Sempiternal: •Broken• || Book 2#

32. Unluckiest man

Namjoon takes from the backpacks a pair of knives and a handgun. He puts on his shoes and walks down the stairs of the tall building. He thinks he's leaving without anyone noticing, but Hoseok notices his little nighttime escapade.

The group leader muses that of the two days they've been stuck here, too many patrols have passed. They are overkill. It is highly unlikely that they are all from the same place and he needs to know whether to panic or not. Give the benefit of the doubt to whoever is there. There can't be that many cruel people scattered around.

Maybe some are a small group looking for more members to make themselves strong. The possibility is there.

Namjoon locks the front door as it was and walks slowly down the snowy street, following the route he saw one of the cars follow earlier. There are many infected around, however, they are accumulated and congregated in tiny spaces to conserve heat.

"Gross." he mutters under his breath, passing one frozen and destroyed on the ground.

Namjoon walks for forty minutes until finally reaching a destination. It is a small gambling center. The ones where people used to lose money betting on which horse goes the fastest. He carefully opens the entrance and taps gently before stepping all the way through. There are no strange or infected noises.

He keeps the knife in his hand, his pulse trembling and heart increasingly agitated by the dull, cold atmosphere. He notices some sleeping bags on the floor. Old from the amount of dust covering them. He walks to the back room where there is a small trail, opening the door he lets out a sharp intake of breath, with a huge cloud of mist coming out between his lips.

There is no one alive here. Everyone is lying on the floor with a gunshot to the head or a knife stuck in their forehead. On the walls a long message written in spray paint reads.

"NO ONE IS GOING TO SAVE US."

It gives Namjoon chills that, from recent events, it seems to be reality. Turns on the flashlight so he can walk among the bodies. They have been here a very long time, some look dried out and others have maggots eating their flesh. Namjoon wrinkles his face with the urge to vomit and continues inside.

He finds a space full of maps, collected messages, radio channels and apparent information.

"In the north of the country, in the border cities there is a lot of risk. Possibly North Korea also fell."

"Naturally cold regions = better chance of survival."

"The military at Incheon airport demarcated territory. This area belongs to Gimpo. Apparently it hasn't fallen yet."

"Fifty-six groups in the vicinity. All are hiding from the military and or planning how to take the airport from them."

"Chuncheon = Safe. Unstoppable snow since before the disaster, climate change favorable for self-survival."

Namjoon takes everything, puts it in a backpack and sets it on the ground to continue checking. He could take it when he leaves here. The idea runs through his head a lot. If they go to a cold region, they will be in better conditions than here, which tends to get hot in summer weather. It should be coming up if you are not misplaced of the dates.

Get more rooms with people who have committed suicide and very little to take in a useful way. Would love for them to have a communicator. Trying to make contact and verify if Jimin is alive. Reassure everyone with that news.

Namjoon stops abruptly at a muffled sound and turns off the flashlight. Furrowing his eyebrows and looking inside, he manages to notice that there is a man in a corner, eating from a can; a lone lantern light on. Namjoon steps back, determined to pretend he wasn't here to initiate.