I find it imperative to probe deeper into her survival story. "Before you go to search for your father, you need to explain how you've managed to survive out here on your own," I demand, ensuring my voice conveys the seriousness of my inquiry. "It's essential for us to understand the full extent of your self-sufficiency."
Meeting my gaze, Hye-jin pauses momentarily, recognising the necessity of compliance. "My name is Hye-jin," she begins again, her smile faint but her spirit undeterred. "I used to be a doctor of Korean medicine, educated and trained in Seoul."
The revelation that she possesses medical training immediately captures our attention. "You're a trained doctor?" I interject, my curiosity piqued alongside my respect.
"Yes," she confirms with a nod. "As the situation in urban areas worsened, I chose to retreat here, to this ancestral cabin nestled within the mountains. It appeared to be the safest refuge, especially crucial for my father's well-being."
She points to a photo on the wall, an image that encapsulates a precious moment shared with her father. "After he was diagnosed with dementia, I assumed full responsibility for his care," she explains.
Joon-ho, intrigued, follows up. "So, you've been isolated here since the pandemic's onset?"
"Exactly," Hye-jin affirms. "Upon learning of the outbreak, I opted for isolation. We've not ventured back to civilisation since. The forest around us provides our sustenance and medicinal needs. My background in herbal medicine allows me to identify and utilise various plants for our benefit."
Her adeptness in utilising natural resources, particularly her expertise in Korean medicine, offers a logical explanation for the garden and the diverse flora surrounding the cabin, underscoring her invaluable skills in such dire times.
She then turns her gaze outward, her voice laced with a deeper emotion. "My father, he's always been confined to the cabin, unable to venture out. But this time, he managed to elude my watch. I've exhausted all nearby possibilities before daring to approach the town, hoping he might have gravitated towards familiar locations."
The depth of her sorrow is unmistakable, resonating with the profound bond she shares with her father. Her dedication and her ordeal resonate deeply, casting her not just as a survivor, but as a devoted daughter, battling against overwhelming odds to reunite with her beloved parent.
***
Once outside the cabin, Joon-ho and I step a short distance away, ensuring privacy for our conversation. The morning sun filters through the trees, casting dappled shadows on the ground as we contemplate the revelation of Hye-jin's existence and skills.
"She could be a real asset to us," I say thoughtfully, leaning against a tree. "Her medical training and knowledge of plants could be invaluable. And she has fresh water and chickens, which means a sustainable food source."
Joon-ho nods in agreement, his gaze fixed on the cabin. "She's managed to survive out here, practically on her own. That's not something everyone can do. It shows she's resourceful and adaptable – essential qualities for survival in this world."
I ponder for a moment, considering the implications. "We've been cautious about bringing in new people. But Hye-jin... she seems different. She's managed to live in relative safety and has skills that could significantly benefit our group."
Joon-ho looks at me, his expression serious. "It's a big decision. Bringing someone new into our group, our lives... it changes things. But I think it's worth the risk in this case."
I take a deep breath, weighing the risks and benefits. "I agree. Her skills could make a real difference for us, and it sounds like she could use the support, especially now that she's alone."
We turn back to look at the cabin, a small haven in the midst of the wilderness. "Let's invite her to join us," I finally say. "We'll need to set some ground rules, make sure she understands how we operate. But I think this could be a good thing for all of us."
Joon-ho nods, a sense of resolve in his eyes. "Let's do it. We'll extend the invitation and see how she feels about joining us."
Back inside the cabin, Hye-jin listens attentively as I begin to explain our situation. The warm light of the cabin creates a comforting atmosphere, a stark contrast to the seriousness of our conversation.
"Hye-jin, we've been impressed by what you've managed to achieve here," I start, my tone earnest and sincere. "Your medical skills and knowledge of plants are incredible assets in a world like this. Not to mention your ability to live sustainably."
She nods, her expression curious about where this is leading.
"We have a shelter of our own," I continue. "It's well-stocked with supplies, enough to last us at least three years, and we have a range of weapons for defence. We've worked hard to make it a secure and sustainable place to live."
Joon-ho chimes in, his voice reinforcing the seriousness of our proposal. "But we're always looking to improve our chances of survival. What you've built here, your skills and knowledge, could be a significant benefit to our group."
Hye-jin's eyes widen slightly, a mix of surprise and interest evident on her face.
"What we're proposing," I say, "is a partnership of sorts. We want to invite you to join us. In exchange, we'd like you to share your medical knowledge and skills. The way you've managed to live off the land here is something we can all benefit from."
I pause, giving her a moment to absorb the information. "Of course, you wouldn't just be contributing your skills. You'd be a full member of our group, with access to all our resources and protection. We believe that together, we stand a better chance of surviving in this world."
Hye-jin sits in silence for a moment, contemplating our offer. The thought of leaving the cabin, her safe haven and connection to her father, seems to weigh on her. Yet, the opportunity to join a group, to not be alone in this daunting world, is clearly appealing.
In the quiet ambiance of the cabin, Hye-jin's voice is tinged with a resolve that echoes her deep concern. "I appreciate your offer, truly. But I can't think about anything else until I find my father. I must continue searching for him."
I exchange a glance with Joon-ho, knowing the time has come to reveal the painful truth. Taking a deep breath, I gently break the news to her. "Hye-jin, about your father... we found him."
Her eyes widen, a mix of hope and fear flashing across her face. "You did? Where is he? Is he okay?"
I hesitate, choosing my words carefully. "We found him a few hours before we met you in front of our shelter. He... he had already passed away. It seemed like he died of natural causes, possibly the cold. He was peaceful, but..."
"But?" she urges, her voice trembling.
"We had to... ensure he wouldn't turn. It's the reality of this world now. We had to make sure he wouldn't become one of the infected. We did it respectfully, to preserve his dignity," I explain, my voice heavy with the weight of our actions.
Hye-jin's face crumples, a wave of grief washing over her. Tears well up in her eyes, yet there is also a hint of disbelief. "I need to see for myself. I need to know it's true."
"We understand," Joon-ho says softly. "We can take you to where we... where we laid him to rest."
Nodding silently, Hye-jin gathers herself, wiping away her tears. Her determination to see her father, to have that closure, is clear.