Markjin: The Walking Dead

Run In

Jinyoung couldn't recall the last time he'd eaten a well cooked, balanced meal; yet here he was devouring chicken burgers, potatoes and peas. Mark, whether he was friend or foe Jinyoung was still undecided, sat across from him taking small bites of his own food. Jinyoung watched him somewhat fascinated and burning with questions. Mark put down his plate, only half of its contents consumed.

"Let's go," he said standing and pulling on a black baseball jacket.

"Where?" Jinyoung asked cautiously.

"You'll see. Come on." Jinyoung eyed Mark's unfinished food.

"Aren't you going to eat that?" Mark glanced down at his plate and then at Jinyoung's ravenous expression. He sighed.

"You have it. But hurry up. We leave in five." Jinyoung fell upon the plate, quickly demolishing what was left.

Five minutes later, the two left the police station. Jinyoung took in his surroundings, quickly imprinting it into his memory. This was his first time seeing the outside of the station on account that when he had first arrived he was passed out and bleeding to death. Without thinking, he touched his side and then instantly regretted it as he winced at the sting. He wondered just what Mark had planned for him. Obviously the man must know that Jinyoung wouldn't be able to partake in strenuous activity or his wound would open up again. So where were they going?

At first, Mark had kept Jinyoung locked in the cell and brought him food and water twice a day. But seeing that Jinyoung really was as harmless as he claimed to be, Mark had trusted him enough so that on the third day he left the door unbolted. As far as Jinyoung knew, Mark spent his day either on a run, tidying or writing in a small black notebook. They hadn't really talked. Mark kept to himself, only inquiring as to how Jinyoung's injury was. And whereas Jinyoung was incredibly intrigued as to Mark's background, how he came to be here, had he always been on his own etc, Mark couldn't seem to care less about Jinyoung's. Today was the fifth day. Jinyoung had been sitting on his bed anxiously wondering whether his group were alive and well when he was taken by surprise at Mark's offer. He'd been sceptical at first but he also saw that it would provide a perfect distraction. In the end, he had agreed to come on a run with Mark because, although dangerous, a mixture of boredom and curiosity had gotten the better of him.

Mark kept his knife gripped in his hand as he moved down the street. Shops either with the metal shutters pulled down or with smashed windows lined the streets. Rubbish blew across the road, like tumbleweed in an old Western film. Jinyoung followed, attempting to make minimal amount of noise as Mark did but painfully aware of the sound when he accidently kicked a can or when he slipped on a lose sheet of newspaper. Glancing down he saw the headline 'Is This The End?' had been torn in half by his shoe.

"Where are we going?" Jinyoung whispered determined for an answer. But, as he expected, his question was ignored. Jinyoung scowled at Mark's back. They came to a stop outside what must've been a supermarket. The glass of the automatic door lay in shattered pieces on the pavement. Jinyoung followed Mark through the space carefully avoiding the shards of glass poking from the door's frame. His heart was racing. He'd never been out in a place that was probably crawling with biters without at least four others with him. He wondered how Mark had survived this long alone.

Many of the shop's metal shelves had been pushed over. Litter covered the floor. From somewhere there came the reek of rotting vegetation. Luckily, it seemed they were heading in the opposite direction from the fruit and vegetable section. Mark halted in front of a large shelf that had fallen over and now blocked an entranceway sealed by a plain, white double door.

"Help me with this," Mark told him moving to one end of the shelf. Jinyoung didn't move. "Come on," Mark urged.

"Why? What are we doing here?"