Seoul Subway Line 4

The early afternoon light had a deceptive calm over the ruined city. Emerging cautiously from the apartment, Jiwoo and Eunji moved silently through the debris-strewn streets. In the days following their decision to leave the relative safety of their barricaded room, Jiwoo had discovered a peculiar pattern: the infected, which roamed the streets like ghosts, were few during the day. Their numbers dwindled in the harsh glare of daylight, forcing them instead to hide in the shadows of crumbling buildings and dark alleys. This knowledge became their silent guide.

They walked side by side, every step deliberate, every footfall measured to avoid creating even the smallest sound. The urban decay around them was a graveyard of memories—a silent reminder of a world lost to chaos. Broken glass, abandoned vehicles, and crumbling storefronts punctuated their path. Still, it was the quiet that unnerved them the most, for in that quiet lurked danger, waiting for the slightest sound to awaken it.

Their destination was the nearby convenience store. It had been scouted during one of Jiwoo's solitary wanderings, a place where he had once spotted a cache of useful supplies. With a quick glance around, they slipped into the store, collecting canned goods, water, and a few other essential items. Jiwoo carefully stashed everything into his pack. Their plan was simple: gather supplies, then start their journey to Seongnam City.

As they retraced their steps, however, the atmosphere shifted. In the distance, a low murmur of voices and shuffling feet caught their attention. A group of tugs—unsavory survivors known to roam in packs—had been seen earlier, and now their presence loomed ahead like a dark cloud. The risk of confrontation was too high; these groups were unpredictable, and even a brief skirmish could spiral into chaos.

"We have to avoid them," Jiwoo murmured, eyes narrowing as he studied the horizon. Eunji's face, set in a determined frown, confirmed his thought. The military shelter rumored to be in Seongnam, roughly 17 miles away, promised safety in numbers—a refuge from both the infected and desperate human predators.

"But the streets here," Eunji replied, "they lead straight to them. We need another way."

Jiwoo's gaze drifted to the entrance of an old subway station—Seoul Subway Line 4, its signage barely legible in the peeling light. The subway, however, presented its own dangers. The underground was pitch dark, and its passageways could easily hide lurking threats. Yet, it was a controlled environment where they could avoid open streets and the unpredictable groups above.

"We use the subway," Jiwoo decided. "It's our best shot to bypass that group."

Eunji hesitated for a moment, her eyes scanning the dark entrance. "It's too dark down there, and we can't afford to use our gun. Too much noise could draw the infected to us."

Jiwoo nodded, adjusting the katana on his back. "We move silently. I won't use the AR-15 in there—it'd give us away. We rely on close combat if necessary." His tone was steady, resolute. Eunji's dagger glinted briefly as she shifted her grip, a silent promise to stand by him.

Stealthily, they descended into the depths of the abandoned subway station. The train platforms were dark and silent; the hum of electricity long faded into a ghostly stillness. They advanced along the platform, their footsteps barely making a sound on the cracked tiles. The silence was oppressive, every shadow a potential ambush.

Since the train wasn't running, their only way forward was on foot along the train tracks. The corridors were narrow and lined with the rusted skeletons of what once were lively commuter routes. Jiwoo led the way, his katana ready, his eyes ever alert. Eunji followed close behind, her dagger at the ready. The dim glow of emergency lights cast eerie shapes along the walls, turning every crevice into a potential hiding spot for danger.

As they traversed the length of the platform, a faint sound caught their attention—a soft shuffling, then a stifled groan. Ahead, around a bend in the tracks, two infected emerged from the darkness. The first moved slowly, almost obliviously, its head bent as if searching for something. The second was slightly behind, its movements hesitant at first.

In the split second before the second creature could notice, Jiwoo sprang into action. Moving with a fluid, almost practiced grace, he advanced silently toward the first infected. With a swift, decisive motion, he unsheathed his katana and severed its head from its body. The sound—a dull thud as the head hit the concrete—echoed briefly in the tunnel.

The second infected reacted immediately. A guttural growl erupted from its throat, and it charged forward with a speed that belied its decayed form. Its heavy, stumbling gait turned into a full sprint, driven by a primal instinct that was all too human. The noise of the first creature's fall had alerted the rest. Within moments, a dozen more infected emerged from the shadows, drawn by the commotion.

Realizing the imminent danger, Jiwoo grabbed Eunji's arm and pulled her back. "Run!" he shouted, his voice barely more than a whisper yet laden with urgency.

They bolted back toward the subway station entrance, the clamor of the approaching horde growing louder with every heartbeat. The tunnel, once a path of quiet desolation, now reverberated with the cacophony of groans, shuffles, and guttural roars. Jiwoo led the sprint, his katana held tight against his back, the AR-15 left silent in his pack. Eunji followed, her dagger clutched in her hand, each step a desperate bid for survival.

Bursting through the station door, they found refuge inside a derelict train car. The car was dimly lit by flickering overhead lights, a temporary sanctuary against the chaos outside. They slammed the door shut, barricading it with whatever debris they could muster. For several heartbeats, the only sound was their heavy breathing, mingling with the distant, maddening sounds of the infected outside.

"Are you okay?" Jiwoo asked, his voice strained as he checked over Eunji.

She nodded, though her eyes were wide with lingering fear. "We need to wait until the horde passes," she said. "It's too risky to make a run for it in the open right now."

They huddled together in the cramped space, listening as the ruckus outside slowly receded. The infected, as Jiwoo had observed before, were more active under the cover of darkness. It was daytime now, and while the chaos was still present, the numbers had lessened. The temporary lull gave them a moment to catch their breath and regroup.

Time passed slowly. The flickering light of the train car cast ghostly shadows, mirroring the uncertainty of their future. In whispered conversation, they reviewed their plan. The subway, though fraught with dangers of its own, remained their best bet to traverse the city undetected. Eunji's earlier suggestion had proven correct—running through the open streets would only lead them into more peril.

Eventually, the chaos outside waned, and the horde's presence became less imminent. Gasping for breath and with adrenaline still coursing through their veins, Jiwoo and Eunji cautiously emerged from the train car. The silence that greeted them was heavy and laden with anticipation. They knew that every moment of calm was temporary, a brief pause in a relentless battle for survival.

With a renewed sense of urgency, they resumed their journey along the darkened subway tracks.

With a renewed sense of urgency, they resumed their journey along the darkened subway tracks. Their plan was simple yet perilous: use the underground labyrinth of Seoul Subway Line 4 as a conduit to reach Seongnam City. The route promised a measure of stealth, but it was also shrouded in darkness, with every step fraught with the potential for ambush.

Jiwoo led the way, his senses on high alert. His katana was at the ready, and his eyes scanned every inch of the tunnel. Eunji's presence at his side was a quiet comfort, her dagger glinting in the faint light. They moved in near silence, aware that the slightest noise could spell disaster.

Their journey through the underground was a test of resolve. The abandoned tracks stretched out before them like a desolate pathway into oblivion. The echo of their footsteps mingled with the distant drip of water and the occasional metallic clang, a grim symphony to their struggle.

The end of the chapter.