Episode 9: Coke

[TV News Broadcast]

(On-screen caption) Footage from Gangneung Coffee Street

"...Don't bite! I said don't bite! Aaargh—!"

The camera shakes, the focus blurs.

The screams cut off with a sharp snap.

"The footage is believed to be from Coffee Street in Gangneung. The citizens shown are exhibiting violent behavior toward each other, with some clearly attempting to bite. This video is rapidly spreading across social media…"

**

My heart pounded like a waterfall.

My breath came fast, shallow.

Even so, I couldn't make a sound.

Every movement I made was calculated, cautious—one slow step back.

Tension coursed through my veins like fire.

My whole body froze like stone.

I looked around for cover, but there was nothing to conceal my body.

Should I go back?

The moment I had that thought, my tension loosened slightly with a wave of relief.

The figure had only shifted in its sleep.

Uncomfortable with the position, it rolled back into place.

…Seeing that made it seem even more human.

Could it be that these things needed sleep—or something like it?

Everything so far pointed to that possibility.

If that's true, it might improve our chances of escape.

It might allow us to create favorable conditions.

There was no point in staying any longer.

I turned around slowly, my steps melting into the darkness.

As I moved forward, the silence became more distinct—as if only I existed in motion.

That's when it happened.

Splash—

A tiny noise. But in this stillness, it sounded like thunder.

The silence shattered.

I felt the presence of all nearby figures moving at once.

Their attention turned. I could feel it like heat on my skin.

I glanced around.

Not all of them moved with certainty—some began slowly, as if unsure where the sound had come from.

I quickly crouched into the shadows.

Had I been seen?

My eyes fell to the form lying just ahead of me.

Still no movement.

Then—

Footsteps.

Clearly audible now, and growing louder.

I sprinted toward the pension at full speed.

Behind me, the sounds multiplied—more footsteps, and then—

A cacophony of grotesque human noises filled the night.

The sounds came from every direction.

This time, I was definitely discovered.

My radio crackled.

"Sir, several people are chasing something."

I know. That's me.

The perimeter guard was doing his job.

There was no time to reply.

The barriers came into view.

"They're heading your way!"

I veered sharply.

If I went back the way I came, I'd lead them straight to the safehouse.

A convenience store came into view—the one where we'd taken chairs and tables.

I prayed the door was open.

Pouring every last ounce of strength into my legs, I ran like it was the last sprint of my life.

"They've changed direction. Moving away from the pension."

The radio kept chattering.

The relief in the guard's voice confirmed it—I was drawing them away.

The store's entrance was clear—no debris, no barricade.

Just a straight line to the door.

We had cleared it earlier.

But that also meant there was nothing to stop them, either.

I reached out, desperate.

Ding-a-ling—

The wind chime on the door rang.

The lock was off.

I spotted a broom by the door and wedged it between the two handles.

Finally, I could breathe.

But only for a moment.

They hadn't given up.

Silhouettes appeared beyond the glass.

Dozens of palms and foggy breath pressed against the windows.

The glass screamed under pressure—creeeak, creeeak.

It wouldn't hold long.

I had to hide. Or escape again.

No time to rest.

"Guhhh—"

A chilling sound.

Inside, a man in a convenience store vest stood near the back.

His eyes were vacant. Blood trickled from his ankle.

Judging by his condition, he must've been injured during the initial chaos.

His mouth was clean—a small relief.

…That relief shattered instantly.

He limped toward me, baring his teeth.

He was a big man, up close.

I grabbed anything I could and hurled it at him—products from nearby shelves.

Crack—

A dreadful noise from the glass. Not much time left.

Outnumbered.

The broom wouldn't hold them back forever.

I had to take him down. And hide.

No time for hesitation.

I didn't dodge—I ran straight at him.

He reached out, aiming for my neck.

I ducked and drove a fist into his gut.

It had no effect.

He grabbed me anyway.

His open mouth lunged for my face.

I couldn't get bitten.

With desperation, I raised my head sharply—headbutting him in what I guessed was the chin.

His grip loosened slightly.

If I missed this chance, I'd be torn apart.

I kicked his injured leg with everything I had.

Pain shot through my foot—I was barefoot.

Saying you "don't feel pain" in these situations is a lie.

It hurt.

But it worked.

He released me and staggered in the direction of his wounded leg.

Then he began to scream.

"RAAAARGH—!"

There was agony in his voice.

He lay there, unable to stand—for now.

That gap was my one chance.

Crack—

The glass shrieked again, now visibly fractured.

I scoured the store.

Near the fridge, a small secondary door.

Barely visible. Easy to miss.

As I ran for it, a thought struck me—

I opened the fridge and grabbed two canned drinks.

Just then—CRASH!

They broke through.

Several of them screamed all at once—high-pitched, gut-wrenching.

I burst out the back door and sprinted toward the pension.

There were fewer people in the alley behind the store.

The darkness felt oddly comforting.

The streetlights felt like enemies.

I stayed to the shadows, moving silently.

I hurled one of the cans in the opposite direction—far away.

Even just one second of distraction could help.

Thud—clink—

Not a sharp noise. But it echoed through the night.

It would work. They were more sensitive to sound at night—probably.

I wanted to throw the other can, but I was running out of time.

I gripped it tightly. No unnecessary sounds.

I reached the pension perimeter.

No radio chatter this time.

But Sergeant Yoo was waiting.

He didn't say a word. Just opened the entrance.

Relief nearly choked me.

The joy of survival surged through my body.

All my senses felt heightened.

That's when I felt the pain in my feet again.

As we met eyes in the dark, I saw suspicion and concern on his face.

A flicker of caution, even.

With his back to the entrance, he spoke—as if to block my way.

"Were you bitten?"

His eyes scanned me up and down.

Oddly, that made me trust him even more.

I smirked slightly and said,

"Let's go inside."

I didn't answer his question directly.

But it was answer enough.

He gave a short nod.

"Thank goodness."

He let his guard down and walked behind me, covering the rear.

My boots were neatly placed by the stairs.

I picked them up and began to climb.

I glanced at him.

"How'd you know I was out there?"

An abrupt question.

"I heard the radio."

A vague answer—but it was enough.

He'd heard it. He'd come to check.

Reliable, as always.

On the stairs, I looked at the can in my hand.

It was coke.

I offered it to him.

"Want a drink?"

"I'm good."

His polite refusal actually made me happy.

Pssshhh—

I popped the can.

It fizzed and overflowed in my hand.

The cold bubbled down to my wrist.

A pleasant stickiness.

Normally, I'd hate that feeling—but tonight, it felt sweet.

At this moment, everything was good.

I took a swig.

Cool and fizzy—it sent chills through my whole body.

The best cider of my life.

That moment ended abruptly with a ring.

Rrrring—

The room phone.

Why was that ringing?

The display read "0401."

Maybe they needed help?

I picked up the receiver.

"Hello?"

"…What the hell are you?!"

The voice trembled.

I couldn't tell if it was fear or fury.

"Don't—!"

Another voice, shouting in the background.

"I said don't!!"

Then—

Clunk—

The receiver slammed down on the other end.