this is where it splits in half honey, love or death (grab an end, pull hard and make a wish) [5/12]

[januarys_lovers]

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.

After what happened, Seulgi decides that it would be safer to watch the street in pair. She also wordlessly promotes Jongdae by giving him back his machete, and even asking him to go on the roof with Soojung, which Jongdae had never been allowed to do before. It suddenly makes the risk of his little expedition less important, because in exchange of the possibility of him dying, Jongdae has gained Seulgi's complete trust, so much that she's now counting on him to protect the people she loves. What he did was stupid and reckless, and Jongdae shouldn't feel proud, but he knows he still does, deep down. He saved Jongin's friends, all of them, and sure, it doesn't make up for what he did to Jongin, but when he falls asleep now, Jongdae feels a little less like he owes him. The uneasiness of being with his friends when Jongin can't be doesn't really go though, nor does the guilt, but Jongdae was kind of expecting that.

He's losing himself in the palette of yellow and blue in the distance as being perched up on the roof gives him a certain sense of security that allows him to actually learn how to enjoy the daylight and its brightness again. It's a fragile certainty though, a weak feeling that can easily be swept away with the slightest noise, but for now, Jongdae pretends he can simply let his eyes run over the nature slowly entering the city. He wonders what the surface of the Earth will look like in twenty years, and if there'll be someone left to witness it. Jongin would have been a great witness. He would have found beauty in the most terrible sights, even if it has to include the last traces of humanity slowly fading away under knotted roots.

Soojung sighs next to him, slightly shifting so the sun won't reach her neck. She unties her hair, letting the long strands fall on her back to protect the delicate skin of her nape. She glances at Jongdae with knitted eyebrows.

“It's dangerous,” she says.

“What? The sun?”

Soojung shakes her head, and points at the city spreading out at their feet.

“This. We've been there for too long already. The thing with the Smashers two days ago should have been our cue to get the fuck out of here.”

Jongdae slightly smiles at the name. Smashers actually summarizes it all pretty well. It was invented by Yeri, as she told him when he came back from the mad dash against the Chinese men. Smasher refers to all those Immune who drive through the country at top speed, and laugh out loud, drunk on the feeling of breaking laws of a world that doesn't even exist anymore. They usually end up embed into walls, trees, the shock so violent that the Infected attracted by the ferrous smell lick more than they bite. Sometimes though, they crash against other Immunes, and the twisted cars turn into a morbid barrier reef in the middle of the road. The Smashers, and the Smashed.

Jongdae glances at the city, squinting his eyes as the sun reflects on the few glasses left on the buildings.

“You're waiting for your friend,” he tells Soojung.

She doesn't answer, but she throws him a heavy look that Jondgae understands perfectly well. Stomach knotted, he looks away.

“Jongin is fast,” Soojung says. “Faster than all of us, and we were late when we came here. He should have been there. It's been eighteen days since we lost him. I'm betting he never got out of that forest.”

Jongdae wants to tell her Jongin did. He got out, and he actually reached the city. He was braver than what she seems to think, but he can't really contradict her. Instead, he thinks about Jongin, with his long legs and his ability to be so fast, and how he actually slowed down a few times to make sure Jongdae wouldn't lose him, even if they were being chased.

“The thing is,” Soojung keeps going. “They've lost so many significant others when the Infected attacked us that day, and I know they were all hoping Jongin would still be alive, and I did too. But now...” she trails off.

“Significant others?”

Soojung nods.

“Suhyun lost her big brother. Chanhyuk was a sweetheart, but he didn't make it. Seokjin, the boy whose appendix burst out, was Taehyung's best friend. Junmyeon lost Minho, and Kyungsoo, Ryeowook. We also lost Joohyun. She was Seulgi's girlfriend. It was tough, because she literally threw herself at the Infected so Suhyun could run away.”

Jongdae freezes as Jongin's words come back to hit him at full power. His friends really are different people, but now that he has the proof, he really can't see how Jongin could have consider him as a good person. They're so much better than him, they would even sacrifice themselves to save their friends. He had always been so clear with Jongin, if it meant him risking his own life, he'd leave Jongin behind. Jongin probably didn't believe him though, he was a dreamer, he walked with his head thrown back at night, and he was expecting from Jongdae the same things he's been used too from his friends.

Yeri's fried noodles start moving in Jongdae's stomach as his thoughts border dangerously on what Jongin must have felt in that very short second before he hit the ground, when he realised that Jongdae was not a good person.

“I'm sorry,” he whispers softly, not daring to meet Soojung's eyes.

“It's okay,” she answers with her usual detached tone. She's so realistic that sometimes she appears like she doesn't care. Jongdae wouldn't bet on that though. “I mean, we all loved Joohyun. She was leading us with Seulgi, you know? She had a flail and a sword.” Soojung pauses, then lets out a faint chuckle. “Her and Seulgi were in a museum when things went crazy, so they took what they could to stay alive.”

“Oh, so they knew each other from before?” Jongdae asks, his curiosity's grip on him way too strong now to keep quiet.

Soojung nods.

“They looked like they had spent most of their lives together, to be honest. It's really hard for Seulgi, but she's holding it together for us. The only thing she has left of Joohyun is that ugly key chain attached to her belt, with that tiny pink shoe.”

Soojung sighs, deflating as she does, and she slowly shakes her head.

“We all needed Jongin to be alive,” she concludes.

“I'm sorry,” Jongdae repeats.

Soojung looks at him, and upon seeing his dark face, she playfully shoves him, waiting for him to look up to flash him a tiny smile.

“Don't be,” she says. “It was on the immunity contract I guess. The world is going down in flames, and we're bound to get burned.”

Jongdae watches her, her soft looking lips and her eyes, so easy to read and complex to understand at the same time, and he can't help but think that they're both alike, somehow. She clashes against the rest of her friends, not as optimistic, but not as afraid. She knows exactly what the world is made of now, and she doesn't hold any vain hopes. She just survives, because it's the only thing left to do. Kyungsoo is like that too, in a more discreet way though. Or maybe it's just because he barely said ten sentences to Jongdae since the latter joined their group. Despite it all, he knows Soojung isn't there just because it's convenient to have people around, but because she genuinely cares about them. She doesn't seem to think they'll survive though, as if she was already preparing herself to the pending deaths of her friends. Jongdae has no idea how she does it.

“Have you lost someone too that day?” he finally asks her, but Soojung snorts and shakes her head.

“Nope. No significant others for me, I make sure of that.”

It's Jongdae's turn to smile as she winks at him, full of mischief. He was about to answer with a proud yeah me too, but then Yeri's face flooded his mind, and he found himself tongue-tied. She's so young, so small, and despite her resolve, she's not cut out to live in this world. None of them are, actually, but Yeri... She's like Jongin, she should have lived in a better world, but since she obviously can't, Jongdae will have to protect her. He'll have to do for her what he didn't do for Jongin. He's aware that it's not the exact definition of significant other, not like Soojung is intending it anyway, but it still could lead him to his end.

Jongdae is trying to come up with a face for that Joohyun girl, lost deep in his thoughts as he thinks about the courage she must have had to gather to do what she did, when a shrill voice breaks the silence. Soojung and Jongdae immediately crouch down, pressing themselves against the tiles as a cloud of birds fly away, chirping with protest at the sudden interruption in their routine. Soojung and Jongdae exchange a look as the scream resounds again. The voice is hoarse, dry, not totally animal, but not human either, and they both know what it means.

Soojung presses her index finger against her lips, and Jongdae nods. He takes the stick next to him, and quickly knocks on the roof with it. Soojung slightly lifts herself up, shifting her balance on her elbows so she can take another look at the streeet.

“Maybe we should go back inside the house,” she whispers to Jongdae.

Just as the latter is about to answer, the creature is shrilling again, only this time much closer. Jongdae grabs Soojung by her hair, it being the first thing his fingers closed around, and forces her down again. She winces in pain, but keeps her mouth shut. Jongdae can see in her eyes that she's coming to the same conclusion than him: the Infected coming closer to them can't be a coincidence.

Silence draws out. Jongdae catches from the edge of his vision the flock of birds whirling around in the air, turning around and finally plunging back in the trees. He can't hear the Infected anymore, but he doesn't dare to move, and Soojung is just as motionless next to him. Danger is thick around them, and the top of the roof, that has offered them a nice hiding place until then, suddenly becomes a curse as it blocks the view over a large part of the street. Jongdae closes his eyes to focus on his ears, and lets darkness engulf him. Most of the time, he can't count on his eyes anyway, not when he only travels by night, and he's learned to trust his other senses, like his hearing. Luckily for him, the Infected aren't usually discreet, unless they're on a hunt. Jongdae really hopes they're not, because they're too close, way too close to not end up as the Infected's new preys.

It feels like hours before Soojung starts moving again, but from the slow and regular ticking of his watch, Jongdae knows it hasn't been much than a few minutes. He cracks an eye open just in time to see Soojung crawling to the top of the roof to take a quick peek.

“Soojung,” he hisses in a whisper-like voice.

She looks over her shoulder, and slowly shrugs. Jongdae's protests quickly die in the back of his throat as Soojung crawls over the last few inches. He watches her, heart thumping in his temples, as she hauls herself up, millimeter after millimeter. The world is back to being silent around them, but Jongdae can't shake the feeling that it's a trick, that even Mother Earth is playing with them, pulling invisible cords, and against Mother Earth, they can't win.

He leans in, and reaches out. Fingers hovering Soojung's skinny ankle, he tenses his muscles and presses his other hand on the floor for balance, all ready to pull Soojung back at the slightest sound. She looks over her shoulder again, and flashes Jongdae a brief grateful smile when she catches his fingers close to her feet. After a last inhalation, she finally turns around, and peeks above the roof. Jongdae's hand automatically closes around her ankle, his fingers digging into Soojung's delicate skin as he holds his breath.

“There's nothing,” Soojung says, confused. She straightens up, shifting on her hands and knees and looks down. “Nothing,” she repeats, glancing at Jongdae.

The pressure weighing down on Jongdae fades away almost immediately as he finally breathes out. Soojung looks at him, smiling, relief flooding her face. She was obviously expecting the worst, just like Jongdae, and the latter decides to take a look as well, the sudden fear he felt earlier now asking hungrily for the same overwhelming relief than Soojung's feeling.

Just when he shifts his weight on his knees, so he can use his hands on the tiles, he catches a movement from the edge of his vision. Turning around mindlessly, and expecting nothing more than a bird -a big one like a crow- his blood freezes when he sees an Infected climbing on the roof of the neighboring house. Jongdae's eyes fall on suppurating wounds, dirty hair glued to yellowish skin by dried blood, and chapped, gnawed lips. There's a loud scream of horror echoing in Jongdae's head, piercing his eardrums from the inside when he recognizes the kaki pants and the red sneaker on the right foot while the left is naked.

Frozen in fear, all Jongdae can do is pray that Soojung won't talk, or move, because if the alpha is there, his pack isn't far. He's currently sniffing the air around him, fingers like claws rythmically clenching around thin air. He moves like every Infected does, but to Jongdae, it looks so much scarrier when it's that Infected. There's really nothing much left of his past life as a human, not even the gestures, because they're sharp and sudden, so sudden actually that Jongdae wonders how his neck is still not broken with how quick he is turning his head. He somehow looks like a bird with his fast reflexes, and despite the chiseled line of his emaciated body, he moves silently, gracefully. In all honesty, Jongdae had never seen something that scary before, and even now that he's witnessed plenty of horrors, the alpha firmly planting his feet on the roof and throwing back his head to scream is by far the most frightening sight he's ever came across.

The scream is inhuman, the voice rasping, and it ends a gurgle that reminds Jongdae of the foaming greenish liquid weeping from the Infected's wounds. He grabs Soojung's ankle just as she startles and lets out a gasp, and pulls her back so violently that she hits her chin against the tiles. He throws himself backwards, head first, and winces when his body crashes through the opened bathroom window, but his pained moan dies in the back of his throat when the air gets knocked out of his lungs as he lands on the bathroom's tiled floor. Soojung's body follows suit, and her jutting hipbones feel like daggers stabbing Jongdae when she falls on top of him. She doesn't move away though, instead grabbing her Beretta and aiming it at the window in front of them.

Jongdae presses a hand over his mouth to muffle the distressed breathy sounds as he gasps for air. Soojung shifts slightly so her shoulder blades aren't digging in Jongdae's chest anymore, but it still takes him a few terribly long seconds to finally breathe in. With the first lungful of air, Jongdae blinks away the tears gathered in his eyes because of the visceral fear of being asphyxiated, and slides his own hand towards his machete, not daring to pull it away with Soojung lying on top of him.

Outside, the Infected alpha screams again, this time shorter but more high-pitched, even bordering on ultrasounds. Jongdae can feel the shiver running down Soojung's body as the rest of the pack errupts in groans and moans. Jongdae understands with horror that they're all climbing up the roof of the neighboring house. He's used roofs to run away from packs so often before, and they never followed, as if they were afraid of heights, and it kind of gave him a sense of security. Those Infected don't even sound like they're hunting down a prey, and if they got up on that roof just because they could, with no ulterior motive, it's even scarier.

Soojung breathes in deeply above him. Jongdae slightly brushes her hip, hoping that she'll get the message and move away to let him grab his blade without hurting her. Luckily for him, she does, and she even makes sure not to move too much, this way remaining completely silent. She curves her body, Jongdae takes his machete, and she takes back her spot, her gun still aimed at the window above them.

There's a loud bump that has both of them startling, but Jongdae is quicker to react. He reaches out with his free hand and fixes Soojung's aim, making sure her Beretta is still directed at the window. The bump is followed by a few others above their heads. They echo through the now completely silent house, and thunder above their heads. The Infected have jumped on their roof, and from the sound of it, they're now exploring it. The bathroom is under the eaves, which means that its window is hidden from view, unless you walk down this side of the roof, but Jongdae isn't expecting any miracle. He has a bad feeling they're more than eight, as if the alpha had recruited more monsters, and sooner or later, one of them will see the window.

Being so sure of it brings an odd calm that fills him from head to toes. He can't waste the precious minutes left before they finally attack on hoping, and the fatality has him focusing on any possible solutions. He considers the window, two times wider than high, and realises it might be their best protection for now. Two Infected can't go through it at the same time, which mean Jongdae and Soojung should be able to take them down one after the other. The rest of the house will have to keep quiet though, because if the Infected suspect the presence of other humans inside, they'll suddenly get very interested in the remaining windows, and Jongdae wouldn't bet his life on the shutters. If they manage to kill them all, they'll have to leave the house pretty fast, because the blood will irremediably attract more and more Infected. He's not sure how many bullets Soojung has in her Beretta, but he knows they can't face all the Infected in the city.

Someone is hobbling right abover their heads now, and Jongdae braces himself for the upcoming attack. He hears a distinct groan above the mass of gurgles and moans, one that gets closer and closer until two feet land on the tiles spreading out just before the window. The muscles in Soojung's arms tense, but Jongdae stop her before she shoots. It doesn't look like the Infected has seen them, otherwise he would already be wriggling through the window with high-pitched and very hungry screams. All they can see now are two dirty legs, covered with scratches and more or less deep wounds. The larger one, a wound so deep Jongdae can see the Achilles tendon and even make out the green foam gnawing the skin covered in pus, carries a putrid smell that has Soojung gaging. Jongdae presses his free hand over her mouth and burries his own nose in her hair, eyes watering at how acrid the air is becoming.

The Infected walks on the roof, but never really leaves the flat overhang in front of the window. He never crouches down once, nor seems to notice the window. Soon, Soojung's arms start shaking with the effort of holding up the gun, and Jongdae wraps his fingers around her elbow to try and help her. His own body is protesting with waves of pain at her body still lying on top of him, but they both know they can't move. Soojung, noticing his discomfort, slightly shifts so her body can follow Jongdae's silhouette a little more, and it has Jongdae almost tearing up with relief when her pointy hipbone stops digging in his lower stomach.

The pack is still walking on the roof, still screaming and groaning, but minutes pass by, and slowly, hours. The Infected paces up and down before the bathroom window, and soon enough, the air becomes unbreathable, toxic. Soojung starts sweating above him, her body heat rising against Jongdae, and he ends up putting his machete on the tiled floor to reach out and close his hands around Soojung's. She's now shaking so much that her aim regularly misses the window, and Jongdae does his best to help her. Her Beretta is their only chance to survive if the Infected suddenly attacks, and the slightest second of inatention could end them in the blink of an eye.

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