THE VARIANT: ZERO HOUR

7. HALLUCINATIONS OF HUNGER AND THIRST

 

The second morning in hell.

The cramped Archive Room now felt like a giant oven. With the AC out and no proper ventilation since the power died last night, the air inside had turned stifling and toxic. The smell of sour sweat, the metallic tang of dried blood, and the dust from old medical records all mixed into one, assaulting their nostrils and making them sick.

Morning sunlight only filtered in timidly through a small gap above a steel shelf, providing just enough dim light to see the misery on each other’s faces.

In a corner of the room, Jaemin sat slumped against the wall, his face a mess. His shirt was sticky with sweat and blood. But it wasn't his own wounds that were driving him crazy this morning; it was the sight of the boy in his lap.

Jihoon was shivering violently. The twelve-year-old’s lips were severely chapped, his face was deathly pale, and beads of cold sweat the size of corn kernels dotted his forehead.

"Jaemin, I'm thirsty," Jihoon mumbled deliriously, his voice barely a whisper. The boy's eyes were half-closed, his breaths short, shallow, and hot.

Jaemin wiped his brother's forehead, his heart sinking. "His temperature's spiking, WTF. He has a fever. Severe dehydration and shock." Jaemin looked over at Min-Ji and Jinwoo, who were sitting nearby. "We can't just sit here. He needs water, dammit. If he doesn't get some, he could die before a monster even gets a chance to bite him."

Min-Ji, who was sharpening her folding knife on the edge of her military boot, let out a soft sigh. "You think I'm not thirsty? My throat feels like I just swallowed a handful of sand. But going out that steel door is suicide. You can hear them, can't you? Still scratching at it out there."

"I'm with Ms. Psycho on this one," Jinwoo chimed in, leaning his head against the wall. The young cop looked just as wrecked. The bags under his eyes were dark and heavy. "Last night, I heard chewing sounds from the other side of the door. Sounds like a couple of them were having breakfast on whatever was left of that nurse in the hallway. If we open that door now, we'll be the dessert."

"So we just let him die here?!" Jaemin snapped, his temper flaring. He glared at Jinwoo. "You're a cop, you bastard! Are we just supposed to give up and wait to die of dehydration?!"

Before Jinwoo could answer, a whiny plea cut through their argument.

"P-please! Untie me. My hands are numb, I need a drink, I have a heart condition, are you trying to kill me?!"

Kim Minseok, the doctor who created the apocalypse, was crying again from his spot tied to the steel shelf post. The face Jaemin had battered with the file yesterday was now severely swollen. His nose was purple, and his eyes were watery and pleading.

Jinwoo’s last nerve finally snapped.

The cop shot to his feet, strode over to Minseok, and immediately grabbed the middle-aged man's index finger.

"ARGH! T-THAT HURTS!" Minseok shrieked as Jinwoo bent his finger backward, nearly to its breaking point.

"You listen to me very carefully, you old bastard," Jinwoo hissed, his voice low and deadly. The dark comedy that usually laced his words was gone, replaced by pure menace. "I would rather face a lifetime of disciplinary action than die of thirst while listening to your bullshit. You started this apocalypse! Because of you, I can't even go home and eat the leftover ramyun in my apartment! If you open your mouth to ask for water one more time, I'll break your fingers off one by one and use them as a snack!"

"I-I'm sorry! I'm sorry, Officer!" Minseok squeezed his eyes shut, wetting his pants a little out of sheer terror.

"Let go of his finger, Jinwoo. Don't get your hands dirty on a piece of trash," Min-Ji interjected flatly. "Besides, if he dies now, we'll be the ones stuck smelling his corpse in this tiny room."

Jinwoo clicked his tongue in annoyance, releasing Minseok's finger and wiping his hand on his uniform as if he'd just touched filth. "Dammit. My blood pressure hasn't gone down since yesterday."

Jaemin carefully laid Jihoon's head on a folded jacket, then stood and walked over to Jinwoo. The panic of a teenager was gone from his eyes, replaced by the resolve of a cornered leader.

"Jinwoo, do you remember the layout of this floor from when you came in?" Jaemin asked seriously.

Jinwoo frowned. "The third floor? This is the medical records ward, it connects to the specialists' hallway. At the end of the right corridor... oh, shit." Jinwoo's eyes widened. "There's a small cafeteria! A staff-only cafeteria! When I was running from that zombie horde last night, I saw the glow of a Vending Machine sign near there right before the power went out."

"How far from this room?" Min-Ji chimed in, her interest piqued.

"About fifty meters, down the main hallway," Jinwoo answered. He rubbed his face roughly. "But it's useless, dammit. That main hall is a sea of ex-humans. If we try to make a run for it, I've only got four bullets left in my revolver. We'd never make it."

Jaemin didn't give up. He looked up, his eyes scanning the ceiling of the Archive Room. He focused on a fairly large aluminum grate covering an air conditioning vent, located directly above the farthest steel shelf.

"We're not going through the hallway," Jaemin said, pointing up. "We're going through the ceiling."

Jinwoo and Min-Ji looked up in unison.

"Are you insane, Jaem?!" Jinwoo stared. "Hospital air vents are narrow as hell! They're full of dust, and we have no idea where they lead. If the structure is weak and we fall through, we'll drop right into the middle of a zombie mosh pit!"

"You got a better idea, Officer?" Jaemin challenged coldly. "My brother can't wait. I'm going up there. If you're scared, you can stay here and keep the BDSM grandpa company."

Jinwoo swore under his breath. "Fuck you for questioning my nerve. I'm in! No way I'm letting you die a stupid death inside a pipe by yourself."

A small smirk touched Min-Ji's lips as she crossed her arms. "A halfway decent suicide plan. I'll stay here and watch your brother and the baldy. If you two aren't back with water in two hours, I'm barricading this door for good and I'll assume you've both become burnt sausages."

"You've got a savage mouth, lady," Jinwoo grumbled.

[Afternoon]

With the help of a tall shelf and a boost from Min-Ji, Jaemin managed to pry open the aluminum vent cover. He climbed into the pitch-black and narrow tin duct, followed closely by Jinwoo.

"Be careful, Jaem. You fart in front of me, I'll shoot you in the back of the head," Jinwoo threatened jokingly, trying to break the tension with his signature dark humor as they began to crawl.

"Shut up. Turn on your phone's flashlight, WTF. It's pitch black in here," Jaemin whispered back.

Jinwoo switched on the flashlight from his phone, which was already down to 15% battery. The white beam cut through the darkness, revealing a tin duct filled with thick dust and cobwebs. The air in here was even hotter and more suffocating. They had to crawl on their stomachs, using their elbows and knees to inch forward.

Creek… groan…

Every movement they made produced a metallic creak. Below them, through the grates they passed, they could catch glimpses of the horror on the third floor.

Dozens of zombies stood motionless in a passive, dormant state, inactive without sound or light to stimulate them. A few were curled in corners, silently chewing on something. The distance between the bottom of the vent and the zombies' heads was only about ten feet. If the tin gave way, they were finished.

"Jaem, slow down, dammit. The screws are groaning," Jinwoo whispered frantically, sweat soaking through his uniform. The tight space was starting to trigger his claustrophobia.

"I know, I know. We're about to turn toward the cafeteria. Point the light ahead," Jaemin replied, his breath ragged.

Jaemin navigated a ninety-degree turn in the ventilation shaft. The path ahead sloped slightly downward.

"A little more light, Jinwoo. I can't see the end."

Jinwoo slid his phone over Jaemin's shoulder, pointing the flashlight beam into the darkness of the narrow duct before them.

Flick… whoosh.

The flashlight beam split the darkness. And what it illuminated made the blood in both Jaemin's and Jinwoo's veins freeze solid.

It was just inches from Jaemin's face.

Inside the cramped, suffocating ventilation duct… was a woman. She was wearing a tattered nurse's uniform, soaked in thick, congealed blood. Apparently, she had tried to hide in the vents when the outbreak started, only to get bitten, turn, and become trapped inside.

The nurse's deathly pale face stared blankly ahead. Her jaw was dislocated on one side, hanging grotesquely.

The moment Jinwoo's flashlight beam hit her cloudy white eyes, the muscles in the nurse's face twitched wildly.

At point-blank range, in an enclosed space with nowhere to run, the zombie nurse's mouth opened wide, unleashing a hoarse shriek that echoed directly into Jaemin's eardrums!

"GRAAAAAARRGHH!"