Marauder of the Apocalypse
Chapter 137: Flames

The wait was long. There was nothing to do while hiding in bushes or abandoned cars. Since we were spread out for the ambush, I had to pass the time alone.

I sat in the back seat of a car, slumped like the corpses in the front. The driver and passenger were still strapped in their seat belts, dead.

'Did they die in a traffic accident when this all started?'

The bodies were nearly skeletal. Their masks and coats had already been looted, leaving them lightly dressed. The glove compartment hung open.

The windows were broken, and somehow the trunk was popped open.

'Did the driver turn into a zombie while driving? Or was it really an accident?'

As I wrote scenarios about how they might have died, I sighed lightly and rolled my eyes.

The stream looked desolate, almost eerie. Yet somehow it remained relatively clean without human maintenance. Dried reeds grew in moderate thickness along its banks.

The walking paths were different. The bicycle paths and walkways were covered with dirt, overgrown with weeds. Even the benches were in the same condition.

"Kreeaaak..."

A zombie limping on one leg approached, dunked its head in the shallow water, and drank. Sometimes people came with several plastic bottles or canteens dangling from their bodies. Sometimes someone would wade down into the stream to check fishing traps.

One person lifted their trap up to check the catch, sighed deeply, and trudged away dejectedly.

People and zombies looked similar these days.

Both were thin from malnutrition, their movements lacking strength.

'Life is similar for everyone.'

Nothing more to see. I closed my eyes and completely relaxed. Better to rest. When the townhouse flies showed up, my companions would signal, and then I'd move.

I don't know how much time passed. The light filtering through my eyelids turned red. The sun was setting, painting the sky with twilight.

It was almost time for the townhouse flies to approach.

Just as I was about to move again, I heard footsteps approaching. The sound of a single person. The footsteps stopped outside the window where I was.

"What? Why is there an intact corpse... Oh."

I opened my eyes, but all I saw was someone's back as they shook a plastic bottle and ran away.

'What? Who was that?'

I blinked in confusion, then frantically grabbed my rifle. I burst out of the car, practically breaking the door, and raised my voice.

"Stop, stop. Move and I'll shoot!"

The fleeing person's steps abruptly halted. They slowly turned around, sighed, and immediately turned their pockets inside out.

"I have nothing. Really."

"Come here. Follow me."

They didn't look like a townhouse person. But a townhouse person might see this scene and run away, so I dragged the stranger to a corner where a truck had overturned.

In the deep shadows, I questioned the survivor.

"Where are you from?"

"Around here. And you seem new to the area... You're one of the people who attacked the townhouse. I heard someone had moved in there."

That was obvious from looking at my gun.

I thought for a moment, then lightly waved my rifle.

"Get on your knees. Answer a few questions and I'll let you go."

"Alright. But isn't this crossing a line, doing this by the water? Everyone stays peaceful by the stream."

"That's why no one charges for water, right? Charging for water would be crossing the line."

The survivor obediently lowered himself, tilted his head, and muttered.

"If not water fees, then why here... Oh. You're looking for the townhouse people?"

His mind worked quickly. No wonder he ran when he saw me. Good that I didn't need to explain. I nodded, and the survivor spoke.

"Those people showed up with pistols from somewhere. They don't seem to have a permanent place, but they come here for water. I've run into them a few times."

"Good. Then help me with something."

"As bait? A distraction?"

The survivor nodded and slowly stood up.

"That much, I can do..."

"I don't have a reward for you right now, but I'll share some of what we get from capturing them."

I'd found someone surprisingly useful, worth recruiting for this operation.

I lowered my rifle slightly and asked casually.

"Why did you run away immediately? You don't know me, do you?"

"Anything unusual is obviously bait. I couldn't see your gun, but the corpses next to you were skeletons while you looked perfectly fine. And those clothes."

The survivor pointed at my leather jacket.

"It's getting cold, so people take clothes off corpses. There's no way a leather jacket like that would still be there."

His powers of observation were impressive, almost on Park Yang-gun's level.

I thought for a moment, then continued in a low voice.

"How many survivors are around the townhouse? Especially those armed with guns."

"I don't know much about the townhouse area, but there are a decent number around here. Some have guns, but nobody has ammunition."

The survivor, apparently having lived here for some time, explained the situation in detail.

The local police station personnel had been infected early in the outbreak and all turned into zombies. A few local survivors had raided the police armory.

But those who raided the armory were attacked by zombies, and others who used the guns recklessly fell victim to arson by other survivors...

"The ammunition caught fire and exploded like crazy. There might be some lost firearms around, but this isn't a world where people can conserve bullets enough for ammunition to last until now."

So this area had its own chaos. It seemed that violent conflicts had been common everywhere.

Just then, the survivor pointed discretely at a building.

"I'll hide in that building, then come out when those people arrive."

"Let's go together."

"Ah."

The survivor let out a disappointed sigh and slowly walked ahead, shaking his plastic bottle. He probably would have run if I hadn't followed.

***

I waited in the building, conversing with the survivor. We watched through the window as we spoke.

"Is water scarce?"

"What isn't scarce these days? But it's enough to sustain life, so that's something. Actually, food is the bigger problem."

The survivor spoke in a somber voice.

"You used to be able to find kimchi and rice when entering homes, but even that's reaching its limit. Pretty much every apartment and villa has its front door open now."

Homes had become treasure chests. Houses with open doors were treasure chests already passed through by someone else.

"Even if the door is closed, someone's already entered through a window, looted it, and left. Now it's all down to luck. Whether you find food that day or not."

Either randomly finding food someone missed while searching houses, or gambling on finding something in abandoned delivery trucks on the streets.

I sighed, empathizing with his sentiment.

"Can we survive the winter...?"

"I'd like to, but it seems difficult."

Raiding is indeed the answer. Since people are alive because they have food, capturing living people means acquiring food too.

Farming was hampered by typhoons and famine, fishing was difficult due to drought. Winter was a season that produced nothing on its own.

Hunting wasn't viable in the city either. There weren't many animals around. No livestock in large numbers. Even pigeons were limited, and the mountains didn't have enough game to feed many people.

Just then, the survivor lowered his body.

"They're here."

"Go out first... And don't run away."

Suspecting he might flee behind the building, I added the warning. The survivor flinched. He smiled awkwardly and replied.

"I won't run. Just don't shoot while I'm out there. I don't want to die from a stray bullet."

"There won't be any shooting."

We could intimidate them with threats. Why start a gunfight? Besides, these flies needed to be kept alive to be useful.

After the survivor left, I watched him head toward the stream before slowly following.

Soon the stream came into view. People were gathered by the water, talking. The survivor made exaggerated hand gestures to draw the flies' attention while saying something, and the flies responded with a few words.

"If you're short on food, why not catch pigeons? Pigeons are excellent. No matter how many you catch, they never seem to decrease!"

"No, can't do it."

"If not pigeons, then catch ducks. I sometimes see ducks at the stream."

One of the flies sighed heavily while waving a pistol.

"I don't have the skill to hit something like that."

"With a pistol, you could hunt dogs or cats. They seem to have multiplied from eating human corpses."

"Dogs travel in packs. They're terrifying."

By this point, I had approached from behind them. Since I made no sound, they hadn't noticed me.

I grinned and cocked my rifle with a click.

"Dogs are scary but I'm not?"

"What?"

The flies jumped in surprise and turned around. Simultaneously, my companions emerged from their hiding places. Sa Gi-hyeok came out from the bushes, shaking himself, while Jeon Do-hyung and Park Yang-gun descended from across the water.

"On your knees, hands up. Throw your guns far away."

The survivor who had served as bait moved quickly, perceptive as ever. Like an informant, he was the first to kneel.

"I surrender. I have nothing."

"I'm not interested in you. Step back."

"Yes, yes."

The survivor immediately fled.

In contrast, the flies froze momentarily before drawing their pistols with clicking sounds.

"We have guns too!"

"Our guns are bigger, aren't they? And we have more bullets."

I moved my rifle to aim at one man. Information from the previous betrayer.

"We have an informant too. Mr. Cho Young-seok? Your companion told us everything. Your personal details, this stream you visit, your deals with the alliance, everything."

"Who..."

Distrust suddenly wedged between them. Their gazes, which had been fixed on me, scattered as they looked at each other. Consciously or not, they stepped away from each other.

This atmosphere filled with distrust and suspicion. Perfect. Park Yang-gun seemed to smile faintly.

"Isn't it too late to find the traitor? Just drop your guns quietly."

"That's right. Drop your guns first. If we wanted to kill you, we wouldn't have shown ourselves like this. We would have shot from a distance."

The flies shook their heads repeatedly while gripping their pistols tightly.

"No. We can't drop our guns. Let's talk first. What's your purpose?"

"Simple. The alliance. We want to use you to cause some damage to the alliance."

There was much to gain by using these people. We could divert some of the alliance's resources, spread false information, or learn about the alliance's movements.