Walking Daddy

Side Story 5: Stories of Russia (5)

The Russian survivors huddled together in the corner of the rooftop, shuddering with a fear they had never experienced before.

I took a tally of how many survivors there were. There were two adult men, two women, and five children, which was the same number of people as when I first appeared on the rooftop. It seemed like no one had fallen prey to the zombies. I wondered if the group was made up of two families with their children.

They were speaking to me in Russian, but I had absolutely no clue what they were saying. However, it didn’t seem like they were thanking me; perhaps they were telling me to go away?

After eyeing them for a moment, I approached the zombie that Do Han-Sol's underling was holding. I grabbed the underling’s arm.

“Let go,” I commanded.

The stage-one mutant’s eyes rolled about in their sockets, but it refused to obey my commands. That made sense, since it was under Do Han-Sol’s command, and not mine. Left with no choice, I grabbed its huge left hand and broke its fingers to release the zombie trapped in its grip.

This zombie had jumped up to the roof of a four-story high supermarket in one leap. It was probably not any normal zombie. Just like I’d thought, it was a zombie with red eyes. It stared into my eyes with a confused look, its red eyes flashing.

“Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“...!!”

The zombie shouted something in Russian. I had a feeling that it was swearing at me, but I wasn’t a hundred percent sure. However, I was certain of one thing.

This zombie had eaten a human brain.

I could tell it was trying to say something aloud, even though we were speaking different languages. But then, I wondered if it would be possible to communicate with it telepathically. I looked the zombie right in the eyes and repeated my question.

'Can you hear me?’

‘...! …?’

I guess I’d expected too much. All I could hear was more Russian. With that, my little experiment was over, and it was time to get down to business. Without the slightest hesitation, I tore off the zombie’s limbs and peered at its teeth.

The zombie was a weakling with human teeth. It began to scream and struggle the moment I tore its limbs off, as if it was the first time it had happened. I snorted at how puny and weak this zombie was.

“What are you so surprised about? You’re not going to die, you bastard,” I said.

I knew that if I killed it here, its brain would lose any effectiveness long before I returned to the laboratory. I had no choice but to drag it back to the laboratory alive. Even before I went back to the laboratory, though, I had to find out where their underlings were, and see if they had any comrades as well. In case it had comrades… Just keeping it alive would pose a threat to our laboratory.

I didn’t want to bring a Trojan Horse into the laboratory.

With that, I decided to camp overnight to confirm if this zombie had any comrades.

* * *

After taking care of the zombie wave, I returned to the rooftop, wiping away the blood on my face with my sleeve. The survivors were still huddled in the corner of the rooftop, sharing their warmth to keep the cold at bay.

I had no clue what to do because I couldn’t communicate with them. I cleared my throat lightly and walked toward them. As I approached, the survivors groaned and cowered even more. After a moment, a man with a shaggy beard drew a hunting knife from his side and pointed it at me, threatening me. His hand was trembling madly, as if he was about to lose it.

I wasn’t sure what to do. I knew better than to get closer to them just to get stabbed. Of course, getting stabbed wasn’t the part that worried me. Rather, I was worried that it would scupper any chances of forming any sort of relationship with them.

I scratched my head and headed for the emergency exit. I went into the supermarket and searched every nook and cranny to see if there were any snacks or food to eat. However, the supermarket had been thoroughly looted, and there was nothing resembling food left.

Then, all of a sudden, some lollipops on the shelves caught my eye. I realized they were just what I needed. I knew that kids loved lollipops, no matter where in the world they came from. With that, I grabbed a handful of them and went back up to the rooftop.

The man holding the hunting knife was judging how far it was from the building next to us. At first, I wondered if he was trying to jump over to the next building, but when I thought about it again, I knew that it would be nothing but a suicidal attempt for a human being, since it seemed like it was at least four meters away.

The man seemed to sense my presence again. He wrapped both hands around the hilt of his knife, and threatened me with it again.

I was amazed that he was still so wary of me. It made sense from a survivor’s perspective, since it was only natural to be wary of me, but from my point of view, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of grief.

I showed him the lollipops I had in my hand. The man seemed to hesitate, just like he did when we first met. I could tell he was having a hard time comprehending what was going on. He looked back and forth between my face and the candy in my hand, I gestured toward the children behind him with my chin, and offered him the candy.

The man took several cautious steps toward me and snatched the candy from my hand. He passed the children the candy one by one, and said something to me in Russian. I ignored what he said because I couldn’t understand him, choosing instead to look at the children enjoying the candy with a gentle, pleased smile on my face.

At that moment, the man with the hunting knife blurted something out in English.

"Who are you?”

I couldn’t understand why he hadn’t spoken in English right away, since he knew how to speak English. When it came to his question, though, I couldn’t think of a proper answer.

I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to describe myself. I no longer had to—or could—call myself part of the rescue team. I rubbed my neck and tried a different approach.

“I’m here because I have business to take care of in Russia.”

“Business? Where are you from?”

“Korea.”

“Which Korea? South or North?”

“South Korea."

I never could understand why foreigners always asked which Korea I was from whenever I told them I was from Korea. I could tell that he was still wary of me, but when I mentioned South Korea, the woman with the tangled-up hair, who was with the children, spoke up.

"South Korea? K-Pop! I know K-Pop. I like South Korea and South Korean culture. Kimchi!"

She laughed awkwardly as she tried her best to communicate with her poor grasp of English. When I looked at her face, my heart ached. I could tell from her face that she was desperate for my help. She was trying to flatter me, trying to get me to empathize with her. She was doing everything she could do to survive.

My expression grew bitter when I realized what was going on.

“There’s no need to flatter me. I have no intention of killing anyone.”

With that, I stopped speaking and sat down on the ground. When I turned around and looked at the zombie with red eyes, it looked back at me, limbless, with eyes full of fear. Its regeneration seemed really slow, probably because it was still a zombie with human teeth. When I looked back at the survivors, the man with the hunting knife asked me a question.

"Why… Why did you save us?”

“Because I saw the children,” I answered immediately and honestly.

“...”

To be frank, if I hadn’t known that there were children on the rooftop… I would have just ignored them. When I offered my answer, though, the man let go of his knife and sat down, as if relieved by my honest answer. Perhaps he felt that I was not a threat now, and that he was going to make it out alive.

After a moment, his eyes reddened, and he covered his face with his hands, crying silently.

"Thank you…” he croaked, his voice barely audible.

I looked at the man and sighed.

"It’s getting cold. Let’s go inside.”

“...”

“The children are going to catch a cold.”

* * *

We spoke at length in the supermarket. The survivors informed me of the situation in Primorsky Krai. I learned that this group of survivors came from a small village in the north. They’d constantly been wandering in search of food, and eventually came to a big city for their safety.

They probably assumed that people would have survived in the bigger cities, and that there would still be some vestige of civilization, perhaps under the protection of the military. However, their hope had probably turned to despair once they found out what had really happened, and by then, it was too late to turn back.

They told me that they’d arrived in Ussuriysk about a month ago. The cold made it impossible for them to travel long distances, and they had run out of food as well. That’s when they came across the deer, which I’d seen them hunt down earlier. For some reason, I felt sad thinking about how much they must have smiled after finally taking down that deer, having been without food for so long.

They probably never expected that deer to land them in such danger. The zombies had probably picked up the scent of the animal’s blood while the survivors were gutting the deer to cook it. It was probably the same smell of blood that had tickled my nose during my trek north in search of a red-eyed zombie.

My sense of smell was a lot keener than that of the street zombies, so I couldn’t help but constantly sniffle at the lingering smell of blood.

The man with the shaggy beard asked me a question.

“So, the business you were talking about earlier… What kind of business do you have in Russia?”

“Hmm…”

I wasn’t sure if I wanted to tell them the truth, or even if I should. I grew worried when I considered that they perhaps wanted to follow me back to the laboratory.

My doubt must have been evident on my face, since the man grimaced.

“Is it something difficult for you to bring up?” he asked.

It wasn’t, really. It wasn’t difficult to mention, nor something to bring up or to brag about. However, I wasn’t sure if I could refuse them if they asked to stay at the laboratory as well. Not knowing what to say, I examined his face. There seemed to be no ill will behind his question. He was asking out of pure curiosity.

I let out a sigh.

“There’s a research institute in Russia,” I said. “They’re working on vaccines and treatments.”

“Are you a researcher?”

“I’m not. Perhaps the best way to put it is that I’m taking on the role of the military for them.”

The man chuckled.

"The military? Did the Russian military get wiped out or something?” he asked.

I returned his gaze calmly, and his smile began to fade away.

“The Russian… The Russian army was wiped out?”

“As far as I know, they’ve been wiped out. Of course, I don’t know the situation in Moscow.”

“...”

I wasn’t even sure about the state of the military in the United States, the country that had the best military in the world. I would have been utterly surprised if any of the countries in the world were doing okay. After a moment, the man rested his face in his hands.

"Umm… Not to be rude or anything… But is there enough food in the laboratory?” he asked.

I knew it. I knew that this question would come up. My expression soured, and the man chuckled nervously.

“I don’t want much,” he said. “Can you just take our kids?”

“...”

"Hmm… Maybe that’s too much to ask for. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable. My apologies.”

“You’re going to leave your children with me? Someone you only met today? If you leave your children with me, you'll never see them again. Unconditional trust is dangerous, you know.”

“This isn’t about trust. I just know that, at the very least, the monsters outside won’t be able to kill the children if they’re with you.”

I frowned.

"You didn’t consider the possibility of me attacking the children, did you?” I asked.

Instead of looking worried, the man smiled.

“You really think a guy who gives children candy would kill children?” he replied. “I've never heard of a killer who does that.”

“...”

"I don't think you're a bad guy."

I cleared my throat and looked away.

“Just the fact that a zombie saved people is strange enough, but if the reason they did so was to save children… That makes it difficult to see them as just a zombie, don’t you think?” said the man with a forced smile.

“...”

"I think you're more human than the other fucking humans that I’ve met while wandering about."

I sighed, feeling confused. He knew my weakness. He had me right where he wanted me, and I couldn’t find it in me to refuse him this favor. Being soft-hearted when children were involved…I was pretty sure that any parent with children would feel the same way that I was feeling.

I smacked my lips. “I was just…”

GRRR!!!!

A thunderous cry came from outside the window. The Russian survivors froze instantly, and I hurried up to the rooftop. I ran to the railing at the edge of the rooftop and looked toward the source of the sound, and my jaw dropped to the ground.

There were well over two thousand red zombies filling up the plaza, their eyes fixed on my position. In front of the sea of zombies were three red-eyed zombies, looking right at me.

Three of them, with two thousand underlings.

I couldn't help but smile when I saw them.

I knew these red-eyed zombies had comrades.

My prize had shown up on its own.

* * *

I jumped down immediately and approached the red-eyed zombies. When they saw my face, they raised their eyebrows and began to talk among themselves in Russian. After that, they looked me up and down with a sneer on their faces. They seemed to know nothing about zombies with blue eyes.

They seemed so sure of themselves, but it was a case of teaching a fish how to swim. Since I didn’t have any information about them yet, though, I asked them calmly, "What brings you here?”

“Oh, an Asian speaking English.”

This was the first thing they said. After that, they mimicked my awkward English pronunciation and started smirking among themselves.

That was when I realized there was no need to ask them any more questions. The way they acted reminded me of the saying, ‘Little wit in the head makes much work for the feet.’ I was grateful that they’d shown me early on what terrible people they were.

I smirked, and they looked at me disapprovingly, with condescension in their eyes. They smiled to reveal their sharpened, yellow teeth.

‘So they’ve graduated from human teeth, huh?’

I assumed that they were telling me not to feel arrogant just because I’d taken down one of their weakest comrades. At least, that seemed to be the case. After a moment, the one on the left shoved his dirty face toward me.

“Repeat after me. Repeat after me. I’m fucking Asian,” he mocked.

I couldn't believe how arrogant they were. I couldn’t tell if this guy was genuinely stupid, or if he just wasn’t educated enough. His racist comments were neverending.

I’d had enough of this bullshit. My blue eyes flashed as I strengthened my right arm. I closed the distance between us like a bullet fired from a muzzle, and exploded the guy’s face before any of them could do anything.

Pow!!

The racist died in a matter of seconds. The other two zombies were utterly bewildered. It seemed like they couldn’t believe what they’d just witnessed. It was a pity that I couldn’t eat the fallen zombie’s brain, but I justified it by telling myself that it was better off not eating a brain full of crap like that one.

“You don’t need your brains anyway. No?”

I couldn’t help but smirk as I tore off their limbs in an instant.

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