Plague 2023 (Plague 2022 Season 2)

Episode 16

SHADOWS IN THE DAWN

Sae Joon Hyun, Eunhye, and Yuri woke up an hour later, disoriented and groggy. They glanced around, their eyes widening as they realized they were still surrounded by the sleeping zombies. The horde lay scattered across the room, their grotesque forms eerily still, as if they had never attacked in the first place.

Carefully, Sae Joon Hyun nudged Eunhye and Yuri, signaling for them to move quietly. The trio slowly rose to their feet, their movements deliberate and cautious. Their hearts pounded in their chests, a mix of fear and disgust tightening their throats.

The room was dimly lit, casting long shadows over the motionless zombies. The air was thick with the stench of decay, making it hard to breathe without gagging. Each step they took seemed to echo in the oppressive silence, amplifying their anxiety.

Eunhye covered her mouth with her hand, trying to stifle the rising bile. Yuri's face was pale, her eyes darting around nervously as she clung to Sae Joon Hyun's arm. They had faced zombies countless times before, but the sheer proximity to the creatures now, in such a vulnerable state, made their skin crawl.

As they moved away from the fallen horde, the trio kept their senses alert, listening for any sign of the zombies stirring. The room felt like a tomb, the silence oppressive and heavy. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, they reached the door. Sae Joon Hyun cautiously opened it, peering outside to ensure the coast was clear.

With a final glance at the room, they slipped out, closing the door behind them as quietly as possible. Safe, for the moment, they took a deep breath, their bodies trembling from the adrenaline and fear. They knew they couldn't rest yet, but at least they were out of that horrific room, away from the sleeping horrors that had nearly claimed their lives.

***

In another part of Seoul, far from the eerie stillness of Sae Joon Hyun and his friends, six shadows moved with deadly precision across a grand, dilapidated mansion. Their silhouettes, barely discernible in the faint pre-dawn light, carried an air of menace. Each figure was armed: some wielded long, sturdy poles, while others gripped the cold, unforgiving steel of guns. They moved in perfect harmony, a silent dance of warriors prepared for battle.

A soft, almost imperceptible sound broke the quiet, like the rustle of a breeze through old curtains. It was the signal. In an instant, the silence shattered as the six shadows flung open the massive, creaking doors of the mansion. The air was filled with a cacophony of gunfire, a relentless barrage that drowned out the guttural roars of the zombies outside. The undead, driven by insatiable hunger, had been pounding at the doors, their eyes wild and their mouths agape, but they were no match for the onslaught.

The six figures stood firm, their resolve unyielding. They were not here to survive—they were here to win. The zombies fell in droves, their grotesque bodies crumpling to the ground, motionless. Some, still clinging to the last vestiges of their unnatural existence, attempted to crawl toward the group, but their efforts were futile. The battle was over almost as quickly as it had begun.

One of the figures, standing in the threshold, stepped forward as the first rays of sunlight broke over the horizon. The golden light washed over them, hiding their features in sharp relief, casting them as a mere silhouette against the brilliance of the dawn. Their voice, calm and resolute, cut through the lingering tension. "Let's go out today. We need to look for food."

One female of the group, her face also obscured by the glaring sunlight, nodded in agreement. "Yeah. The fridge was overflowing when we first came here," she replied, her tone carrying a hint of nostalgia for the time when they had first found refuge in the mansion, now reduced to just another battlefield.

With the battle behind them, the six retreated into the shadowy confines of the parking garage. The tension in the air remained, but now it was focused, purposeful. They moved with a practiced ease, each member of the group knowing exactly what to do. Three sleek motorbikes waited in the gloom, their polished surfaces gleaming faintly in the dim light.

They mounted the bikes with the same precision that had guided their every move. One bike held a pair, their bodies instinctively adjusting to accommodate each other, while the other four riders took their positions alone. The leader, his eyes hidden behind the dark visor of his helmet, turned the ignition key. The engine roared to life, a deep, throaty sound that reverberated through the garage. A thick cloud of smoke billowed from the exhaust pipe, curling into the air like a ghostly apparition.

The man twisted the throttle twice, the bike vibrating with raw power beneath him. Then, with a final glance at the others, he lifted his feet off the ground, settling them on the bike’s footrests. The machine surged forward, its tires screeching against the concrete as it shot out of the garage and into the light of the new day. The other four bikes followed close behind, their riders focused and determined.

As the bikers roared out of the garage and into the light, the full extent of their appearance became clear. Clad in sleek, all-black biker suits, they were a striking sight against the backdrop of the ruined city. The suits hugged their forms, built for both protection and agility, the material a durable blend that could withstand more than just the elements. Over their suits, they wore tactical vests, bristling with utility pouches and armor plates, designed to protect vital organs from any unforeseen dangers. High, reinforced boots covered their feet, laced tightly and built to provide stability and grip on any terrain.

Each biker was armed to the teeth. Their guns hung securely behind them, strapped across their backs within easy reach, while long, sturdy poles dangled from their belts, ready to be drawn at a moment's notice. The combination of gear and weapons gave them an almost otherworldly aura—part warrior, part survivor. Whether their ensemble was designed purely for protection or for intimidation, it certainly added to their formidable presence. It was clear they intended to both stay safe from the zombies' bites and look fearsome while doing so.

As they sped through the desolate streets of Seoul, the roar of their engines echoed off the crumbling buildings, a sound that both announced their presence and dared anything to stand in their way. The wind whipped around them, a fierce gust that sent stray debris flying in all directions. The speed at which they moved was enough to topple the slower, more unsteady zombies, sending the creatures sprawling to the ground with little effort. Others were pushed back, struggling to maintain their footing against the sheer force of the wind left in the bikers’ wake. The snarling undead could do little more than flail uselessly as the riders shot past, their bodies barely registering the threats that had once been so terrifying.

Through the tinted visors of their helmets, the riders surveyed their surroundings with sharp, focused eyes. They navigated the streets with a practiced ease, weaving between obstacles with a grace that belied the danger all around them. Their formation was tight, purposeful, each rider instinctively knowing where the others were without needing to look.

Then, the female rider’s voice crackled over the comms, her tone steady and clear despite the roar of the engines. "That's the convenience store..." she announced, her eyes locking onto the small building up ahead. The store, once a bustling hub of everyday life, now stood silent and abandoned, its windows cracked and its doors closed, but somehow still intact—a beacon of hope in a city devoid of life.

The male rider next to her nodded, his gaze fixed on the building. He didn’t need to look at her to acknowledge her words. With a dry laugh, he responded, "Welcome, I guess," his voice carrying a hint of humor that masked the grim reality of their situation.

With a final burst of speed, they approached the convenience store. The bikes slid to a stop in unison, tires screeching against the asphalt as they left dark skid marks on the ground. The sound echoed through the empty street, a sharp, jarring noise that momentarily drowned out the moans of the distant zombies. They came to rest just in front of the store's closed doors, the engines rumbling down into a low growl before cutting off entirely.