Chapter II
The Gallows
That split-second halt, the fragment of refuge in her sights- and then she was reeling. It was as if someone had pumped her body with concrete and she'd leapt a thousand feet. The ache gripping her every muscle twisted tighter, and she breathed that much harder. Every jarring step threatened to summon searing bile up her throat. Soiled hands clawing from behind tore the cardigan sleeves down Min's arms. Threads snapped and buttons clacked to the floor as she ripped herself away from it, stumbling onward. She passed classroom after classroom, bared teeth seething against the windows centered in the doors. Everywhere, she was cornered. Upstairs she went, but only to confront cannibals amidst their feasts.
"No!" Min wheezed under her breath, turning to the door next to her in resignation. Footsteps rapidly closed in around her as she slid it open and threw herself inside. She spun around to shove it shut, grimy fingers reaching in through a forced gap. Pushing with every ounce of strength she possessed, an upsurge of shrieks erupted just outside with the squelch of flesh and crunch of bone. As the door clicked shut against the wall, severed digits fell to the ground.
Then there was a whisper. The scuff of tennis shoes against plaster. A rush of wind, or a gasp, and the teacher's desk behind her took off across the room. She whirled around; the legs scraped against the floor until it hit the wall, punctuated by a knotted curtain wound about one of its legs pulling taut. It wasn't quiet, but the lingering moments thereafter felt akin to silence. Min's protest died on her lips, a hand extended towards a ghost. She hadn't so much as seen the ends of their hair, a glimpse of their clothes, but they had said something. It was so soft.
Not a second after, the sliding panels of the indoor windows rattled as something slammed against them. She flinched as there sounded another, and another, fists beating against the wall until a dire scream ripped through the air.
"Fuck!" Min's palms clamped over her ears as she gulped thin, sporadic breaths. Everyone was dying. Everywhere, everyone. Suffering. There was so much pain. On one hand, she wanted to cry, strangle herself with the ungodly sounds that she knew would leave her if she were to let it. On the other, she yearned to follow the ghost. It was a fading desire, but she wouldn't deny that it spoke out.
She stumbled towards the windowsill, following the braided drapery. Eyes trained forward; Min briefly took in the cityscape that stood illustrious beneath a midday sun. Beyond it stretching an expansive blue sky without so much as a wisp of a cloud. You wouldn't think anything amiss, but then below, it wasn't so composed. Peering several stories down, she had a clear visual of the soccer field that reached across almost the entire front of the school. Clusters of ravenous students dotted the view, gorging themselves on what Min could only assume were kids who'd made a run for it. Further below, beleaguered students hastened down concrete walkways with nowhere to go and trailing them were a handful of the lunatics.
One particular rabid hunted after a couple, iron cutters jutting out from their stomach. It did little to hinder their movement, if anything at all. It just bounded forward. The scene was littered with bodies, distance contorting it into a rose-tinted field peppered with psychotic ants. What she thought were corpses refused to stay down. In mere seconds, ravaged figures heaved themselves to their feet, revolving and lumbering about aimlessly until something caught their attention. She knew what had first entered her mind; the undead. It seemed obvious, but she was relating the situation to movies. And that's ridiculous.
She resisted from looking too far down, heart palpitating at the idea of what dangled just under her gaze. Min sucked in a slow, deep breath as she shuffled backwards, holding it for several seconds before exhaling. She must've stood there for 10 minutes, breathing. It didn't help. People were still dying, and she was by herself. Alone, and bleeding.
Glancing down at herself, she took in just how disheveled she was. By itself, the uniform was a disaster. Blood dyed the right portion of her button-up a rich crimson, and red flecks splattered about the rest of the shirt. The hem of the pleated skirt tore, it barely hanging on by her hips. Where the lunatics had grabbed her, smudged handprints remained, their palms wet by previous victims. Her body was a standing death record.
At the state of her skirt, Min opted to forgo it and settle for the sweats she sported underneath. Afterwards, the undergraduate turned her attention towards the throbbing pain in her collarbone. A fresh dribble of blood continued down her front, the cotton material glued against the wound. Her eyes regarded the room, passing over toppled chairs and an assortment of abandoned backpacks. She wondered if it'd be wrong to search them. The chances of the owners coming back were rather slim...-But what did she need, anyway?
With a quick sigh, Min retrieved the torn skirt and fashioned it into some kind of bandage. The wound could be infected. Well, not infected, but reddened, swollen. She'd have to monitor it, but as long as it didn't discolor, she wouldn't worry. It isn't as if she'd make the trek to the nurse's office either way.
She was certainly faring better than others, confined to a classroom. As long as she was quiet and avoided the door, it seemed a viable place to wait for the police. Decided, she sank to the floor below the window, slumping against the wall. An occasional breeze swept along the top of her head, tugging the ends of her hair insistently. Minutes ticked by, 10 more, and then 15, and Min, in a sick, pathetic way, tried to pretend that she wasn't so alone. Fooled herself into being grateful for the corpse and their cleaved ghost who accompanied her, imagining them nestled in her side. One nightmarish hour, and she was already teetering on an all too tempting precipice.
Her head thumped against the wall. What was she supposed to do, now? Compose herself? Just wait? Kids were dying, and she didn't have a fucking phone. One more precious beat of silence, and then a flurry of movement ensued. Her heart lurched in her chest as the door threw itself to the side, a slender figure rushing through. She jumped to her feet, eyes round and hand gripping the windowsill. Instead of being met with a torrent of lunatics, there panted a member of the school's staff with his characteristic gaunt expression. He'd already turned his back to where she paused, and slid the door shut.
"Co... coach Kang?" Her voice barely reached above his laborious breathing. He spun around, black hair clinging to his face with a sheen of sweat. Flickers of fear and relief passed over his eyes, shoulders tensing and sagging as he recognized what stood before him. He blinked, gaze leveling out and skimming the room.
"Are you climbing down?" He inquired with a gasp of breath, finger pointing towards the knotted curtain strewn over the windowsill.
"No, that's...-"
"What?" He tramped across the room, the hem of his two-tone sports jacket bouncing with each stride.
"No!" she intervened; hand raised in deterrence as she stepped into his path. He didn't acknowledge her, nudging her aside to stare down and examine what he thought was a blessed escape. To some, it may be.
"Oh." He grunted. His thin lips curled into a frown as he pushed away from the window with a tired swing of his arms. Min averted his shifting eyes, tentatively shuffling backwards as she withdrew her hand to her chest.
A few long seconds, and then his head turned towards the schoolgirl, "What happened to you?" His voice was high and airy. She couldn't exactly place it, but something about him was off. His words felt like sludge plugging her ears, and every look forced her eyes to the ground with a kind of intensity burning pensively behind his.
Min crossed her arms over her chest self-consciously. "One of the... someone bit me. I don't think it's bad, though."
Then her blood ran cold, and she glanced towards him. A slightly taller gaze bent downwards to stare, traces of interest and fear swirling in his dark orbs. A minute went by, and it was as if one half of the room was swallowing the other.
"You're bitten?" Coach Kang repeated, brows arched, and eyes narrowed into slits. His head cocked to the side, thoughts unfolding in his steely gaze as they ran over her disheveled form, lingering on the wrapping around her shoulder. Min's lips remained pursed shut. Every system in her body halted underneath his scrutiny.
Then his body opened up and his arm rose, index finger jutting towards the door. When the student didn't move, his brows perched high on his face. "Go."
"I don't... I don't think..." She started softly, recoiling as his shoulders and hips shifted to square up to her.
"Who are you to disobey me?" He barked, eyes bulging as a demon ripped through fabricated restraint. Min's eyes darted anxiously towards the door, anticipating the sudden banging of fists against wood and plaster. That split-second pause, he considered, and before she responded, slender fingers snagged her arms.
"Wait, wait!" She pleaded as he dragged her writhing form along the wall. Kang's face screwed into a tight expression- gritted teeth and creased skin- as he pinned her front against the windowsill.
"You're..." Useless words trailed off and his gaze hollowed, the vice grip on Min's arms driving her further out the window until her head hung in the air. She clawed for his skinny forearms, latching on, nails digging into his flesh. Blood pooled beneath her fingers, and that's when he wrenched his arms away, shouting as her nails ripped across his flesh.
She beat his chest with her fists, launching herself forward and shouldering into him again and again.
In a decided motion, his arms enveloped her, grappling her waist and sweeping her legs off of the floor. She fell out of the window with no sound. The air was sandpaper against her skin and rushed furiously through her lungs until it choked her. It was one second, maybe two. Her limbs flailed and a guttural scream bubbled in the pit of her throat. Then she caught something.
She wrapped her arms rigidly around a small figure. Min buried her face into the crook of something soft, limbs wrapped tightly about the familiar shape as they swung from side to side.
"I'm-I'm sorry... I'm so sorry." She stammered; eyes squeezed shut.
"Dammit! Just let go. Monster!"
His voice faded behind the wind, tantalizing sweeps of air filtering through Min's clothes and whispering in her ear. Strands of a stranger's hair brushed against the perch of her left cheek. She braced, eyelashes fluttering against skin to clear her teary vision.
It was a schoolgirl, with a full face and long black hair. A beauty in her own right. Curtain bangs framed chocolate eyes that bulged a little too far out of her head, and a swollen tongue lolled between heart-shaped lips. Min couldn't claim to recognize her. How did she not recognize her?
"I'm..." Min started, eyes locked with the girl who'd saved her, "I'm not one of them." She looked up, trembling, as Coach Kang hunched over, jostling the curtain from above. His eyes didn't so much as twitch, and Min wondered whether he'd heard her at all. He seemed vacant, automated.
"Coach Ka-...!"
Her eyes widened, a flare of bewilderment racing through her head. Peeking from beneath his baggy sleeve, embedded in his skin and oozing puss, was an unmistakable mark. The very thing he so fervently tried to eradicate with her, it condemned him the same.
"You're bitten." She stated. What small amount of enriching justice she felt dissipated at the sight of the man's jarring pause. Then he was reeling, hastily tugging his sleeve over his right wrist. She marveled at the sharp contrast in the teacher's demeanor, his previous callousness all but disappearing amidst human fear.
His voice pitched as he half-shrugged and shook his head, "I'm not." His expression melded into one of panic, staring downwards expectantly as if awaiting confirmation from the person he'd been so hellbent on dropping from the 5th story.
"You're scared of bites." Min spoke plainly.
"I said I'm not!" He shouted; teeth bared.
"... Then why should I die?"
He glowered down at her, clutching his wrist with his other hand. They exchanged no words as Min clung to her enigmatic savior, grasp tightening as the seconds ticked on and beads of sweat collected against the back of her neck.
Finally, coach Kang backed away from the window and out of sight. She bowed her head, heavy breaths racking through her. If he wasn't bitten, would he have dropped her? Untied the curtain and just... Let that be it? It was too close, too easy.
With a feeble exhale, she prepared to climb. Min looped an arm securely around the schoolgirl's neck and with the other, tucked stray hairs behind their ear and adjusted the collar of their shirt. Then she moved, shimming up until she could grab the curtain and pull herself inside. She rolled onto the floor, terror clouding her eyes and pupils dilating until they almost entirely consumed the irises. There she lay for several minutes, heaving, the very tips of her fingers bouncing erratically against the floor.
"We need to find others."
He stalked across the room, halting less than two feet away.
"Get up!"
It wasn't until he bent towards her that Min sat upright. She eyed him, scuttling backwards before rising to her feet. They stared at one another, the coach's shoulders rising and falling in tune with every heave as Min stilled, brows taut and mouth agape. She wouldn't challenge him again, but how could he expect them to venture blindly? It was clear the ratio of the healthy to the sick was wildly disproportionate and actively tilting out of their favor.
"Shouldn't we just... call someone?" Min's eyes flitted towards Coach Kang's white tennis shoes. "Or get out? Tell somebody?"
"You don't think, by now, the police have been called?" His hand wove towards the door, "Why do you think I've been risking my life trying to find you students- ungrateful little... bastards..."
"Now come on." That snide voice wounded around her head like that of a venomous snake, poised to attack at the slightest provocation.
"Did you see where anyone else went?"
Luckily, their classroom was the closest to the stairwell. What's unfortunate is the distance between the stairs and where she knew several students holed up. The corridor was empty at the moment, but it felt twice as long knowing who lay tucked away behind the many ajar doors lining either side of the hallway. It was only an assumption. The sick students could have fled school, but they couldn't afford to count on it.
Min peeked around the corner of the stairs, fingers burrowing into the gaping red and black sleeves that engulfed the vast majority of her hands. It stunk with perspiration, but a bloody top may have raised suspicion, although she wasn't sure it was necessary if they could convince them that the infection rate wasn't 100%. Then again, everyone's afraid, and it puts them on edge. They wouldn't open the door to her before, and she was undeniably human- at least as far as they knew. She supposed she also had a few of the sick ones pretty close to her. What if they couldn't convince them?
Something sharp prodded the small of her back. "Hey! Is it clear?"
Min nodded, flattening her hand and lowering it towards the ground as she crept out of the stairwell. She crouched against the wall to their right, sparing a glimpse towards the gym teacher, waiting tensely until he saddled up next to her.
After bringing a finger to her lips, she mouthed, "Stay."
Crawling forward with a ducked head, she paused just before the first classroom door ahead of them. She glanced over her shoulder, a little relieved to find the back of Kang's head and his eyes guarding the stairwell. When he turned back in her direction, she pointed from her eyes to the open door.
With that, she inched towards it and peered inside with as narrow a sliver of vision as she could manage. It was terrifying just how silent it was when so many of them idled there. At least a dozen students stood, wrists and fingers twitching, chins jutting out every couple of seconds. They didn't make a sound, and neither could she and Kang. She watched as they occasionally shuffled around a couple of steps, dragging the soles of their shoes along the ground. Time had never been such an intangible thing.
When she was confident enough, the sick student's backs and sides facing the doorway, Min held her breath. She stepped out as far across as she could with one stretch of her leg, palms planted on the floor. Kang hovered in her peripheral, mouth open and hand prompting her to go further. With a slow draw of her other leg, Min ducked against the wall on the other side, releasing a slow, deliberate breath. She watched intently as the coach checked the classroom, shoulders rising and falling with every heave of his chest.
He scuttled halfway in front of the opening, and then halted. His head dipped towards the floor, jerking to the side with a sickening crackle. Min gnawed the inside of her cheek, stepping away from the wall to spare a split-second look into the classroom. The bloodied students remained in their bored stupor while Kang hunched over, forehead pressed against the floor.
Returning to shoulder the wall, Min leant forward, reaching to tap the back of the coach's balled fists. His eyes snapped up, pulled as wide as they could physically achieve.
"Come."
Sweat trickled down the sides of his face as he pulled himself forward, his limbs taut and moving like rusted machinery. She scooted a couple of feet to the side, eyes flitting up and down his form before shifting her attention to their next crossing. The classroom they needed to reach was three more doors down and on the opposite wall.
"Are you-" A slick hand clamped against her mouth. She stilled.
Kang's humid breath spat in her ear between gritted teeth. His chilled palm pushed against her mouth, fingers digging into her cheeks as if he were going to tear away the lower half of her face. They sat that way for what felt like minutes, Min's eyes trained down the hallway. When his hand finally fell from her lips, she buried her face against her sleeve, straining to silence ragged breathing.
She looked up, searching the coach's expression for something- anything, but he moved on, silently leading the pair across the next few doorways. Her heart thrummed vehemently in her chest and the intrusive desire to shove the man into one of the neighboring classrooms found its place in the back of her mind. He behaved so bizarrely, swinging between cooperation and kindling violence. Even now, he seemed anticipatory, leering eyes flicking her way any moment she looked elsewhere. She'd almost rather face the sick than her teacher's lapsing outbursts. Almost.
They crouched across from the survivor's classroom. It was still quiet. The hallway, aside from the two of them, was deserted. An outsider might think the entire school was abandoned. What a chilling thought. If the police came now, with no warning or preparation, would they even be equipped to confront the situation?
The teacher rose to his full stature, Min following suit, albeit with a slightly slumped posture and a dipped chin. He peered through the glass of the door, eyes flitting up and down the hallway before tapping the center of the glass with his index finger. Muffled voices came from inside. Another debate, Min presumed, and a cold sweat coated the palms of her hands. Kang's head swiveled from side to side, brows furrowing as he began waving his hands in front of the glass.
Through the window, Min's gaze jumped between students- Juniors. Joon-Yeong, a bespectacled academic who she wasn't surprised to see had made it, and another next to him, Woo-jin, with his small, square face. It wasn't until her eyes met that of a taller boy that she felt anything other than the fear that's driven her so far. Some amount of hope, relief, and a rush of betrayal.
A second later, the door slid open.
"Everything" - Broken Valentine