Chapter 41

Now that I think about it, I was lucky.

On the day the pandemic began, I returned home exhausted, took off my makeup, and immediately fell into bed, falling asleep before I knew it. I had put my smartphone on silent mode and even turned off the volume for emergency alerts, which had been noisy even during small earthquakes recently.

That’s why I didn’t realize what was happening outside.

I woke up in the middle of the night because I had gone to bed at an odd hour. To wake myself up, I opened the window leading to the balcony. The view outside, even at this hour, was unusually crowded with people. Many of them were staggering, and quite a few were walking in the middle of the road as if nothing was wrong.

As I wondered about this, a scream echoed from a distance. Suddenly, I was chilled to the bone, and my drowsiness vanished. I realized how abnormal the scene was and quietly closed the window and the curtains.

When I checked the anonymous bulletin board I usually look at on my smartphone, I saw a long list of threads with terrifying content, mentioning zombies and other horrors.

I don’t have a TV at home. Gathering information online, I learned that this wasn’t a joke or something else but was actually happening right now.

I immediately called my family in the countryside. The call didn’t go through. Even when I tried again, the result was the same.

I tried contacting them via chat tools and email, and after a while, I received a reply. It seemed everyone was safe, which was a relief.

Next, I tried to contact my senior, but I never received a response.

My senior had been absent from work without any communication since the beginning of the week. Something must have happened. Even so, not being able to reach anyone during such a time was alarming!

I tried contacting friends from university and my hometown, but the responses were mixed. It seemed that more responses came from my hometown friends. I hoped everyone was safe.

The emergency alert advised going to a designated evacuation center, but even if I had decided to go, it was probably too dangerous outside now. I had no choice but to stay locked in my apartment.

How long would this chaos last? Surely the police or someone would resolve it. Otherwise, I would be stuck here, unable to go outside.

Would I have enough food? I should have cooked for myself. If I had, I could have held out for a while longer.

Opening the refrigerator, I saw the half-priced bento I had bought for today and the bread for tomorrow’s breakfast, sitting there alone. I bit my lip tightly.

+++++

I had slept through the emergency alert and, foolishly, turned down the volume, which is why I didn’t realize what was happening and couldn’t move to an evacuation center. However, the next day, I learned that this had actually saved my life.

The evacuation centers were in terrible condition. I don’t know if it’s true, but according to online reports, many of them had collapsed by nightfall.

Some were overrun by infected people. In others, the infection had spread from within because someone had already been bitten.

There were many posts on bulletin boards and social media from survivors who had fled to the upper floors of school buildings.

It was like a real-life zombie movie. I never thought something like this could happen in reality.

If I had gone to an evacuation center, I would have been one of the first to join them. Or, given the state outside, I might not have even made it to the evacuation center.

In any case, my foolishness had saved my life.

+++++

I was gathering information online. Or rather, that was about all I could do. The streets were overrun by them, and there was no sign of this situation resolving itself anytime soon.

I couldn’t get through to the police, and even if I tried to call for help online, there were many similar posts, making it difficult for the authorities to know where to start. I did write my personal information and the location of my apartment on social media, but even if help came, I didn’t know when my turn would be.

I still hadn’t heard back from my senior. While exchanging emails with my family and browsing the internet, I found a post.

It was about an evacuation center. Apparently, the nearby city hall and police station had been opened as new evacuation centers. However, it mentioned that you needed to be able to climb a rope ladder.

It might be tough for the elderly or children, but I could manage; I was confident in my physical strength. However, it wasn’t right next door. How would I get there?

There was only the bread I had bought left in the house. Once that was gone, there would be no more food. I should have stocked up on frozen food or instant meals.

I sent an email to my senior and family, telling them I planned to go to the city hall.

My family advised me to wait for rescue. I still hadn’t heard back from my senior.

+++++

The next day.

I had sent the email and packed a bag with necessary items, preparing to leave the house, but I still couldn’t bring myself to go outside. Looking out the window at the infected people, I couldn’t believe I could safely make it to the city hall, and I hesitated.

There was no more food left in this apartment. I had to make a decision.

While searching for information on my smartphone, the internet suddenly stopped working. I tried restarting my phone, but it didn’t help. I thought it might be broken, but other apps worked fine.

The phone lines and the internet were both down.

I was stunned, but then, as if to add to my shock, a sharp sound like breaking plastic echoed from outside the window, making me shudder. Dull thuds came from nearby, from the balcony.

I shouldn’t look.

In movies, I always thought, “Just don’t go and look,” but my body moved as if controlled by something else. I shouldn’t have checked, but I peeked through the gap in the closed curtains and window.

I made eye contact.

It was the college student who lived next door, someone I had only met a few times and didn’t even know by name.

The plastic divider between the balconies had a crack, possibly due to aging, and it had broken.

Her eyes, peering through the broken gap, were terribly cloudy.