Cw : Violent act, blood
They arrived just as the sun was setting, parking the car near an old building before stepping out. Ahead of them lay a deserted city, shrouded in darkness with no lights visible. Sorn checked his bag and felt a wave of relief when he confirmed he hadn't forgotten to bring a flashlight.
Zombies had a keen sense of smell for humans, and just as they approached the entrance of the neighborhood they were about to enter, several zombies sprinted toward them. Reflexively, Sorn pulled the trigger and shot several zombies in the head, causing them to collapse helplessly to the ground.
Both Matthew and Ralf stared in amazement, their mouths agape, as Sorn's actions unfolded so quickly that they felt they would miss it if they blinked.
"The zombies were still quite far away," Matthew clapped a few times and then gave Sorn a thumbs-up. "I've seen you in action from a distance before, but witnessing it up close really gives me goosebumps."
Sorn nodded and put his pistol away. Hearing such praise was nothing new, he had often received compliments about his shooting skills during his time in the official military organization. However, it seemed that the one blushing from the praise wasn't Sorn—Ralf crossed his arms over his chest with an expression of a proud parent and nodded firmly.
"See? I chose the right person to be a core member, huh, Matthew? If I remember correctly, you always protested whenever I suggested Sorn join us."
"It's just…" Matthew's face flushed with embarrassment, "You know how it feels to be turned down repeatedly, it really sucks."
"Sorry, I turned you down for certain reasons."
Matthew shook his head, clearly not wanting to hear apologies from someone who had just casually taken down a horde of zombies with ease.
"It looks like this mission will go faster than usual. I'm pumped! Sorn, I'll go ahead to check the right side of the neighborhood, you and Ralf take the left."
"Are you going alone? Wouldn't it be better to do it together?"
"No sweat, I've done this plenty of times with Dean and Carl. You have your communication device, right? Let me test it…" Matthew pulled out his device and pressed Sorn's channel, which he had apparently already added. "Sorn, can you hear me?"
The device in Sorn's hand echoed Matthew's voice after he clicked 'accept'. He leaned in closer to the device and responded in a hushed tone, "I'm here."
"Haha, what was that Sorn—"
"Enough, go now, Matt."
Ralf waved his hand, signaling Matthew to leave quickly before stepping closer to Sorn. Matthew shot him a knowing glance, huffed wearily, and then sprinted off in the direction he intended to go.
This left Sorn and Ralf standing alone in the middle of the desolate area.
"What are we looking for here? In a dead neighborhood with only empty buildings? There's no way there are any food supplies here, right?"
Sorn followed Ralf, who walked casually with his hands tucked into his pockets. Ralf glanced back at Sorn, encouraging him to walk right beside him.
"We're looking for a sinkhole. Besides, you can ask me anything you want to know since it's just the two of us here."
Looking for a sinkhole? Weren't all sinkholes already sealed off by the government? And even if they found one in this neighborhood, wouldn't it be illegal to reopen it? The gas might have dissipated, and some sinkholes no longer emitted gas, but it was still better to keep any source of gas tightly sealed.
"If we find one, what will you do?"
"That—ah..."
A roar echoed as a horde of zombies rushed toward them, causing Sorn to reflexively draw his weapon and shoot them one by one, each bullet hitting its target squarely in the head. Once they lay lifeless on the ground, blood splattered across the earth.
Ralf let out a disappointed sigh, prompting Sorn to raise an eyebrow in confusion at him.
"I know you're great at marksmanship, but wouldn't it be better to conserve your ammo, Sorn Francis April?"
"Sorry."
"What?!" Ralf stepped closer, his expression incredulous as if Sorn had just said something outrageous. His eyes widened dramatically. "Why are you apologizing? I didn't say that to make you say sorry!"
"Huh, so? You said to conserve ammo, so I apologized for using it carelessly since you and your team work hard to supplement the weapons supply. But did you see how fast those zombies were running? It wouldn't be easy to kill them up close. Zombies like that usually have stronger physiques than ordinary humans."
"No, Sorn, that's not what I meant!"
"For fuck's sake, what do you want me to do?!"
"Let me handle the zombies if they come, but if you think there's a zombie that poses a threat to your life, shoot! I won't stop you! I mean, just stay quiet and let me protect you."
"..... You." Grimacing, Sorn muttered with narrowed eyes, "You do realize I'm an adult, right? I've been in the military, so... protect me? Do you think I can't protect myself—"
"Sssh... Stop right here!"
"??????"
Sorn didn't realize that zombies were charging from behind him. Ralf quickly rushed forward, shoving Sorn aside, causing him to stumble for a moment.
Regaining his balance, Sorn's eyes widened at the scene unfolding right in front of him. His hands, which were instinctively gripping his pistol, began to tremble.
The eccentric man, with his glowing blue eyes, punched the zombie's head with his bare hands. What shocked Sorn wasn't the act of the man attacking the zombie, but the effect it had on the creature. With just a few powerful punches, the zombie's head had already been deformed—its skull was dented, the zombie's eyes had popped out due to the impact, and teeth were scattered across the pavement. Ralf pulled the creature's head up without any hesitation, and Sorn—though accustomed to witnessing violence firsthand—felt nauseous and closed his eyes at the sight. His entire body shuddered as he felt his palms grow cold.
That guy wasn't a normal human. There was no way a regular human could do something like that.
A punch with a bare fist could not possibly make a skull appear as if it were plastic toy being struck by a blunt object.
"Sorn!"
When his name was called out loudly, Sorn slowly opened his eyes to see several piles of zombies that had fallen and were no longer moving on the asphalt. Ralf jogged over to him, blood smeared on his hands and a few splatters decorating his face, grinning widely.
"Did you see? I've become strong."
Sorn nodded hesitantly. The man's eyes were no longer glowing blue— they had reverted to a dark blue, almost black, with a hint of purple.
"..... Are you not human?"
The blunt question made Ralf pause for a moment, then he chuckled softly while pulling a towel from his bag. He used it to wipe the blood off his face and hands.
"I don't even know how to answer that question."
"If you're not human, then you're a superhuman."
"Superhuman? Not a monster?"
"Monster?"
"I'm immune to zombies, and even after being bitten by them multiple times, I'm still alive. But with the changes in my body, shouldn't I also be considered a zombie? The difference is that I still have my consciousness."
"...."
"Aren't you afraid of me?"
Sorn blinked, taking in the man from his feet to the top of his head, a faint smile appearing on his lips. Jet-black hair, pale skin, dark blue eyes, and a height that towered over him, making it a bit cumbersome to lift his chin just to meet the man's gaze— since he wore a baggy t-shirt, Sorn couldn't quite gauge the man's muscles, but the broadness of his shoulders alone made it clear that he was muscular.
"Afraid?" Sorn rubbed his chin. "More than being afraid, I feel frustrated."
"Frustrated?"
"Frustrated because if you decide to kill me, it would be difficult for me to fight back."
"Haha." Ralf laughed loudly, wiping the slight blood stains from the corners of his eyes. "Do I look like someone who wants to kill you?"
"Humans are unpredictable."
"Hmm, you are right, April." Ralf quickly raised his hand to cover his mouth, his eyes flickering as if he had just said something inappropriate, then he quickly lowered his hand and opened his mouth again. "I mean, Sorn Francis April."
"You don't always have to call me by my full name, silly."
Sorn raised an eyebrow, lips faintly forming a grin as Ralf appeared embarrassed and walked ahead of him. Even though Ralf said to rely on him, Sorn's sharp eyes spotted zombies in the distance, and he instinctively shot at them. Ralf clicked his tongue in disapproval, but Sorn's face contorted in confusion at why the man chose such a complicated way of dealing with zombies with his bare hands. It was more exhausting—even if he was physically strong, it was still a hassle to clean the bloodstains, and seeing blood splattered on the man's clothes made Sorn wrinkle his nose.
The zombies in this area were extremely dangerous. It was no wonder there was a warning billboard on the street indicating that this area was off-limits, even for soldiers, who usually received orders before entering areas marked with a black sign.
When humans become infected with the zombie virus—often as a result of being consumed by zombies—they undergo transformations that strip away their humanity. Although their bodies regenerate, their consciousness diminishes. Consequently, these zombies frequently possess physical abilities that surpass those they had in life. For instance, if a zombie loses a hand, it can regenerate; however, their heads and necks remain critical weak points.
In this area, the zombies were classified as intelligent, demonstrating the ability to use weapons effectively. Sorn had already encountered several of these zombies, each armed with knives or blunt objects, and they moved with an unnaturally swift agility.