#449: This is where it splits in half honey, love or death (2/6)

[lordchen]

There's a strong smell of lavender piercing the darkness, and Jongdae's conscience stirrs awake, attracted by the odd familiarity coming with the scent. It's still pitched black around him, black on his eyelids and in his mind, but he knows that, no matter how long he's been unconscious, that same smell has been around him. Just like he knows that the feminine voice, soft and light, now humming so close to him has lulled him for the past hours—days? For the first time since Jongdae passed out though, both the smell and the voice get to him, and panic starts swelling in his chest.

He tries to control his breathing, so that the woman near him doesn't notice that he's awake, and forces his eyeballs to remain motionless. The slightest flicker on his eyelids could be deadly. She could be cleaning under her nails with a dangerously sharpened knife right now, and Jongdae's carotid is too close to her for him to take any risk. His conscience is still swimming under water, struggling to reach the surface, but one by one, his senses all come back to him.

The woman shifts next to him, her voice suddenly closer, and the following second, Jongdae can feel her breath fanning his face. She's still singing, obviously not daring to let her voice follow the flights of lyricism, but she still hits some of the notes pretty well. So well, actually, that Jongdae can make out the song, a pop song he remembers hearing on some random TV shows, promoted by a lively girl group. The smell of lavender is stronger, until it gets almost overwhelming when a delicate hand lightly pats Jongdae's neck, leaving a moist patch behind. She's putting some lavender oil on me, Jongdae realises, dumbfounded.

“Hey Yeri,” says a very different voice, a man's voice. “Fancy some dried apricots?”

Jongdae tenses, the slender fingers still against his neck, and he realises his mistake too late. He relaxes, his heart beating erratically in his chest.

“Oh,” the woman says. “Yeah, why not? Thank you, oppa.”

Jongdae catches some more ruffling next to him, but he doesn't really pay attention, as it all crashes down on him. The name, Yeri, and the mark of respect—even the song takes on its full meaning now as it rings through Jongdae's mind as that one stupid song Jongin used to hum from time to time.

Too caught up in the cold realisation, he doesn't feel the woman scooting closer again until it's too late.

“You can open your eyes now,” she says straight into Jondgae's ear. “We're all alone.”

Jongdae's eyes shoot open wide, his heart jumping into his throat, and the first thing he sees is the woman's face hovering over him. Girl would actually be a more fitting term, Jongdae immediately realises as she flashes him a dimpled smile. He dimly remembers Jongin saying that Yeri, his Yeri, was only seventeen years old. Jongdae doesn't doubt that this Yeri is Jongin's Yeri.

“I'm sorry,” she says with a warm smile. “I didn't want to scare you, but I felt you tense when Taehyung oppa was talking, so I figured you might like it better if it was just the two of us.” She pauses, just enough to breath in, and immediately continues. “I'm Yeri, and I took care of you while you were unconscious. We found you in a bush near a house, and you're lucky we did, because you were bleeding—Oh but just a little, don't worry! We use lavender oil for tiny wounds, we found out a couple of months ago that, oddly enough, they couldn't smell the blood over the lavender. Funny, right? You wouldn't believe how we found out though. You see, I've put on two drops of lavender oil for so long even after the Misty Days, just there” she points at her earlobe. “--behind my ear, and well, that day we--”

“Please shut up,” Jongdae groans.

Yeri watches him, far from looking offended, her smile still perched on her face. She's on her knees next to him, her delicate hands spread on her naked thighs. She's wearing a dress, Jongdae notices, a little surprised, and a pair of short leggings to make up for the short skirt. Her hair is long, tangled and dry, but still cascading over her shoulders with a certain grace, and even the dirt on her face isn't enough to cover how pretty and young she is.

Jongdae looks away, bile rising up in his oesophagus. They're inside a plain house, all the shutters closed and the lack of light sliding through the cracks tells Jongdae it's dark outside. The only light in the almost empty room comes from a lantern placed directly on the floor, its glow of a cold pale blue, just like those mosquito repellent lanterns Jongdae's family used to put in the garden during summer nights. Yeri didn't lie, they're all alone in the room, but one quick look to his belt and Jongdae understands that she didn't take any risk. His machete is gone.

“Ah yes,” Yeri grimaces, following Jongdae's eyes. “Seulgi took your weapon, just in case. She'll give it back, don't worry.”

Jongdae sits up, and a peak of pain makes him groan. He looks down to find his arm immobilized by what looks like an old shirt tied up around his neck. He glances at Yeri.

“How long have I been out?” he asks.

“One day and a half.” She looks so pleased to know the answer. “Like I said, we found you in that bush when we arrived in the city. We've been waiting for you to wake up ever since.”

Jongdae slowly nods, looking down at his wounded arm. He wiggles his fingers, and winces at the light pain echoing through his bones. It's not as strong as it was in the first place though, and it's good news. His shoulder was probably dislocated and now that it's been put back in joint, it's already a little bit better. It still makes him the easiest prey for the Infected though.

“Here,” Yeri says, handing him a small basket full of dried apricots. “Have some fruits. It's all we have for now, because we lost our food after an attack a week ago. But Seulgi, Kyungsoo and Junmyeon have left food hunting a few hours ago. There's a warehouse on the other side of the city, so they'll have plenty of food when they'll be back.”

“No,” Jongdae tenses. “That warehouse.. I was there, we—I got attacked there.”

Yeri freezes.

“You sure?” she asks hesitantly. “When we first came here a few weeks ago, it was a safe place...”

“Yeah,” Jongdae snaps back. “Was.”

He glares at her, shifting so he can get back on his feet, but Yeri immediately comes back from the look of pure fear on her face to stop him, her hands now stronger on Jongdae's sane shoulder.

“What do you think you're doing?” she asks him, accusing. “I'm not letting you go, you're too weak. Eat your fruits.”

“But--”

“Now,” she cuts him, her voice commanding.

In the span of a few seconds, she aged of a few years, and her dark eyes, warm and smiling the second before, are now cutting and heavy on Jongdae. He immediately shoves an apricot in his mouth, frowning. Yeri narrows her eyes at him as Jongdae chews the dried fruit, her frown only disappearing when he swallows it.

“Great,” Yeri says. “Now you wait here. And you eat.”

She gets back on her feet and walks out of the room, leaving Jongdae behind with his basket of apricots on his knees. He tilts his head on the side to try and glances through the door she left wide open, but aside from her footsteps getting distant, he doesn't see nor hear anything. He does catches sight of the front door though, and the furniture gathered against it to block it. It's a clever move, but one that can be achieved only when there are several pair of arms to lift the couches and tables. Jongdae looks around again, mindlessly munching on another apricot, and notices the absence of other beddings in the room, which means that Yeri's friends aren't stupid enough to sleep next to him when they don't know him.

Jongdae licks his lips, eye scanning the room for a bottle of water, but he resolves to eat another apricot when he finds none. From what Yeri has told him, the warehouse is at the opposite side of the city, which means that Jongin and Jongdae had absolutely zero chance of meeting Yeri's group where they were waiting. They would have made it eventually though, in the warehouse or in the city. They were so close...

His stomach giving a worrying jump, Jongdae puts the basket away, his hunger vanished.

“What did I say about eating?”

Jongdae looks up, and his eyes settle on Yeri standing on the threshold of the room with now three of her friends by her side. There's only one boy, who looks barely older than Yeri, and Jongdae identifies him as Taehyung right away. His long bangs held back by a grey beanie leave plenty of room on his forehead for his thick eyebrows, now furrowed at Jongdae, more intrigued than suspicious though. The smaller of the two remaining girls is partly hidden behind Yeri, but Jongdae still makes out a round face and a flat nose. He doesn't catch more details though, because his gaze is immediately drawn to the last girl, who is now stepping up with fierce and questioning eyes.

“Tell me exactly what happened in the warehouse,” she asks him with autority.

She's obviously the one in charge while the others are gone, and she makes sure Jongdae understands it. But under the layer of power she's wearing, Jongdae easily spots concern for her friends, and most importantly, the ability of actually do something about it, which isn't Yeri's speciality, obviously.

“I wanted to used it as a shelter for the day,” Jongdae says, purposely making it sound like he was alone. “But I got attacked by a group of Infected inside. I reckon there must be a nest not far.”

The girl's eyes narrow at him as she gauges him, and Jongdae holds her gaze. She looks smaller than him, but he wouldn't take her as weak anyway. There's something dangerous about her, and not only because she's sporting two holsters, one hanging low on her small waist for her gun, and the other wrapped around her thigh for a hunting knife. She looks like she wouldn't hesitate to use either of her weapons, and without his own machete, Jongdae can't do anything. He knows how to look submissive though, so he looks down, blinking two or three times, and emphasizes his gesture by biting his inner cheek.

“Soojung...?” asks the younger girl, her fingers clenched around her leader's arm. “What if they stumbled upon the Infected...?”

Jongdae glances through his bangs, and catches the leader—Soojung, bitting on her lower lip.

“I'm going to find them,” she says suddenly. The smaller girl's grip tightens on her arm, and Soojung softly strokes her hair. “Don't worry, I'll come back.”

She glances at Jongdae. “How many were they?”

“Eight.”

She nods, pulling the younger girl away and slowly pushing her into Yeri's arms.

“If I find them in time, it'll be four against eight. It's doable,” she whispers, more for herself than for the others, then blinks and her gaze focuses on Jongdae again before she turns towards Taehyung and Yeri.

“Watch him. I'll be back in no time.”

Yeri nods, glancing at Jongdae, and Soojung sighs. She checks her weapons while Taehyung walks to the window and opens the shutters. Soojung follows suit, tying her hair in a messy bun on the top of her head. She was probably blonde a year ago, but the golden highlights have now died down to a sickly yellowish colour, and the twelve centimeters or so that her hair gained over the past month are pitched black. The two opposite colors look weird, clashing, when Soojung's long hair cascades on her back, but it's almost pretty when it's tied up. The two-colored strand falling on the side of her face crack the innocence her face conveys when it's not framed by her hair. Jongdae can't help but think that she looks like a modern witch, kind of.

Soojung bestrides the window, and looks at them again, her hands on the ledge for balance and one of her legs dangling outside.

“You're in charge,” she tells Taehyung, who promptly nods. “See you later,” she adds with a light wink before jumping on the other side.

She doesn't make a sound when she lands, and Jongdae catches sight of her running across the lawn, feline and totally silent, just before Taehyung closes the shutters. The girl, still clinging to Yeri, lets out a shaky sob, and Taehyng takes her into what looks like a warm embrace. He pats the back of her head, reassuring.

“Don't worry Suhyunie, they'll all come back.”

Jongdae's eyes probably linger for a second too long on Taehyung and the little girl -Suhyun- because Yeri, previously carding her fingers through Suhyun's messy hair, looks at him. She frowns.

“Eat,” she commands.

And Jongdae finds himself unable to argue, instead diligently stuffing his mouth with two dried apricots under Yeri's pleased gaze.





“So,” Jongdae starts. “Yeri, right?”

The latter, sat next to him, lets out a small chuckle. Soojung has been gone for an hour and a half, but considering the city's size, there's nothing worrying yet. She probably reached the warehouse less than thirty minutes ago, and only if she kept the pace she had when she left the house. In the meanwhile, the four of them have stayed in the same room Jongdae woke up in. Taehyung though, kept his distance, carefully choosing a spot on the other side of the room and dragging Suhyun with him. The latter is now fast asleep, her head on Taehyun's lap who keeps stroking her hair. Yeri wasn't as cautious, since she took back her spot next to Jongdae, forcing him to eat all the apricots left, and giving him some water to drink. She splattered more lavender oil on his back, where the skin has been scratched by his fall from the roof, and Jongdae clenched his jaws through the stinging sensation. They were sitting in silence for more than half an hour when he finally spoke.

“Yeah,” Yeri nods. “That's not my name, actually. It was my favorite singer's stage name. I figured she wouldn't mind me taking it.”

“Oh,” Jongdae says, not really knowing what else to say.

He finds himself gravitating around Yeri like a hawk moth attracted by a lantern, his mind constantly drawing links between her and Jongin, no matter how much it hurts. He's been fighting himself for the past hour, trying to swallow down all his questions because he knows how bad of an idea it is, but they finally splurt out on their own. He gives in –too easily— but watches all her reactions almost hungrily.

“You mentionned an attack a week ago?” he asks.

Luckily for him, he's a great actor and it saved him a couple of time, so faking nonchalance instead of the burning curiosity he feels right now isn't too hard. He's done the maths. Jongin said they were fourteen in the beginning. Yeri mentionned three of them left food hunting. Soojung has left too, and there are three of them left in the house. Which would mean only seven survivors out of fourteen. Jongdae doesn't care really, but something is urging him, strong and insistent under his skin. He needs to know what happened and who died.

“Yeah,” Yeri breathes out. She glances at Taehyung whose eyes are already on them, dark but not angry. Just... sad. “We usually don't get caught by daylight,” Yeri continues. “But that day was different. We had... well..”

Talking about it is obviously difficult for her, but Jongdae doesn't say anything. He needs to know.

“Seokjin was sick,” Taehyung intervenes. Suhyun stirrs in his lap, and he pulls up the blanket he threw on her earlier. “Seokjin was my friend,” he informs Jongdae.

“It was his appendix,” Yeri continues. “It burst, and he was in pain. It was just a stupid appendicitis, but in the current times..”

Jongdae nods, understanding. Deadly.

“We tried to help him though,” she keeps going. “We had no other choice than to open him, so we used a lot of lavender oil, but it took longer than we thought it would, and before we knew it, it was sunrise. There was too much blood, and eventually the lavender oil stopped working.”

Jongdae glances at Taehyung, whose eyes are lowered, veiled and glassy. When he draws back his attention on Yeri, he finds her watching Taehyung too, sad and sorry. She blinks and looks at Jongdae.

“We had to leave him open on the grass when the Infected started coming. There was so many of them... We lost six of us that day, including Suhyun's older brother, Chanhyuk.”

Jongdae tries to swallow down the lump in his throat, in vain. He looks down at his fingers, Jongin filing his mind. He wonders what kind of relationship Jongin and Chanhyuk had.

“And we also lost Jongin, he--” Yeri pauses, her voice losing its soft tone for a more breathy one, a shakier one. “He took another way out of the forest, and we can't find him.. That's why we're here, the warehouse is supposed to be a safe place, and our meeting spot when we get separated, but you said it was full of Infected and--”

Her voice breaks, and she looks away. Jongdae's heart beats so fast in his chest that he feels it pressing against his ribcage.

“Jongin is alive, Yeri,” Taehyun says, sharp and strong. “He'll be there soon. Don't worry.” He pauses, and looks at Jongdae. “Have you seen anyone else in the warehouse? Or traces of anyone?”

Jongdae shakes his head, not trusting himself to speak. Next to him, Yeri gives Taehyung a small smile as she folds back her legs against her chest.

“I'm sorry,” Jongdae adds, probably more for himself than for Yeri, but she still looks at him with kindness, her dimpled smile back on her lips as she reaches out and pats him on the arm.

“Don't be—,” she pauses, then opens her eyes wide. “I didn't even ask for your name?”

“Jongdae,” Jongdae shrugs.

“Nice to meet you, Jongdae,” Yeri chirps, her smile widening. “How old are you?”

“Twenty four,” Jongdae frowns, hoping that, maybe, she'll get the hint.

“Oh.” She obviously doesn't. “Oppa. You're the oldest here. Taeyung oppa is twenty-one, and both Suhyunie and I are seventeen.”

She looks as happy as Jongin was to be able to use some honorifics, so happy that Jongdae can't find it in himself to look at her. He glances at Taehyung instead, and finds him looking at Yeri with the shadow of a smile tugging at his lips, and warm and amused eyes.

“Anyway, don't worry oppa,” Yeri keeps going. “Taehyung oppa is right. Jongin will be there soon. He probably found someone and it took some convincing to bring them here. See, Jongin as a thing for strays, and I really wouldn't be surprised-- right oppa?” she asks, turning her head towards Taehyung who promptly nods.

“I'm tired,” Jongdae blurts out as Yeri finally catches her breath. His heart is pumping ice through his veins, and he quickly looks away, fleeing her surprised glance.

“Oh,” she says with big worried eyes. “Of course you are. Wait, I'll--”

She scrunches up her nose and shifts on all fours, reaching out to grab the blanket Jongdae woke up on earlier. She pulls it towards her and hands him to Jongdae.

“Here,” she continues. “Don't worry, Taehyung oppa and I, we'll--”

“Yeah,” Jongdae cuts her, groaning. “I'm not worried.”

He grabs the blanket, ignoring Yeri's confused look at his sharp gesture, and wraps himself in the blanket before turning on his side, his back to Yeri.

He's not really tired, but he has to play his part now, especially if closing his eyes and pretending to fall asleep can save him from Yeri's rambling. It's not that easy, as Jongdae quickly finds out though, because in the new silence filling the room, all he can hear are Taehyung, Suhyun and Yeri's breathing. The irony of it all doesn't escape him, the fact that Yeri was the one finding him minutes, not more than an hour, after he let Jongin died. It feels like it's a very bad joke the universe is playing on him, but Jongdae isn't amused, at all.

He slightly shifts so that his wounded shoulder presses against the wooden floor, hoping that the pain shooting through his arm will be enough to take his mind off Jongin. He's not really surprised that it doesn't though, and the lump in his throat only gets bigger with every second passing by watching Jongin's terrified eyes play over and over again on the back of eyelids. At least he's learned that the attack of Jongin's group wasn't because of the blood he pourred on the frontsteps of Luhan's house, which doesn't really help actually, because now he's thinking about that boy with the infected appendix they tried to help despite all the blood it would involve. What would have been the outcome if it had been Jongin up that roof? Easy one, Jongdae thinks. Jongin was there when they all made the decision to cut the boy open, wasn't he? He probably came up with the idea himself. And Yeri probably stood by him, with her dimpled smile and her warm eyes. If it had been Jongin up that roof, maybe he and Jongin would be here right now. Or maybe they would both be dead. It unsurprisingly doesn't help Jongdae either.






Jongdae wakes up with a start, the skin around his eyes feeling stiff and swollen. Still half asleep, he sits up, the quick gesture making him dizzy, and touches his face, confused. He follows the sticky trails down his eyes to his jawline, and realises with fragmented thoughts that he probably fell asleep crying. His reflexes coming back to life, he quickly grabs the blanket he's still wrapped up in and wipes his face while his eyes scan the room, seeking whatever woke him. Sunlight is slipping through the cracks around the shutters, showering in a shy light Taehyung and Suhyun fast asleep on the other side of the room. Suhyun is clinging to Taehyung who has an arm protectively wrapped around her. Jongdae narrows his eyes at them, his mind still heavy with sleepiness, and finally concludes that they're really sleeping after checking the slow rise of their chests. Yeri, though, is nowhere in sight.

Jongdae untangles himself, groaning when his ankle remains stuck in the blanket. He folds back his leg and quickly unties the sheet. He'd feel better with his machete against his hipbone, especially now that the sun is out, but he tries to reassure himself with the absence of Yeri, and Taehyung and Suhyun still sleeping. He's pretty sure that she wouldn't have let them behind if a threat had shown up.

Jongdae's right, as he quickly concludes, when he catches sight of Yeri and Soojung on the other room, talking with another girl, slightly taller. Now he also knows what woke him up. There's some ruffling on the other side of the wall, noises of plastic wrappings mostly. Food.

Jongdae glances at Taehyung and Suhyun as he gets back on his feet before walking across the room, straight to the hallway. Soojung is the first one seeing him coming, and she pats the other girl on the arm, answering to her questioning look with a head motion towards Jongdae. The latter freezes on the room's threshold when the girl turns towards him.

Her attire is quite impressive. Her body is slender, built for speed and agility with her long legs despite her small height, and the taut muscles rolling under the naked skin of her upper arms. The most impressive though are the medieval two-sided axe and the as ancient spear crossing on her back, popping out behind her head. As if it wasn't enough, she's also wearing two small katanas –chisa katanas Jongdae's inner geek corrects-- on her waist, one on each side. Soojung, with her witch look and fierce eyes looks like a kitten next to that girl.

Jongdae recoils, panic rising in his chest. He remembers Jongin saying that his people were different, but that girl doesn't look very different. It's probably Seulgi, the one in charge of the maps, but she's miles away from the girl Jongdae was picturing. Immune girls are rare, very rare, for pretty obvious reasons—they do bleed once in a month, turning into the perfect bait for Infected. Jongdae clearly remembers that Chinese lady, Liyin, gathering birth control pills in every pharmacies. She had explained him that taking it nonstop stopped periods. He also remembers her beheading the lone Infected that ran into them and disappearing before Jongdae even registered the puddle of blood at his feet. Just like Liyin, Seulgi doesn't look like she would let her periods kill her. He wonders if she managed to keep all the girls in her group alive with the same technique, but honestly, he wouldn't be surprised to learn that she did it with her weapons only.

Her face changes completely when she notices Jongdae's frightened retreat, and right where her eyes were mostly piercing, warmth appears, flooding. She wears her long hair in a high ponytail with not a strand of hair sticking out, and it surprisingly emphasizes the kindness now taking over her face just like it did with her dangerous vibe. Jongdae almost forgets the sharp weapons. Almost.

“Hi,” she says, shifting on her feet so she's facing him. Jongdae spots Yeri's huge grin over her shoulder, but he refuses to let go of Seulgi's eyes, just in case. “My name's Seulgi” she then says, confirming Jongdae's thoughts.

She turns around and bends down to grab a very familiar backpack that she then shows to Jongdae.

“We found this in the warehouse,” she tells him. She points at the handle with a dirty finger, drawing Jongdae's attention on a handwriting just as familiar as the bag. “Kim Jongdeok,” she reads. “Is that you?”

Jongdae remains quiet, even when Seulgi raises an eyebrow at him.

“You told me he spoke Korean, right?” she asks at Yeri and Soojung, confused.

“Of course,” Yeri says, raising a confused eyebrow at Jongdae. “His name is Jongdae.” She looks over at Jongdae. “Don't be so shy, oppa. Seulgi unnie is the one in charge, she's been leading us since the very beginning, and she's really nice.”

“Uh,” Jongdae lets out, glaring at the three girls watching him like he's some fledgling that has fallen from the nest. “Well I'm sorry if I'm not really comfortable around you,” he sasses them, pointing at Seulgi's weapons. “You look like you could turn me into a human kebab. Also--” he steps up and snatches his backpack from Seulgi's hands. The look of pure shock on Yeri's face is quite pleasing. “It's my bag, thank you.”

Yeri looks so outraged at the lack of honorifics and Jongdae's rudeness, it would be hilarious if Jongdae wasn't so annoyed, actually teetering on anger. Every smile Seulgi throws at him makes the edges of his vision go red. He doesn't want to know their names, who they are and how nice they can be, he should have been gone the minute after he woke up, wounded arm or not. At least now he's got his bag back, which means he just has to refill it before leaving. The pang of guilt taking him by surprise when he thinks about stealing Yeri and her friends angers him even more.

Seulgi's amused smile, perched on her natural pink lips, doesn't help, nor the fact that she barely seems troubled by Jongdae's glares.

“Guys,” she says, gesturing towards the side of the room Jongdae can't see.

He frowns and peeks further inside the room, only now noticing two other persons, men this time, putting some food out of a few backpacks. They both glance over their shoulders, straightening when they see Jongdae. The latter's eyes slide down their bodies, down to their waists, and he internally grumbles. Great, more weapons.

“Guys, meet Jongdae,” Seulgi introduces him, her voice still as amused and playfuf. She glances at Jongdae and points towards the smaller guy of the two, with big eyes and thick eyebrows. “Jongdae, this is Kyungsoo, and Junmyeon,” she concludes, showing the last man.

Jongdae immediately decides he doesn't like this Junmyeon guy, because of the warm smile the latter just sent him, as if they were friends. At least, the other one has the common sense to look at him with suspicion, and Jongdae does not miss his fingers getting nearer the long knife hanging on his hipbone.

“I think Jongdae--” Seulgi pauses, glancing at Jongdae's makeshift arm sling, “--is going to stay with us for a while.”

Junmyeon waves at Jongdae with a big smile.

“Welcome,” he greets him.

Jondgae stays there for a few seconds, dumbfounded. He witnesses Junmyeon's face going from warmth to confusion, and rolls his eyes. He snorts, turns on his heels and leaves the room, gripping tight his backpack. Instead of going back in the room he slept in, he turns left towards the stairs that he takes two by two. He's not really in the mood for smiling and warm people, so he finds himself a nice little room and sits in a corner, closing the door behind him. He doesn't think people like Jongin's friends would get the hint and understand what a closed door means, but nothing ventured, nothing gained. Jongdae even considers pushing the single bed in front of the door, but the sting of pain it wakes in his arm when he tries immediately stops him.

He could open the shutters and leave, he thinks as he takes in his surroundings. How long does it take for a dislocated shoulder to heal? He probably could find himself a safe place to stay until his arm is good, but it'd be dangerous. Not only because of the Infected, but also because of Luhan. He can't be sure the latter is after him, but might as well take all the possible precautions. Not to mention that he's still weaponless, and that is a risk Jongdae refuses to take.

He slightly deflates, his break-out daydreams going up in smoke. With a deep sigh, he lets himself slide against the wall as he brings his bag closer to his chest, his thumb mindlessly stroking the writing on the handle. He'll have to wait for Seulgi to give him back his machete before trying something. Jongdae also saw what they brought from the warehouse, and there's plenty of food. He could steal a little everyday, so it goes unnoticed, in preparation for the moment he'll leave.

Mind a little more at ease now that he has settled on a plan, Jongdae opens his bag to draw up the inventory of what he already has. He frowns when he looks down at the bag's contents though, something feeling very off even though he's not entirely sure what. He moves the small packs of dried meat aside, and finally understands when he spots the bag of fortune cookies in the bottom. It's the last thing he put inside his bag, so it should have been at the top, and not under everything else. Someone has obviously rummaged through his bag.

Jongdae glances at the still closed door with knitted eyebrows. Seulgi? He immediately crosses out Junmyeon's name of his list, but something tells him Seulgi and Kyungsoo are as innocent. Why would they have brought the bag back? Jongdae turns it upside down, forcing its contents out, and puts the bag aside as he eyes the food and the few useful tools on the floor between his legs. He spreads it all on the carpeting, mindlessly chewing on his under lip as he thinks hard. Nothing seems to be missing, from his lighter to the ammos. He also spots the pain killers and the disinfectant, and even sees the Chinese prediction he found in the fortune cookie. Jongdae seizes it, thumb sliding over the tiny piece of paper to roll it out. He's pretty sure the Chinese character he recognized earlier indeed means love, but no matter how hard he tries, he can't decipher the other ones.

He's about to put the paper away when he freezes. He remembers the boy behind the shelf, the freckles spreading on his nose and cheekbones, and his smirk, the amusement in his eyes. From how well equipped he was, with the rope, bow and quiver, Jongdae doesn't think he would have stolen him the lighter or anything like that. He probably had everything already. As for the food, they were in a warehouse full of goods, and after going on the roof, the boy was safe and free to slide down the rope again to grab what he needed later. Jongdae's eyes zoom on the contents spilled on the floor, and that's when he realises.

His sockets are missing. And with them, the tubes of blood.






The door opens a few hours later, much later than what Jongdae had thought. The reason is pretty simple: Seulgi is the one entering his newly found corner of paradise, and not Yeri like what he was expecting. He immediately notices that Seulgi isn't carrying her axe and spear on her back anymore, although the two katanas are still hanging on her waist. She wordlessly takes in the room as she walks towards Jongdae, still sitting in the corner, and joins him, just as silently. She hands him a plastic cup filled with water and a large cup of curry ramen with chopsticks already planted in the noodles. Jongdae eyes her before gulping down the water, and grabbing the more than welcomed food.

“Yeri didn't want me to bring you food. She said you've been really mean, and she's waiting for your apologies,” Seulgi tells him with a smile.

Jongdae snorts, but the sound comes out weird and gross, since he's also slurping a mouthful of noodles. Seulgi's smile grows wider and more amused.

“That's ridiculous,” Jongdae retorts, licking the flavoured water off his lips. “What does she want? An apology letter?”

“I'm pretty sure she would like that, a lot,” Seulgi chuckles.

Jondgae rolls his eyes, stirring his ramen with his chopsticks.

“There's no mailmen anymore, they're all dead,” he grumbles before bringing up the cup of ramen to stuff another huge mouthful of noodles in his mouth.

Seulgi watches him eat in silence, perfectly motionless, so much that Jongdae almost forgets her presence, too busy savoring the explosion of stinging curry in his mouth. Almost only, because the two long blades she's wearing still make him wary.

“Thanks for telling Soojung about the attack in the warehouse,” Seulgi finally says, breaking the silence.

Jongdae raises an eyebrow at her, his chopsticks stopping midair.

“Did you get attacked?”

She shakes her head.

“But we could have been. That's why I'm thanking you. With Soojung by our side, we were almost sure to come back safe and sound if those eight Infected had found us.”

Jongdae nods, and when he looks down at the noodles swimming in the yellowish water, his stomach gives a jump of protest. He puts the cup away, wishing he hadn't eaten so much.

“What happened to you?” Seulgi finally asks, curious. Jongdae undertands that the question is partly why Seulgi came upstairs. “I mean, we found you in the bush, and it was like you had fallen from the roof but--”

“That's exactly what happened,” Jongdae nods. “I was trying to escape from the Infected, and I fell. It was stupid.”

Seulgi gives him a little smile.

“Luckily for you, we were there.”

Jondgae nods perfunctory. Yeah, luckily.

“Yeri probably told you about Jongin, right?” Seulgi's serious face cracks, letting amusement take over her soft features for a short second. “Of course she did. Jongin is her favorite topic.”

Jongdae slightly nods. The food feels dangerously heavy in his stomach, so he grabs one of the water bottles he got out of his bag, and gulps down two long mouthfuls of water. He winces as the lukewarm liquid fills his mouth, not as pleasant as the fresh water Seulgi brought him, but at least he doesn't feel like throwing up anymore.

“We're going to stay here for a while,” Seulgi explains. “Around a week, I guess. You're more than welcomed to stay with us.”

She's looking at him like she knows what he was plotting earlier, and her eyes, smart and penetrating, only leave his face to point at his arm.

“It'd be the best thing for you to do, or at least as long as your arm hurts,” she tells him, and this time, Jongdae is actually convinced she knows what he had in mind.

He crosses the stealing off his list, understanding that Seulgi will never let him wander through the house without supervision. He'll have to stick to the food they'll give him in the meanwhile and keep the little he has in his bag. He won't refill in the warehouse though, it's too dangerous alone and without both his arms at full capacity. There are plenty of houses in this side of the city, and it should do it.

Seulgi watches him for the longest moment, before sighing and shrugging.

“Okay,” she finally says. “I get it. You can't trust us.”

“Just like you don't really trust me,” Jongdae retorts, bitting, and it has Seulgi chuckling.

“I'm just being cautious,” she smiles. “We did save you though. And now we're giving you food and protection.”

Jongdae's blood turns into ice. He's been there countless of times before, and he knows what's about to come. He's navigated through enough groups to know how it works. The world has crumbled down, and mundane things like mutual aid have been so conveniently forgotten. Everything has a price, but people like Seulgi, people that are more powerful, usually take more than what they receive. It's exactly what has saved Jongdae all those months. He kowtows, lets them take everything they want until they think he's weak, and then takes delight in screwing them over. He hadn't expected Seulgi to be like that, but it's not that surprising, in the end.

“What do you want?” he asks through gritted teeth.

Seulgi's smile grows wider.

“I'll gladly keep doing that,” she says. “But in exchange, you'll have to apology to Yeri.”

It catches Jongdae off guard, and he stares at Seulgi, taken aback. Mirth is taking over her face as she struggles to refrain an amused chuckle, one that tells Jongdae she was aware of what he actually thought. He stutters, confused, and Seulgi chuckles, obviously delighted by her little joke.

“Okay,” she finally says with a long sigh, still grinning when she catches Jongdae's glare. She gives him a slight tap on the thigh and gets back on her feet. She looks down with another smile, one softer and sincere. “When you're done sulking, remember you're more than welcomed downstairs.”

“I'm not sulking,” Jongdae snaps back.

Seulgi raises an amused eyebrow at him, but she doesn't say anything. With a last smile, she turns on her heels, heading towards the door. Jongdae watches her, her long hair grazing her shoulder blades and the two katanas following the sway of her lips, and before he can't stop himself, he straightens, detaching his back from the wall.

“Thanks for the bag,” he calls her out.

Seulgi stops and looks over her shoulder.

“You're welcome,” she singsongs.

“Have you looked inside?” Jongdae asks, trying not to sound too accusing.

Seulgi doesn't seem to take offence, though. She looks midly confused as she frowns and shakes her head.

“Why?” she questions when Jongdae sighs, bitting down on his lips.

“There was someone else in the warehouse when I got attacked. A man with a bow. Something's missing from my bag, and I'm pretty sure he stole it.”

Seulgi completely turns over, her eyebrows deeply furrowed.

“Do you think he's still in town?”

Jongdae wordlessly nods. He likes the conclusions he reads in Seulgi's eyes. If he has to stay under her protection until they give him back his machete, at least he knows she won't lead him to his death. She's different from Jongin, she's actually aware of how dangerous it is out there.

“Okay,” Seulgi finally says. “We'll be extra careful.”

Jongdae nods. Seulgi turns over again, and crosses the remaining distance to the door without looking over her shoulder. It's only when she steps through the door that she raises a playful finger above her head, and joins with a chirping Apology!. Jongdae doesn't answer, but he does follow the sound of her footsteps downstairs. He's suddenly reminded of Jongin telling him with a proud voice how different his friends are, and unsurprisingly, Jongdae has no trouble picturing the look Jongin would throw at him right now, his eyebrows taking a playful curve, and the corner of his lips twitching with the need to smile.

“Yeah,” Jongdae grumbles. “Okay, you were right. They do sound pretty different.”

He grabs his bag and hugs it to his chest as he lies down. He doesn't feel like going downstairs right now, not with the sun falling lower and lower behind the horizon line, and the other residents of the house waking up one after the other. Instead, Jongdae stays there, with his legs spread on the carpeting, as motionless as he can, hoping that it will make sleep fetch him faster. He feels the tears prickling behind his eyelids, but he swallows them. It was the only thing to do if he wanted to survive, plus Jongin was hurt, he was bleeding. They would have never escaped from the Infected.

Does that help? asks the Jongin in his mind, with his long legs crossed before him, and his nasal voice letting out warm and soft intonations.

“Shut up,” Jongdae grumbles, and instead of thinking about Jongin's terrified sobs, he thinks about bow guy and wonders what the latter is doing with his blood.







Jongdae takes a first tentative step down the stairs. He stops and listens, on the lookout for the slighest noise. When nothing comes, he crouches down with his hand still on the banister rail, and glances through the bars. The sunlight coming through the cracks doesn't pierce the darkness ruling over the house, but it's just enough for Jongdae to see the steps, which he is grateful for.

After a few seconds, he comes to the conclusion that nothing is moving downstairs, so he tiptoes his way down the stairs. He winces when his stomach grumbles, and rubs his belly to try and ease the heavy feeling of hunger. He slept throughout the night, and was expecting a new portion of food when he woke up, but no one came. Obviously, his decision to stay upstairs crumbled down with the hours passing by and the hunger chewing on his insides. With the food inside his bag strictly prohibited, Jongdae had no other choice than to come out of his lair. It doesn't mean he has to obey Seulgi and apology though, and he's stubborn enough to actually try to avoid her—and Yeri. At least, he's slept more than he never has in a year, and he feels fully rested, ready to jump in the darkness at the slightest sound. Jongdae is really confident in his chances, grabbing something from Seulgi's stack of food can't be that hard, especially with the household fast asleep.

The carpet at the foot of the stairs muffles his last step, and still holding the banister rail, Jongdae bends down, sticking just the top of his head out of the corner of the wall to check the living room. He catches a few bodies lying here and there, all wrapped in their blankets, and the slow breathings he can hear assure him that they're all asleep. His stomach grumbles in joy, and Jongdae straightens up, already salivating. Jongdae: 1. Seulgi: 0.

He tiptoes across the hallway, and just when he's about to enter the room where he knows they've piled up their loot, Jongdae hears a muffled noise coming from the kitchen. He freezes, but the sound, wet, shaky and sniffling, quickly proves to be harmless. Jongdae hesitates for a short second, but curiosity takes the best of him, and he turns around, straight to the kitchen.

He finds Yeri sitting cross-legged on the floor, the table and chairs having been pushed back against the back door. She raises red and swollen eyes at him, her fists clenched and pressed against her chest. The strong smell of lavender hits Jongdae's nose, and he winces, noticing the bottle of lavender oil opened next to the younger girl. She sniffs while looking at him, her face a mix of distress and pride.

“I'm okay,” she says with defiance, but her voice breaks around her last intonations.

Jongdae's heart swells at how small and fragile she looks with her red nose and her shivering body. She glares at him, preventing any mockings Jongdae could throw her way, as if he would. The aggressiveness she's trying to showcase is weak, crumbling down with every little jerk of her shaking lips, but Yeri holds on, her dark eyes boring into Jongdae's. The latter feels his own resolve break, and he mentally sweeps it away, as well as his hunger.

“Hey,” Jongdae says soflty. “What's wrong?”

He slowly crouches down, and Yeri's face falls as she whimpers, slightly curling on herself.

“It's just—it burns so much.”

She starts sobbing, her whole body snapping with her, and it's a terrible thing to witness. She brings her knees up against her chest and buries her head between her arms. Her back is shaking and she presses her palms against the top of her head so hard that the veins start popping up, breaking the delicate monotony of her milky skin with harsh blue. Jongdae's eyes follow her long fingers as they spread into thin air like claws seeking for a hold, and he's hit by another wave of lavender. He frowns, shifting closer to examine Yeri's fingertips, only noticing then that she's bitten all her nails down to the quick. Jongdae's heart jolts when he catches sight of the raw skin, and he throws a nervous glance at the back door. Yeri's fingers are shining with all the lavender oil she splattered on them, but Jongdae still has trouble believing that the bucolic smell can really keep the Infected at bay. They would already be there though, so he tries not to panic. His eyes navigate down to Yeri's waist, where her knife is resting, just in case.

“Jongin stops me when he sees me bitting my nails,” Yeri sobs. “But Jongin isn't there.” She clenches her fists and grits her teeth. “It fucking burns!”

Jongdae grabs her wrists, and starts blowing on her fingers. She looks up, surprised. Jongdae pushes her right hand towards her face, fingers still tightly secured around the other.

“Take that one,” he tells her. “I'll take care of the other.”

Knowing perfectly well that Yeri's eyes are still on him, Jongdae takes a long inhalation, until he feels like his lungs are about to explode, and finally breathes out on her fingers, blowing up his cheeks as much as he can. It seems to do the trick, because he hears Yeri chuckling not a second after. She wiggles her fingers and shows him her right hand. Jongdae raises an eyebrow at her, and shakes his head.

“Your turn to be ridiculous,” he says.

Yeri gives him a faint smile, and brings her fingers up to her lips. She breathes in, then out on the wounded skin, her eyes closing with her exhalation. The few droplets of water that were caught by her naturally curled lashes land on her cheekbones and slide down to her jawline, and Jongdae's fingers itch with the need to wipe them away.

“Does it help?” he finally asks.

Yeri gives him a slight shrug for an answer, but she keeps blowing on her hands. Jondgae grabs the bottle of lavender oil, and puts the cap back on it under her piercing eyes. He hesitates for a short moment, and finally sits down next to her. She's lost her defensive behaviour, and Jongdae takes it as a small victory.

After a while, Yeri finally stops blowing on her fingers. Jongdae catches her glancing down with envy at her shirt, probably wanting to wipe her fingers on the dirty fabric, but she never does. Instead, she puts her hands flat on her thighs, her legs streched out before her, and she eyes her nails warily. She's so young, he realises now that he's finally looking at her without trying to run away. Jongin already looked so young, so out of place, but he had his height and the muscles rolling under his shirt to shield him from the world. Yeri has nothing, aside from the few people travelling with her. She's skinny -they all are-, pale and covered with dust, she hasn't losen all of her baby fat yet, and the nail-bitting induced pain makes her bite her lips. Jongdae is hit by another wave of guilt. He has no trouble picturing Jongin's long arms wrapped around Yeri's small figure, his slender fingers keeping Yeri's away from her teeth, and his sweet warm voice even keeping her away from the anxiety behind the need to bite her nails.

“My mom used to say it was a very bad habit, and that I would regret it eventually, but I think she was mostly talking about my feminity,” Yeri says after a few moments of silence. She snorts to herself, looking up to meet Jongdae's eyes. “She'd be so pleased to know she was right, even though the problem isn't finding myself a nice husband, but actually surviving. She was kind of a bitch.”

“My mom was nice,” Jongdae confesses. “She made the most delicious soup ever.”

Yeri chuckles, and lightly shakes her head. Jongdae's mom was nice, with him, his dad, his brother, his friends that she loved sometimes more than him. She was a lot of things, but she wasn't immune, and twenty four hours after the winds that had blown on the Mist still covering hundreds of miles hit Daejeon, she stopped being nice. There's something surreal in the panic of those days, because it all seems so distant when it was only a year ago. The world has changed so fast.

Jongdae blinks, breaking out of his reverie, and his eyes settle on Yeri's face again. She looks as lost in her thoughts as he was. He wonders what she's thinking about. (He shouldn't.)

“Look, I'm... I'm sorry for earlier,” he grumbles clumsily.

Yeri blinks at him, and it takes her a long second to remember what he's talking about. Her eyes widen, and her eyebrows go up, but the expected smile is quick to follow, and the dimple finally pops up on her face. Jongdae still thinks the apologies were useless, and probably uncalled for, but seeing how satisfied Yeri is looking right now is almost worthy.

“I know you think it's ridiculous,” Yeri says. “But my mom, although bitchy, was a good mom. And then one day she comes in my bedroom and tries to eat me. There are so many of us gone with so much of what we were. I think we should keep what's left, before it gets ripped away from us too.”

Jongdae watches her. He's heard that story a billion of times already. Immunity against the Misty Virus isn't genetic, obviously, and they all lost their families. Jongdae's parents were using their heads to try and break the door that kept him and Jongdeok, his older brother, safe. He remembers that guy, from one of the groups he stole, telling how his six year old sister broke her teeth biting on the car's door while he was trying to start the engine. Yeri's story is saddly unoriginal, but it still hits Jongdae with images of a terrified Yeri being dragged out of her bed in the middle of the night, her mother's perfectly painted nails digging in her ankle. It's one of the things Jongin did, and that Jongdae shouldn't have let him do. Make him care like that. The issue would have been the same, but at least Jongdae wouldn't have been left chasing pieces of Jongin in the eyes of a girl, with the same tendency to care about the past when it's been buried under layers of dust.

"I can help you with the nail biting if you want," he says, gesturing to her hands.

She snorts, as if the mere idea of Jongdae actually helping her is hilarious, and Jongdae frowns.

"What?"

"I'm sorry oppa, but you don't really hit me as the caring type. I can picture you punching me in the face everytime I'd try to bite my nails so well."

"Nonsense," Jongdae retorts. "How did Jongin do?"

Yeri's features soften, and her eyes glitter with glee. She and Jongin are so look alike, Jongdae would easily call them soulmates if it wasn't so cruel for Yeri, but he can't refute the heavy sense of deja vu flooding him.

"Well," she finally says. "Jongin used to hold my hands, and talk me through the need."

"Okay," Jongdae eagerly nods before he can even register what he's agreeing to, and when Yeri's word finally catch up with him, he freezes. She chuckles, pressing her palm over her mouth to try and muffle the sound. Jongdae can't help but find it so pretty, how with a single gesture, Yeri manages to remind him of the danger outside. They're hidden in a house, but it's still the middle of the day, and Infected could be strolling on the lawn right now. It doesn't look dangerous though, when it's Yeri's hand curling on her mouth, her fingers still so graceful despite the raw skin framing her short nails, just like it didn't look deadly at all when it was Jongin's dancing gait and stargazing sessions. It wasn't that pretty in the end though.

"Come on, turn around," she finally asks him, an amused dimpled smile still perched on her lips. "I'll apply some oil on your back, just in case the scabs fall too soon."

Jongdae obliges, his hunger long forgotten in favor of a just as overwhelming thought. He really can't see how Yeri could end differently than Jongin.






Jongdae keeps his headquarters upstairs, even though Yeri tells him numerous times that he's welcomed downstairs. He won't give up on his precious solitude that easily this time. Plus he's not sure all of Yeri's friends are actually ready to welcome him in their personal space. Junmyeon is always friendly with him, and Suhyun has finally broken out of her shell. She's now able to stay in the same room than him without Taehyung by her side, which Jongdae should probably feel indifferent about, but indifference is hard to fake when Suhyun smiles. Seulgi still wears that mischievous smile around him, and is quick to react to his biting remarks with even more sass. Soojung opens up as well, in her twisted way, full of dark humour, and Jongdae happily joins. Actually, Kyungsoo is the only one who remains so wary around him, his round eyes following Jongdae's every movements. Jongdae is getting used to his dark stare when they eat dinner altogether, but it doesn't mean he likes it. Kyungsoo looks at him like he knows Jongin will never be back with them, because of Jongdae himself.

Because Jongin remains the most important topic, no matter if it's lovingly and warmly through Yeri's mouth, or worriedly and whispered between Soojung and Seulgi. It's almost ironic, because Jongdae has seen Jongin's existence come to an end, it was abrupt and mostly final, but now he has to navigate through Jongin barging in his routine as if nothing happened. As if Jongdae hadn't killed him. He dreams about him every night now, and he wakes up crying, begging Jongin to stay dead. Knowing he will die once and for all only when Jongdae will tell his friends doesn't help. They all like their missing member better with a beating heart.

On the fourth day, Yeri knocks on his door, hesitating, and Jongdae can't find the words to refuse when she puts her blankets on the floor next to him. She doesn't ask about the bed, nor does she comment about the tears on his face when he wakes up. Thankfully, he doesn't speak in his sleep.

On the sixth day, Soojung raises a judging eyebrow at them from the doormat of the bedroom where she's standing, her stuff carefully folded under her arm. She calls them idiots and asks Jongdae to help her pull the mattress on the floor. Yeri forces Jongdae on it because even though you don't have an arm sling anymore you need to take care of your arm. It turned out that his shoulder wasn't really dislocated. It was a huge bruise, whose edges are now darkening on his shoulder blade. It still hurts like a bitch.

The sixth night is also the first night he spends with Yeri. She climbs on the mattress in the middle of the day, when the world outside has the sharpest teeth, and the few humans left the most terrible dreams, and Jongdae immediately tenses, still half asleep. She whispers something about nails in his ears, and he catches her hands, shoving them under him, his hazy mind easily letting go of precautions to drag him back to sleep. Soojung snorts when they wake up, judging, but she almost purrs later, when Yeri teaches Jongdae how to braid hair before making him practice on Soojung.

On the seventh day, Jongdae considers the bag of fortune cookies. The fact that he doesn't even try to fight himself tells a lot, and how easy it is to walk downstairs with the bag should scare him, but it doesn't. Maybe you weren't with the right people, Jongin had said back then, and Jongdae is starting to believe he was right. He knows how quickly things change, and he let it catch him, probably too willingly. His guilt has a lot to do with it of course, but Jongdae can't actually think of a better reason to stay. He killed Jongin, but maybe he can save his friends, maybe he can help them. He hasn't forgotten about Lyushunkou and Seulgi wanting to go there, but he can't really bring up the topic himself. He won't let them go to the port city though, and the only way to stop them would be to stay with them.

So Jongdae takes the cookies downstairs.

Seulgi and Kyungsoo are both outside, hunting for more food, but he finds the rest of the team in the kitchen, happily gathered around the gas cooker. Soojung found a bottle full of gas a couple of days before, to Yeri's happiness. She now spends all of her time rummaging through the stash of food, mumbling about recipes and ingredients, and somehow, it turns into delicious food at every meal. Jongdae tilts his head when he comes into the kitchen, catching sight of the wok in front of Suhyun and Yeri, and salivates at the mere idea of Yeri's fried noodles.

Taehyung notices him, and his eyes naturally fall on the bag of cookies still between Jongdae's fingers. The latter tries to keep a straight face at the look of pure amazement filling Taehyung's now open wide eyes, but the way the younger boy almost hops up and down makes it difficult. Taehyung grabs Soojung's tank top, who pushes him away when the fragile fabric gives a cracking sound in protest.

“Dessert!” Taehyung exclaims, pointing at Jongdae. “I haven't had a dessert since forever!”

Suhyun turns around, as excited as Taehyung, and Jongdae lets them run towards him and snatch the bag off his hands. Taehyung lets Suhyun plunge her hand deep into the bag first, but he keeps licking his lips, fidgeting with impatience as she rummages through the cookies to find the bigger one.

“They're all the same, Suhyunie,” Taehyung whines, stomping his feet. “Just take one already!”

Suhyun chuckles, but she pulls out two cookies anyway, and hands Taehyung one. He immediately shoves it in his mouth, and Suhyun's chuckles turn into full peals of laughter. (”There's a message inside you idiot!”) Soojung rolls her eyes, in her annoyed but very loving way, and helps Taehyung spitting out the piece of paper. Jongdae doesn't follow the exchange though, because his eyes are glued to Yeri's. They're like crescent moons, all curves and softness, and he finds himself unable to look away.

“You were keeping those cookies” she says with her signature smile, a hand on the hip. “Why would you give them now?”

“I was saving them for a special occasion,” Jongdae retorts.

Yeri beams at him. Jongdae has caught her glancing at his bag way too many times to think she doesn't understand the true meaning of what he's just done, and from the grin perched on her lips, she obviously does. For the first time since the world went crazy, Jongdae is convinced that he is finally doing something right. Dangerous, yes, but right.

Next to him, Suhyun complains about the Chinese characters. Jongdae meets Soojung's gaze, as judging as ever, but he has just enough practice to read the amusement in her eyes now. She puts her hand on Jongdae's arm, half-patting, half-squeezing.

“Now that you're officially with us,” she says with a mischievous smile. She motions with her head towards Taehyung and Suhyun, the both of them rummaging through the bag again. “They're also your kids, so please stop them before they make themselves sick.”

Jongdae rolls his eyes, but doesn't complain as he turns around.

“Soojung's right, guys,” he says. “You said it yourself, it's supposed to be a dessert, not a starter.”

Taehyung pulls his hand out of the bag, fingers tightly secured around a couple of cookies, and he opens his mouth, ready to argue with Jongdae's last point, very vehemently, when a sharp knock on the roof interupts them. Jongdae freezes, and Soojung's hand flies to her belt.

“Junmyeon,” she says. She presses her index fingers on her lips to gesture them to keep quiet.

No one in Seulgi's group naively thinks that four walls are enough against the dangers outside, and that's why there's always someone hidden on the roof with their eyes scrutinizing the horizon line. A loud knock on the tiles means that something is coming, something bad. Jongdae has flashes of the Infected alpha taking over his mind, and he slowly crouches down, cold sweat breaking all over his body. He glances over his shoulder to see that Yeri has crouched down as well. Next to him, Taehyung is on his knees, curled around Suhyun that he holds tight against his chest.

Jongdae closes his eyes, palms flat against the floor for balance, and focuses on the noise outside. He hears a cuckoo singing in a close tree, some nocturnal bugs, and even a snake whistling probably just under one of the windows, but nothing else. They're blind inside the house, because of the closed shutters and the night, thick and starless, outside. Jongdae knows better than to trust nature's peacefulness right now. He cracks an eye open and glances at Soojung who is now holding her beretta with a firm grip, dark eyes travelling from one window to another. The cuckoo keeps hooting, oooh ooohs that Jongdae now hears it like a voice that goes who who who who, and it's driving him crazy. He thinks about Seulgi and Kyungsoo out there, and Junmyeon, who's still on the roof, but quickly sweeps aside his concern. Junmyeon is well-hidden, and probably the safest of them all up there; as for Seulgi and Kyungsoo, they both know how to use the weapons they carry around. Jongdae should focus on his own safety. Their safety.

Yeri is still franctically checking her nails when the roar breaks the night outside. For a very short second, Jongdae deflates, intense relief washing over him as the image of the alpha's bestial grimace fades away from his mind. The roar of the engine brings back other memories though, that implies just as much danger, and he tenses again upon hearing the car driving closer. It's going fast, the tires squealing against the concrete in every turn, and as it gets closer, he hears people laughing out loud and screaming Chinese words that he can't catch at the top of their lungs.

Soojung sightly taps him on the shoulder and motions him to follow her towards the closer window. She walks crouched down, so silent that Jongdae doesn't even hear her clotches scratch. He follows her, eyeing with envy the hunting knife at her thigh. She glances at him when the car stops in the street, too close to the house, and the dark look in her eyes echoes what Jongdae is feeling right now. The Immune outside aren't survivors, they're mad men drunk on the feeling of surviving, thinking that if they did, it's because they're too powerful and out of reach. Those are the worst, and if they were to find Jongdae and his friends, they wouldn't only kill them. Taehyung and Jongdae would probably be luckier and die pretty fast, but as for the girls...

Soojung taps under her right eye with her index finger, and points one of the thin cracks, wordlessly asking Jongdae to take a peek. He nods, and when she's sure he got the message, she grabs the edge of the window with her free hand and glances through one of the cracks herself. Jongdae checks Taehyung, Suhyun and Yeri behind him, the three of them silently turning off the lanterns, before pressing his own face against the closed shutter.

Luckily for them, the intruders outside didn't judge necessar to turn off the car's front beams, and the light breaks the darkness of the street, informing Jongdae and Soojung of the numbers and the state of the Chinese guys.

“Are they drunk...?” Soojung whispers, astounded.

Jongdae's eyes follow one of them who stumbles out of the car, a beer bottle in his hands. He has no doubts over their inebriation, and it's a very good thing for them. If they end up attacking, they'll be so much easier to eliminate. Jongdae can also breath more easily now that he's convinced Luhan isn't involved. He's spent enough time with the Chinese man to know how he handle his pawns. Luhan is cruel, not stupid. Being drunk in the middle of a city is a short way to getting yourself killed, and he would know it. The men out there are still a threat though, but nothing in their behaviors tells they're aware of their existence.

“There are six of them,” Soojung murmurs.

Jongdae pulls his face away from the hole and they exchange a look. With Junmyeon, they're also six. Jongdae looks over his shoulder and finds both Yeri and Suhyun in the middle of the room, their knives in their hands. Taehyung has moved to the second window of the room, the safety of his gun off. Outside, the men are heavily armed, the harsh light of the car landing against the numerous guns on their belts with cold glares. Jongdae spotted at least two pump action shotguns, and they probably have more inside the car.

Soojung is watching him, the wrinkle on her forehead deep. She carefully draws out the knife from her thigh holster, and takes it by the blade before handing it to Jongdae.

“Just in case,” she breathes out.

Jongdae nods. If they survive, he'll thank her later. Because even like that, six against six, they can't be sure they'll be able to fight the intruders off. They have a lot of guns, when only Soojung and Taehyung own one inside the house. Their only advantage would be the house and the blocked front door, and Junmyeon, who could be a great defense since the light doesn't reach the roof. But all in all, Jongdae wouldn't bet on their chances, and he would rather like the Chinese men to get on their car again, and leave this town as fast as possible.

They don't really look like they will leave anytime soon, though. One of them has climbed on the roof of the vehicle, and is now singing a Chinese song at the top of his lungs, waving his half empty bottle in the night. They're so noisy, which makes them even more dangerous. Night or not, if the Infected hear them, they won't hesitate to come out of their nests, and Jongdae knows for sure there is at least one pack in town. Because of the city's size, he's actually convinced there are many more. The back wheels of the car are on the front lawn of the house they're currently hidden in. They're way too close, and if some Infected show up, they'll most probably find them too.

“We can't kill them,” Soojung mutters next to Jongdae. She probably came to the same conclusions.

“Because of the blood,” Jongdae approves.

“But we can't let them stay.” She winces as one of the intruder burst into a litany of Chinese curses.

Jongdae bites his lower lip, taking another look through the crack. Soojung keeps watching him, as if waiting for an answer Jongdae isn't sure he has. The men outside have put their empty bottles on the car's hood, and one them is currently aiming at them with his gun. The detonation echoes through the night, followed by a cacophony of laughters.

“Fuck,” Soojung curses, pulling off the safety of her gun.

Jongdae feels it too, the urgency. There's no cuckoos singing anymore, and he can't hear the bugs. He fidgets, still crouched down, and looks over his shoulder. Yeri looks back, pale and anxious. She lets go of Suhyun's hand to bring her fingers up to her lips, and Jongdae glares at her.

“Don't,” he hisses.

Yeri whimpers, looking miserable as hell. Suhyun catches her hands, and keeps it secured between her fingers. Jongdae watches them for a short second, and finally turns back to Soojung, determined.

“I need to get out of the house.”

“What?”

“I'll lure them away.”

Soojung frowns, and Jongdae's respect for her only grows. She's not flately refusing, but actually considering his proposition. The darkness of her hair glistens under the light slipping through the cracks, and the blond finds back its radiance, the sickly yellowish color now looking golden and velvety in the mix of light and darkness around her. For the first time, Jongdae realises how pretty she is, with her thin nose and delicate lips.

“I can do it,” he assures her, urging, as another detonation echoes outside.

Soojung nods, dismissing his begging tone with a flick of the wrist.

“I know you can,” she says. “I'm just thinking about the details. You'll have to take your bag with you, so they think you have something they could steal.”

Jongdae nods.

“How are you going to shake them off though?”

“The roofs,” Jongdae answers without an ounce of hesitation. “I can lure them closer to the city center, and make them think I got deeper into it, when I'll actually be coming back, jumping from one roof to another. It's very dark outside, and the car can't light up the roofs. They won't see me.”

Soojung thinks for another short second and finally nods. She takes back her knife, and puts her gun in his hand in exchange.

“Just in case,” she says for the second time, and Jongdae snorts.

“You can't do that, you'll get killed,” Yeri protests, as vehemently as she can, considering that she has to whisper.

Understanding her worry, Jongdae gives her a small smile. Another detonation makes the windows shake, and Yeri's face falls. He puts the gun in his belt, and slowly cards his fingers through her hair, finally stopping his hand on her neck.

“Watch her,” he tells Suhyun, whose eyes are filled with fear, and Jongdae can't help but feel touched that she looks so afraid for him. “If she starts bitting her nails, please punch her in the face for me.”

Yeri snorts, but doesn't protest. Jongdae gets back up on his feet, exchanging one last look with Soojung, and turns on his heels, heading towards the stairs.

“Hey, Jongdae,” Taehyung calls him in a hurried whisper. Jongdae stops, raising a questioning eyebrow at the younger man. “Don't be late if you want a few cookies. Can't promise I won't eat them all.”

“I have another bag in my backpack,” Jondgae retorts.

“That makes one more reason for you to come back,” Taehyung shrugs. “Don't make me come and get you and those cookies.”

Jongdae smiles, and nods, and Taehyung waves at him with intense eyes. He looks over at Yeri, Soojung and Suhyun, and flashes them the same confident smile. The fourth detonation startles him, and he winces, turning on his heels right away. He runs up the stairs, leaving Yeri and the others behind, and runs towards his bedroom. He grabs his bag, opens it and throws the bag of cookies on his bed, before sliding the bag on his shoulders as he walks out of the room with long strides. The bathroom upstairs is the only room whose window hasn't been blocked because it's the only access to the roof, and its smaller size makes it less dangerous than the others.

Jongdae opens it, and winces. The smaller window indeed, so much that he doubts he'll be able to go through it with his bag. He curses under his breath as the gunfire sounds keep echoing on the front lawn, and takes off his bag. He shoves it through the window, directly on the roof, and grabs the ledge. He hauls himself up, waking up the now distant pain in his arm, and crawls out of the window. A pale hand shoot through the night, and grabs his wrist. Jongdae gasps, taken aback, but a very familiar voice stops him before he struggles.

“It's me, it's me!” Junmyeon whispers.

Jongdae grumbles, mentally cursing himself, and he lets Junmyeon help him onto the roof. They immediately crouch down to remain in the darkness. Jongdae takes back his bag, and slides it on his shoulders again under Junmyeon's wide and worried eyes.

“What are you doing?”

“We can't let them play here,” Jongdae says.

Junmyeon frowns, and just like Soojung, he doesn't really protest, although the concern for Jongdae's safety is much more obvious on his face.

“They have a car,” Junmyeon says. “I'm all ready to believe you're fast but... a car, Jongdae.”

Jongdae smiles, and taps on Junmyeon's shoulder, reassuring.

“Stay well hidden,” he tells him, before walking down the roof with easy, careful steps.

Junmyeon's eyes follow Jongdae as the latter sinks deeper into the darkness. The car's lights don't reach the back side of the house, so Jongdae quickly slows down, not wanting to fall off the roof and break his neck. It rained the day before, which makes the roof very slippery, so he uses his hands for balance, always making sure to have a strong grip on the tiles in case he'll trip over. He finally reaches the gutter, and he carefully walks along it to reach the small veranda on the back, and most importantly the overwhelming ivy engulfing it. It has grown so much over the past year that the branches are thick enough to support Jongdae's weight. He goes down as fast as he can, jumping when he reaches the last meter. His feet are barely on the ground that he's already darting off the neighboring house. He can't pop out of the darkness behind this house, it would be like screaming at those idiots that people are inside, so he runs as fast as he can towards the next house.

He peeks around the corner, checking the intruders' positions. They're still aiming at a few bottles on the car's hood, and Jongdae notices that despite the large number of detonations, there must be not more than three broken bottles at their feet. They're just idiots, showoffs who still haven't realised that there's nobody left to impress. Underestimating them though, when Jongdae is alone and only has a gun with him, would be a mistake, most surely deadly.

Jongdae takes in a lungful of air, and finally grabs his small flashlight from one of the tiny pockets on the side of the bag. Crouched down, he walks in front of the house. When he's in position, right under the roof, he jumps on the spot, and adds a loud ooomph to the thud of his faked fall as he turns on his torch.

The men's reactions are fast to come, which is quite impressive considering the amount of alcohol in their veins. They all turn around, their eyes narrowing at Jongdae. The cone of light starting from the car and spreading on the concrete stops a few inches before Jongdae who fidgets, stepping back in the darkness in a submissive gesture. Now that they noticed him, they won't let him get away like that, he knows it, but all he needs is them to believe he's hoping they would.

One of the man steps up, and starts speaking Chinese. Jongdae catches a few words, like boy and no harm, but even without his Chinese notions, he would have understood. He's heard that tone a billions of times, be it in Korean, Chinese or even English. They're trying to be clever, thinking that their little tricks can work on him, and Jongdae mentally snorts.

He recoils when the man walks towards the house, and stretches out his arm before him.

“Leave me alone!” he begs him. “Please!”

The man stops, and his expression turns delighted at the Korean words, which is exactly what Jongdae wanted to. He takes another step back, for good measure, as the man turns towards his friends and says something.

Come on, Jongdae mutters behind gritted teeth. What are you waiting for...

He hasn't forgotten about the Infected who might be running towards them right now, and he doesn't really want to deal with them in the darkness. The men are still sizing him up, their hands on their guns, but they're not moving, and Jongdae internally sighs. Badasses, my ass.

He glances at the width of the street, and tries to measure up the distance between the men and their car. Another glance at the men, still motionless, makes up his mind for him, and adrenaline floods him, setting his muscles alight.

Jongdae darts off, quickly running through the front lawn to finally reach the street, and the Chinese guys finally react. He hears them cursing, screaming at him, but he doesn't slow down as he cuts diagonally the street, aiming for the houses on the other side. Behind him, the engine starts again, and the car doors shut with sharp sounds. Jongdae mentally counts them, one two three four, as his eyes stays glued to the houses before him. The tires scream against the concrecte at the brutal start of the engine, and Jongdae tries not to panic as the car gets closer. He throws himself forward when he finally reaches the sidewalk, and lands harshly on the grass. His right knee hits the concrete, and Jongdae bites back a moan and a curse. He hurries on his feet again as the car uproots the mailbox just next to him.

He jumps over the fence on the back of the house, and uses the precious seconds he gains thanks to the driver having to reverse to check on his knee. He directs the light on it, and breathes out in relief when he doesn't see any blood. With the leg of his pants still rolled up, he starts running again, through the garden of the house.

The car can't reach him there, and his pursuers are forced to stay in the street, in a parallel position to Jongdae's. He keeps his flashlight on, waving it as he runs in purpose, so the Chinese guys won't lose him, and jumps over the fences one by one.

He finally reaches the end of the street though, and the end of the protection of the houses. He stops abruptly in the last garden as the car pulls over behind the last fence, blocking the exit, and Jongdae immediately crouches down, turning off his light with a quick press of the fingers.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he whispers.

He can hear the Chinese men getting out of the car, and his guess is that they're all holding their guns, ready to turn him into a colander. He draws out Soojung's Beretta from his belt, and checks the chamber. There's only a single bullet missing, which means Jongdae has forteen bullets against six men. He's alone though, and even with the chamber full, he wouldn't make it.

“Fuck,” he says another time for good measure, and that's when his eyes fall on a very interesting object.

He takes in the green flowers and the pink ribbons attached to the bike's handlebar and smiles to himself. Luckily for him, he's always liked pink. Not that he would have spat on a bicycle just because of its color anyway.

He puts the gun back in his belt, and quickly makes a run for the bike, hoping that the night will give him the short seconds he needs to get on it and start pedaling. The bike is a little small, but Jongdae is delighted to see that the chain is still in place. He jumps on the seat, and just in time apparently, because one of the Chinese man screams at his friends, and half a second later, bullets are raining on him. Jongdae manages to ride the bike out of the garden though, crouching on the handlebars, and he pedals past the car, and the six Chinese dudes aiming at him.

“Assholes,” Jongdae screams at them, flashing them his middle finger before crouching down again when a bullet whistles dangerously close to his ear.

He hears the leader yell behind him, something that he easily translates as move your asses, followed by the car doors closing again. He'll have a few precious seconds of lead, but once the car will have started again, they'll catch up with him easily. Jongdae grits his teeth, and pedals as fast as he can, ignoring the bump of his knees against the handlebar every two seconds and the burn in his calves. The car is getting closer, and just when he thought things couldn't get worse, one of the Chinese guys starts shooting at him. Jongdae crouches down again, and starts zigzaging as much as he can without losing too much speed. One glance over his shoulders tells him it's not enough though, because the car is now only a few feet behind him, the collision so close. Focusing back on the road before him, Jondgae abruptly turns left, so abruptly actually, that he has to put a foot on the concrete to avoid the fall. Fear explodes in his chest at the concrete getting closer, but he quickly sets the bike back upright, and launches himself on the sidewalk. Carried away by its speed, the car is forced to stay on the road.

Thankfully, the sidewalk isn't cluttered, because the Mist engulfed that part of China, turning people way too fast for them to panic. Which means that there's also a line of cars carefully parked between Jongdae and the Chinese men, and for now, they're the only things that protect him from a collision that would most probably kill him on the spot. For now, all he has to worry about are the bullets, and he quickly understands that all the alcohol the men gulped down is playing in his favor right now, because their aim is terrible.

The end of the street is coming fast though, and Jongdae isn't as confident in his chances. What if he turned around suddenly? But he has to lure them farther away from the house, and turning around, even if he does shake them off eventually, would only bring them back to the street. He really doubts they'd let him go and not search through every house...

Just as Jongdae reaches the ending of the street and braces himself for a possible collision, he hears the tires behind him squeal. The sound, shrill and piercing, is immediately followed by the crash of metal twisting. Jongdae doesn't dare to slow down, but he glances over his shoulder, and what he sees leaves him bewildered. He puts on the brakes so suddenly that the bike skids, and he has to dig his heels in the ground to stop it.

The Chinese men's car has left the road, and is now embed into the cars parked on the side. Its hood, half the size it was before, somehow reminds Jongdae of an accordion. Thick and black smoke is whirling around, slipping through the cracks, and one of the wheels, somehow a few inches above the ground, is still turning in the air. The most surprising though, are the two long arrows buried deep into one of the front tires.

Jongdae looks right and left, eyes narrowing, trying to pierce the darkness around him, but he can't make out a single thing outside of the cone of light still coming from the car's front beams. He doesn't want to linger though, because the crash must have been heard for miles around, not to mention that he's pretty sure one of the Chinese dudes, if not all, is bleeding right now. He turns his bike around, and quickly sits back on it. The sooner he'll be far from that place, the better.

Jongdae has barely pedaled through a couple of meters that he has to stop to turn on his flashlight. In the middle of the night, it feels too much like a huge add announcing a free meal over his head, but it's way too dark to see, and he can't risk a fall. He keeps the flashlight in his shirt to try and soften the light, and ignores the now protesting pain in his knees to pedal as fast as he can towards the house.

He has a clear idea whose arrows they were, and somehow, he's also convinced that Bow-Man won't chase him. After all, he had a few occasions to kill Jongdae already, and it wasn't a murder attempt earlier, but rather the man saving Jongdae's life, he would bet his bottom dollar on it. He's now pretty sure the man means no harm, but the latter has obviously chosen to stay away from Jongdae for whatever reasons. Not knowing where he is right now, or if he's following Jongdae or not is creepy, and far from being reassuring, life savior or not.

For that very reason, Jongdae chooses not to head back to the house right away. He drops his bike in a thicket, and conceals it with a few leaves and branches. He can't help the hair on his neck from sticking out, as the unpleasant sensation of being watched takes over him, clashing on his body with cold sweat. Jongdae turns off his light, and darkness closes its claws around him. He sits down on the grass, at the entrance of the residential zone, and waits for what feels like an eternity.

There's a cuckoo hooting in a tree nearby, and even though Jongdae isn't sure it's the same bird from before, his singing is as hypnotizing. Soon enough, its meaningless syllables turn into the same question, again and again, and Jongdae can only agree. Who, indeed?

In the thick darkness, no one can see him, and Jongdae kind of counted on that to make the man comes nearer, but when it becomes clear that no one will show up, Jongdae silently stands up. He walks to the nearest house, and skirts around it, palming the walls on the back until he finds a few grips. He uses them to climb up the roof, and stays there, lying down the tiles, motionless but on alert. If the man wants to follow him, there's no way Jongdae will makes the job easier for him.

He stays there until the sun rises, eyes wide open and scrutinizing, but he doesn't see anything. He's pretty sure Bow-Man is a very cautious guy, and that wandering through the streets in broad daylight isn't his thing, so Jongdae waits a little more, until the sun is far above his head, overwhelming and so hot on his nape, to finally move. He jumps down the roof, and pressed up against the wall, scans the street before him. Damn, how he hates the sunlight.

Jongdae closes his eyes, and breathes in and out.

Okay, he internally tells himself. Okay. It's just a few meters. The house is so close. You'll get there in no time.

He dashes off before he opens his eyes, fully aware that the sight of the deserted street would make his courage crumble down. He sprints on the sidewalk, his heart thumping loudly in his ears, and with every strides he takes, he's almost sure he hears the Infected alpha's ear-splitting shriek. He reaches the back of the house safely though, and climbs up the ivy so hastily that he almost falls twice. Seulgi is waiting for him on the roof, her eyes wide open, but relief taking over her features, and she doesn't even wait for Jongdae to be completely on the roof to grab him and wrap him in her arms.

“You crazy asshole,” she mutters, and Jongdae can't help the weak chuckle.

She helps him through the bathroom window, and takes him downstairs where everyone welcomes him with warm embraces, and even a kiss on his cheek from Soojung. Even Kyungsoo looks relieved to see him, if the slight smile he throws at him is any indication. In all honesty, Jongdae would even hug him, Kyungsoo's dislike for him or not. He's just so happy to be alive. Yeri clings to his arm, her eyes wet but shaped like crescent moons, and Jongdae lets her, even drags her closer to his side.

Seulgi sits him down, and urges him to tell them everything, which Jongdae does. Or almost does. For whatever reason, he doesn't mention the arrows, and explains the car crash with the alcohol the men had drunk. As for his choice to wait until the sun was out to come back, he calls it safer, smarter. They all nod understandingly, and Jongdae loses track of the conversation, all of his thoughts directed at the man with the bow, and the two arrows, so precise, buried deep in the wheel.

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#449: This is where it splits in half honey, love or death (3/6) →