Chapter Text
Beep! Beep! Beeeep!
The unceasingly annoying sound of the overzealous alarm woke up groggy Jisung, disrupting, according to the clock that read 5:15 am, just under four hours of sleep. The grouchy young man rolled over to his side, hand sweeping through his messy bead hair. Pulling on a pair of worn joggers that had been discarded on the floor the evening before, Jisung stumbled to the kitchen, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
“Good morning Channie-hyung,” mumbled the younger, startling Chan, who was engrossed in his computer, typing away with an empty coffee mug to the right of him.
“Good morning, Sungie,” the elder replied, dark circles under his eyes indicating that he had been up all night again. “Big day today, huh?”
“Yeah, I guess,” answered Jisung, as he went about preparing his breakfast under the harsh glow of the fluorescent lights of the bunker. “The equipment is already all packed, so I’ll be ready to go as soon as I finish this mush and get dressed.” Today was his turn to venture to the Surface to scout for any potential sign of life, as well as scavenge as many resources as possible.
The desolate piece of land that housed the bunker where Chan and Jisung had lived for the last four years had been destroyed by radiation after the outbreak of a horrendous war that had wiped out most of the world’s population.
“Hyung, how long do you think we’ll need to keep doing this? I mean, we are almost self-sufficient at this point, so I don’t see a reason why I need to keep going up so often,” Jisung asked, the question hanging heavy in the air. This was an argument that the two had already had numerous times.
“Jisung,” Chan sighed, a weariness that transcended physical fatigue in his voice, “You know why. We need to hope that one day we will find others.”
“It’s been four years, Chan!” Jisung's frustration bubbled to the surface.
“So? Does that mean we need to abandon all hope? Besides, there are still some things we need from the Surface.”
“Don’t you think if the others had survived, they would have tried to contact us?”
“I don’t know Jisung! I don’t know any more than you, we are literally in the same situation!” He pleaded.
“You’ve been sending out radio signals for years!”
“Nobody has answered yet! But maybe someday -”
“There's no 'maybe someday'!” Jisung's voice rose, desperation and anger intertwining. “Why do you keep holding onto this hope? He's gone, Chan! They're all gone, and they're not coming back! Why do you keep trying?” The vulnerability in Jisung’s tone stopped the other mid-sentence.
“You know why.”
“He’s gone, Chan,” he repeated, desperation in his tone.
“Don’t say that!” Chan's plea was visceral, as if denying the inevitable could somehow change the truth.
“There is no point in pretending!” Jisung's voice cracked, a mix of frustration and sorrow, “You will need to acknowledge it soon,”
Silence hung heavy in the air at that last comment. Chris stood stunned, watching as Jisung stormed out of the room, not bothering to look back at him. With a sigh and heavy heart, Chan mechanically clean up Jisung’s breakfast and returned the headphones to his ears, blasting music that would hopefully drown out his thoughts.
***
The anger Jisung was feeling quickly simmered down to guilt as he replayed the argument with Chan in his head. The last year or so, Chan had gotten more frustrated and upset about the lack of any form of communication or movement from the other bunkers that had been built in an emergency just before the start of the war.
Before everything had gone to shit, Chan’s honorary brother, Felix, honorary because he had been the neighbour’s kid but had practically grown up in Chan’s house, had somehow managed to send him the message that he had made it to a bunker. Since then, however, no sign of life had ever been discovered despite Chan and Jisung’s relentless searching, and Jisung could only believe that Felix and whoever else had been in the bunker with him were dead.
“It’s not like denying it will do him any good,” muttered Jisung, as he pulled on his well-used cargos, long sleeved shirt that had probably once been white but was now a dark grey, and lacing up his surprisingly still adequate boots. He checked his equipment once over before sliding on a flimsy leather jacket, slinging his backpack on and tucking his gun in the holster that hung around his waist.
“I’m going up now, Chan,” he said, still seathing from the earlier fight, grabbing his dusty scarf and tattered gloves as he walked past the other to the first of two sets of concrete doors separating him from the Surface.
“You have your gun, right?”
“Yup,” Jisung answered curtly, punching in the passcode, not sparing a look for the older.
“Be safe!” was the last thing he heard before the large doors slammed shut behind him, leaving him alone in the dark stairway leading up, lit by sole light bulbs every couple flights of stairs.
Jisung sighed as he started making the long climb to the surface, “And of course it has to be me doing all the hard work.” This was unfair to Chan, who had been gravely injured on one of their first trips up to the Surface after a rabid group of dogs had seen him as a potential source of food.
The older man was left with a nice set of scars on his hips and torso, and an uncooperative leg that refused to do anything but limp.
Letting Chan help Jisung scavenge would simply be foolish, as it would make it much more difficult for Chan to protect himself from wild animals and the occasional survivor they would stumble across that, more often than not, would be content to bash their heads in for the food and weapons they were carrying. Chan would simply be a liability.
Jisung knew this, of course, but the simmering anger and frustration allowed him to ignore the fact for a little while.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity of never ending stairs, the small red bulb that lived over the entrance of the bunker could be seen blinking in the distance.
The young man, out of breath from the unceasing stairs, took a second to collect himself before pulling on his gloves and diligently wrapping the scarf around his head and face.
Taking one last deep breath, he punched in the second passcode and waited for the loud grinding of concrete against concrete and the squeaking mechanism from the door to stop. The sudden 6:30 a.m. light from the Surface had Jisung pulling on his goggles in a frenzy to allow his eyes to adjust to the scorching light and heat, not uncommon despite the early hour of the morning.
The insufferable heat and orange dust in the air immediately reached his lungs, and breathing became a much harder task.
Stepping outside and briefly waiting to make sure the door closed and locked behind him, Jisung set off into the desert wasteland and to the ruined city, not even visible over the horizon.
***
Jisung had been gone for less than an hour when Chan resumed his post by the surveillance cameras and radio equipment. The set-up with nine monitors, a radar and radio machine was his pride and joy and took most of his time during the day.
After his injury stopped him from going out to scavenge with Jisung, Chris had done his best to find activities that would fill his time and help them live well. As such, he had become the technician of the both, as well as the cook and cultivator of the bunker, doing his best to keep the couple of fruit and vegetable plants alive and producing food for the two.
Although those tasks were plenty, Chris often found himself bored and more than a little lonely when Jisung was out on the Surface, but the hope that a potential radio signal would reach them kept him firmly in place in front of the computer.
Because of this, Chan settled down comfortably, ready to wait out the 15 odd hours until Sungie would be back, some time between eight and nine pm, the agreed upon time. This plan had been established after one of Jisung’s first solo expedition, created to help calm Chan’s nerves of not being able to contact him.
The younger of the two had forgotten to keep track of time, too immersed in his scavenging, to realise that Chan was having a near panic attack when he had not returned by midnight, so the system had been implemented to prevent such things from reoccurring, and to spare Chan from any more grey hair.
***
Thankfully for Jisung, the majority of the trek to the big city could be made walking on the dusty and cracked asphalt of the highway, weaving in an out between long abandoned cars. This also meant that every so often, a stray gas station could provide a brief shelter for Jisung, and if he was lucky, the occasional snack that had not yet been snatched up by him on previous trips or other living organisms that had passed before him.
This is where he found himself now: a little stop station, just about three hours away from the bunker. The windows of the shop had already been smashed in, littering the floor with little shards of glittering glass.
Jisung sat down after wiping away the glass shards on the floor with a gloved hand, back against the old cash register. He gently peeled his scarf away from his face, crusted sand and dust falling out from the little pockets created by the fabric. The condensation of his breath on the cloth had created little patches where the sand stayed stuck. Lifting his water bottle to his mouth, Jisung went over his list of what he needed to find when he got to the city.
“Channie hyung said to bring back plasters and antiseptics, so I should probably head to the hospital after I’ve found a good amount of canned food, batteries and spare clothes or fabric” planned the young man. Both of the men’s clothes were starting to really be threadbare, and their wardrobes would soon have to be switched out completely for newer cloths.
After a dozen of minutes sitting on the floor, Jisung finally mustered up the courage to stand up and continue on his way. His muscles protested as he dragged himself up, slinging his bag over his shoulder and securing the scarf around his face once more.
“Only two more hours until I’m in the city!” he encouraged himself. It was moments like this where he missed the small day-to-day inventions used before the war. What he would give up to be able to listen to music while walking…
***
The city appearing in the distance renewed Jisung’s energy and motivation to continue, watching as the once tall skyscrapers grew bigger as he approached the city. However, as always, as soon as he neared the first buildings, he immediately grew cautious and observant of his surroundings.
If he were to encounter anyone, they would most likely be in the city, as it was the easiest way to acquire all necessities needed for survival. And meeting people in these times was never a good thing.
Chan and Jisung had learned the hard way that they were either after their food or their equipment, and had therefore resorted to avoiding people at all costs when in the city.
Arriving at the first promising supermarket, Jisung quickly scanned the area before carefully stepping over the shattered sliding doors of the supermarket. What made Jisung such an excellent scavenger was his impressive ability to move completely quietly, without being noticed.
Wasting no time, Jisung walked straight to the aisle indicating ‘non-perishables’, the sign being held up from only one corner. Pleasantly surprised, Jisung discovered that, although not as stocked as it could have been, there was still a decent amount of canned foods left on the shelves.
“Well, that makes things easy,” mumbled Jisung, placing his bag on the floor, wasting no time to grab the cans. Opting for the more filling foods, the bag was quickly filled with cans of beans, chowder soup, and the best of all, he spotted a few cans of spam from the corner of his eye. The cans still looked intact, and Jisung could not help but be thrilled at his stroke of luck. He also grabbed two big bags of flour, opening them first to check that they were decent.
As a treat for both him and Chan, he also grabbed two packs of what had been their favourite candy before the war. After all, it’s not like they really needed the food, it's just that it was nice to have a little bit of variety in meal choices.
His last walk through the shop unfortunately revealed that it did not have any non-food items, but the disappointment did not diminish his excitement over his previous find that had been so extremely rare. And on top of that, he had managed to find two good rolls of toilet paper that had been left in the staff bathroom.
Checking the worn wristwatch he wore on his left wrist, the time indicating that it was barely twenty past twelve, Jisung released a sigh, relieved that, if he calculated correctly and had to leave the city at four, he still had just over three and a half hours left before he had to be on his way.
Deciding the supermarket was a good place as any, Jisung sat down on a chair left behind the cash register and took out his lunch from a side pocket on his bag. His lunched consisted of a very simple chunk of bread, with an apple on the side and a couple of somewhat sad looking carrots.
At that moment, Jisung felt extremely grateful that Chris had figured out how to make bread, as he wasn’t sure if he would have been able to live off of just fruits and vegetables.
The walk around the shop had also ensured that there was no one else besides Jisung, so he had no qualms about taking off the scarf and gloves to enjoy his meal.
Once done, he efficiently packed everything away and left, the bag considerably heavier than it had been previously. As Sungie exited the building, a road sign indicating the hospital caught his attention.
“Well, guess I’m going there next, then!”
The road signs were his god sends because otherwise there would not have been a chance in hell that Jisung would have successfully found the building. The hospital was in poor condition, blending in seamlessly with the other crumbling buildings surrounding it. The only thing indicating the building was a medical centre was the faded red cross hanging perilously above the entrance. And if Jisung thought the empty city was creepy, it was nothing compared to the weird feeling he got entering through the ER doors.
“Now where the fuck should I start looking for these things?” Jisung sighed, unfamiliar with the layout of the hospital.
“Surely the ER would have everything I need, right?” The young man moved past the reception and waiting area straight to the main room with all the beds and abandoned machinery. Overall, the building seemed to be in pretty good shape for having been abandoned for so long, despite the crumbling concrete and layers of packed dirt laying on the floor, hiding the original tiling.
As soon as he stepped through those swinging doors, Jisung froze, feeling a sense of dread creep over him. Something was wrong. Something was definitely wrong, but nothing out of the ordinary could be seen.
Scanning the area for any signs of threats, Jisung recognised the feeling. Someone was watching him. The only problem was that he could not see anyone, and a wave of unease crashed over him.
“I should just get what I need and leave as soon as possible,” he thought, scurrying quickly around the room.
On a rolling cart pushed to the side of the room, Jisung could see bandages and gauze, still wrapped in their sterile plastics. He quickly grabbed what he needed, noticing a nearly full bottle of hydrogen peroxide and another of iodine.
The feeling of being watched never left him, but he continued searching through the equipment boxes nonetheless for anything else that might be useful to Chan.
Suddenly, a faint cough filled the eerie silence, followed by a movement and shuffle of clothes. Jisung stood straight up, eyes going wide as he reached for his gun.
“Who’s there!” he asked the seemingly empty room. “Show yourself!”
“Please don’t hurt me,” a weak voice answered. Jisung spun around, gun pointing to that side of the room, eyes searching for the person belonging to the voice.
“Show yourself!” he repeated.
His eyes snapped to a pile of rags in the corner of the room, watching intently as the fabric rustled, revealing a dirty face.
“Who are you?” He asked, gun trained on the figure.