat of death not enough?
Around then, we arrived at the chapel. The evangelical elder and I sat at the front, waiting for the other elders to finish their tasks and return.
I gestured to Jeondohyeong and Na Yaeji to leave.
“Go back and work now.”
“But it’s my day off. Can’t I watch the meeting?”
“Hey, let’s go. If you stay, they’ll make you do other work.”
Jeondohyeong dragged Na Yaeji away. He looked desperate, but it must be my imagination.
The evangelical elder laughed.
“That Na Yaeji? She was depressed after her friend died, but it’s good to see her brighten up.”
“Time heals.”
Then, the elders who had finished their tasks returned one by one.
First, the administrative elder came with documents.
“I’ve finished the headcount, assigned rooms, and made the night watch schedule. I was really harassed by demanding people.”
The community’s organization, transformed like a military barracks.
Next, the sneaky-looking thief elder came in, looking like he was about to die from exhaustion.
“I’ve listed all the stored food. And I bought various things outside.”
When he said ‘various things,’ he looked at me.
As if hinting he got what I requested. Like oil pumps or fingerprint-showing flashlights.
“Why don’t you call your daughter? You even gave her a handgun.”
“I did call her. But she’s already gathered with her college friends. Good thing I gave her the gun.”
“Good thing? You almost got framed as a criminal.”
We chatted like that, then started serious discussions.
“Our stored resources aren’t much. Even if we pay a lot for delivery, there’s a higher chance it won’t come. We need to go out regularly.”
“That delivery vigilante group, what do those young people do?”
“How can we trust that?”
I kept my mouth shut.
If it’s not related to core interests or safety, I have nothing to say. I don’t want to stand out. Presence is a threat.
“There’s also the issue of washing. Even if we make a temporary shower in the bathroom, it’s…”
“Can’t we turn a whole floor’s bathroom into a shower room?”
Various discussions went on, and the evangelical elder let out a long sigh.
“Above all, there’s a big problem. People’s morale isn’t that high.”
“…The pastor passed away like that.”
Even the grandmother stepped down from her elder position and disappeared somewhere.
People were that weak-hearted. To the point of transforming the church into a community without much resistance. They stayed only because they had nowhere to go or due to minor connections.
There was no strong will.
I closed my eyes and thought of the pastor. An excellent leader, a master of performance. Sadly, the pastor is no longer here, and I can only pray for hope.
People with low morale, shaken faith, and weak bonds.
To lift them up and unite them, hope.
‘For example, a zombie wave?’
If we all unite to fend off a zombie horde, it would be good for mental health. Why, to unite internally, they say to create an external enemy.