The Collapse Omnibus

by V. A. Brandon

  “Give me the camera,” Min Soo said sharply, extending his hand. This had to end right now for both their sakes.

  Silence fell between them as Ethan gawked at the screen, color draining from his face. What exactly was he seeing? Min Soo could only guess. Was it a photo of him and Sun Hwa arguing in the bustling crowd? Of him throwing the virus into her face? Or when the bloodbath began? He lowered his hand when Ethan closed his mouth and shifted slightly toward him.

  “We should head back to the office,” the young man said, avoiding Min Soo’s gaze. His voice trembled slightly.

  “What did you see, Ethan?”

  “Nothing, just . . . there was nothing to see.”

  “I don’t believe you.” A brief, taunting pause. “Then let me tell you what I think you saw.”

  “I told you, there was nothing –”

  “Shut up, Ethan.” Min Soo tilted his head, smiling. In a way, he was glad that the truth was out. Pretending to be someone other than his true self was starting to get exhausting. “You saw me infect my wife. You saw my infected wife eating and tearing into the terrified shoppers.” His smile disappeared when Ethan began edging away from him. “Where are you going? I haven’t finished talking.”

  Clearly, Ethan wanted to put as much distance between them as possible. His reaction puzzled Min Soo. The young man was tall and unquestionably stronger. From Min Soo’s experience, these factors were usually enough to convince impulsive males that they held the advantage, especially if their opponent was older and diminutive in size. So why was Ethan just staring at him like that?

  Then it dawned on him. He thinks I have another vial in my pocket. He thinks I’m going to infect him like I did to Sun Hwa.

  It was actually not a bad idea. Except for the fact that he didn’t have another vial.

  Not yet, anyway.

  But Ethan didn’t know that. He probably thought Min Soo had an endless supply of test tubes filled with the deadly virus.

  Edging closer, Min Soo deliberately placed his hand into his breast pocket.

  “Don’t!” Ethan said, backing away quickly. In his hurry to widen the gap between them, he’d failed to notice that he was dangerously close to the roof’s edge.

  Min Soo didn’t waste any time. He rushed forward, pulling out his hand, and that was enough to send Ethan toppling over the roof. One second, his arms were pinwheeling in midair; and the next, he was gone.

  He didn’t even scream as he fell to the ground.

  Closing his eyes, Min Soo listened to the snarls and sounds of ripping flesh beneath him. The last time he’d killed a man, his hands had throttled and bruised his victim’s neck. He had watched as the missionary gazed back at him, life fading from his desperate, pleading eyes.

  Killing was never easy. But it got easier with experience.

  Min Soo reluctantly opened his eyes and stood on the roof’s edge, examining the gory scene below. The infected fed on Ethan like rabid dogs, as if they hadn’t eaten in a while. The camera was a stone’s throw away from the young man’s ravaged remains.

  Having fun now, Ethan?

  Pressing his lips into a grim line, Min Soo wrenched his gaze away and headed toward the exit door. He’d had enough violence for one day.

  Chapter 7

  Ten days passed, slow and uneventful. Ethan’s rodents remained very much alive in the next room, and Sun Hwa roamed around the mall, taunting Min Soo with the vaccine. A few days ago, he’d caught a brief glimpse of his wife near the first-floor escalators. Unlike the other infected, however, she had no bite marks or gaping wounds to indicate that she’d been attacked.

  He had found his wife, but he still had no plan. There was no progress. As such, he was stuck in the wretched tunnels that felt more like a prison with each new day.

  Min Soo glanced at the semi-automatic pistol sitting atop a pile of clean blankets. During one of his food runs, he had snagged the Colt M1911 off a dead security officer outside the toy store. To his luck, the magazine had been full. Its presence gave Min Soo a small measure of comfort; if the situation took a nosedive, he could always eat a bullet instead of being eaten alive.

  But neither was going to happen. After all, he had a mission to complete.

  ***

  Several weeks passed, and Min Soo was still stuck inside the tunnels. And to make matters worse, Ethan’s mutants were still breathing and squeaking in the next room. How was that even possible? Had Ethan poured an entire sack’s worth of pellets into their cage?

  There was only one way to end this unbearable torment.

  Roasted guinea pig was going to be on the menu tonight.

  Chapter 8

  Min Soo squatted beside his portable cooking stove, carefully wrapping the roasted guinea pigs in aluminum foil. Skinning the blasted rodents had been more difficult than he’d thought, but at least their tiny pelts would make great earmuffs. Feeling relaxed – even cheered – for the first time since the spread of the infection, he decided to treat himself to a can of beer.

  Fifteen minutes later, he stepped out into the corridor and entered his office. Two LED lanterns on either side of the walls gave the room much-needed light, allowing him to see where he’d placed his pistol. The city’s infrastructure had slowly but surely come to a grinding halt, resulting in the loss of basic amenities such as running water and electricity. A nuisance, but not wholly unexpected.

  Still, Min Soo couldn’t complain. In his heart, he knew that he was better off than most in the city. There were people trapped in their homes with limited supplies, or worse, stuck outside with nowhere to go. Frankly, he was surprised that he hadn’t come across any looters yet.

  Just as he was about to leave the office, he paused at the threshold, frowning. He was certain that he’d heard something. Scurrying rats . . . or voices, maybe?

  There it was again. Min Soo tiptoed over to the staff door, listening hard. The voices sounded frantic, almost frightened. Had looters come to Central Creek Mall, after all?

  He wondered if he should kill them.

  Then again, these visitors could well be the answer to his dilemma. No doubt they would be hungry, thirsty, and frightened, seeking shelter and assistance from a kind stranger. In their current condition, they would be quite susceptible to a quid pro quo.

  His mind made up, Min Soo grabbed his night-vision goggles, gripped his pistol, and stepped out into the darkened tunnel.

  As he crept toward them, one querulous male voice rose above the rest.

  “What is it? Get to the point already.”

  “Hey! Quiet down, will you?” A female voice this time. “There are about twenty Runners outside, and we don’t want to grab their attention.”

  At this revelation, the rest of the group huddled to discuss what to do next, bringing their candles closer to their faces. Min Soo watched them silently. There were five people in all – three men and two women. And was the Asian woman holding a dog in her arms? Did they think they were on a road trip or something?

  As if the mutt read his mind and took offense, it bared its canines and growled viciously.

  “Please, Walter!” the woman begged, curling her fingers around its snout. “Be quiet. Shh, shh. Good boy. Shh.”

  The man beside her must have sensed his presence, judging by the stabby manner he held up his fire poker.

  “Put that down,” Min Soo ordered, his upper lip curling into a sneer. “If you don’t, I will shoot you. I have a gun.”

  That shut them up faster than anything he could have said. Pleased by their cowed response, he decided to play the gracious host and put them at ease. He stepped forward and slipped off his goggles.

  “Put out the candles. One of you hold onto me. The rest of you, form a line behind your friend and link hands so you don’t get lost.”

  They were quick to obey, trailing behind Min Soo without a word of protest. After leading them through the staff door, he got them settled in and offered bottled water and roasted guinea pig. He saw the gratitude i
n their eyes and knew instantly – they would feel compelled to help in any way they could. At last, after weeks of inaction, the wheels were finally set in motion.

  I’m coming for you, Sun Hwa, he thought, smiling genially as he sliced off a roasted haunch and placed it on his plate. I’m coming for your blasted vaccine.

  ***

  Once dinner was finished, Min Soo and his guests sat down to enjoy a freshly brewed pot of coffee. He tried to steer the conversation toward the guests, but they seemed more interested in him. In fact, the white female – Min Soo couldn’t remember if her name was Amber or Amy – was filled with questions.

  “Why are you alone here? Were you here from the very beginning? Did you witness what happened?”

  Min Soo hid a smile. If only you knew. Instead, he regaled them with a tale designed to tug at their heartstrings.

  “My wife and I have been working as cleaners at Central Creek Mall for fifteen years. Fifteen years! How time flies.” He paused, staring into space. “We were defectors from North Korea. Let me tell you, it was tough trying to escape from that wretched hellhole. But on a winter night, we managed to somehow cross the border into China and stay hidden there for five months. With the help of a Korean missionary worker, we were able to enter South Korea . . .” In his mind’s eye, he saw himself squeezing the missionary’s soft neck, choking the life out of him. He shook the image from his head and went on.

  “. . . we made plans, applied for visas, and immigrated to the United States.”

  Briefly, he recalled how he and Sun Hwa had put on a show as husband and wife, as immigrants who barely spoke a word of English.

  “When my wife and I came to America, the first thing we did was attend a local Korean church. There, we found kind people who were willing to help us find a job, any job. We became cleaners at Central Creek Mall. It was a blessing that we could earn money and put food on the table. I was eventually promoted to supervisor, and we continued working there, year after year. Life was simple and good.

  “Several weeks ago, my wife and I drove to the mall, ready to begin another day’s work. She wanted to stop by at the supermarket to buy a few things, so we made a small detour before going to the office.” He paused for effect, his face crumpling with sorrow. “And that was the beginning of the end.”

  The Asian woman – a South Korean, he’d later found out – widened her eyes. “What happened?”

  How he detested South Koreans. As far as Min Soo was concerned, they were no better than traitors. But he swallowed his distaste and frowned thoughtfully instead.

  “There was a lot of commotion on the first floor. At first, people were running and screaming. Then minutes later, they were running . . . and tearing.” He blinked, as though valiantly trying to hold back tears. “So much blood. The floors became slippery with blood and vomit and smashed organs. For a frightening second, I lost my grip on my wife’s hand. She was a few paces behind me.”

  Or rather, a few paces in front of him as he threw the virus into her screeching face.

  “When I went back for her, I saw a large man slam into her side. It all happened so fast! Before I knew it, she was trying to tear my throat out with her teeth.”

  His breathing quickened. “What could I do? I ran like the coward I was. To this day, she’s still wandering around inside the mall. It’s like she’s waiting for me to return to her.”

  Min Soo knew he had a knack for languages. He also had a knack for telling tales. But perhaps his greatest gift was this – he was a consummate liar.

  Their discussion shifted to the attack and how far the infection might have spread. Min Soo mentioned Ethan, which excited the white female. Maybe it was because he’d said Ethan had been a reporter. He wasn’t entirely sure why he’d said that; after all, the young man had only been an amateur blogger.

  Maybe you feel guilty about how he died, and you want to make him sound legit.

  Or maybe he just enjoyed lying through his teeth.

  There was no time to dwell on this because the South Korean male rudely interrupted his thoughts and asked for a working car. He had some nerve, that one. After much hemming and hawing, with some Korean words thrown in for good measure, Min Soo offered them his station wagon on one condition.

  They would have to help him catch his wife.

  ***

  A little after midnight, Min Soo tiptoed out of his office and headed toward the staff parking space, where his old station wagon was idly standing by. He was glad to be rid of it. A couple of days ago, he’d set his sights on a red sports car that had once belonged to his colleague.

  A cleaning supervisor with a fancy sports car. For months, it had amused him to no end.

  And now it was his.

  “Thanks, Eddie,” he murmured, swinging the door open and sliding into the front leather seat. “Love your fine car, by the way.” He flipped the sun visor down, catching the keys in the palm of his hand. It had been an open secret that Eddie never locked his car. Frankly, it had bewildered Min Soo that people could be so trusting. Did Eddie think leaving his unlocked sports car in the staff parking space somehow made it safer?

  He started the engine and drove the car outside, away from prying eyes. The last thing he needed was for his guests to see this fancy piece of machinery and demand to have it instead of the wagon. Outwardly, they seemed humble and grateful, but you never knew with strangers. There were too many wolves in sheep’s clothing.

  He should know, because he was also one of them.

  Satisfied that the car was in a safe location, he turned around and took stock of the boxes piled in the backseat. He’d been busy for the past week or so, packing and dreaming of the day he would finally get to leave. Canned and dry goods, bottled water, first aid kits, steak knives, blankets, extra clothes, medicine, soap, flashlights, and tools . . . all of these were items he would need for the road.

  And his pistol. He couldn’t leave without it.

  A long hiss sounded outside his window, and he quickly ducked down, making himself as small as possible. Several of the infected shuffled past, and Min Soo squeezed his eyes shut in horror, recognizing one of them.

  It was Ethan. Except half of his face was torn off, his torso a dark, gaping mess. His exposed spine gleamed under the moonlight. And one of his arms was missing.

  He stalled in front of the sports car and released a long hiss. Then he shuffled to the right, aiming for the street up ahead.

  I’m sorry, kid, I truly am. Maybe you can exact your revenge in the next life.

  Unsettled by what he saw, Min Soo stayed inside the sports car long after Ethan was gone, and remained rooted to his seat even as the first signs of a warm, orange hue appeared over the distant horizon.

  Chapter 9

  All morning and afternoon, Min Soo’s guests busied themselves by loading boxes into the station wagon. He had led the females through the mall, slipping in and out through staff doors to get what they needed. As for the two males, Justin and Daniel, they’d been busy making preparations to catch Sun Hwa. Their plan – creating a loud diversion with a battery-operated CD/DVD player on one end of the mall, while trapping Sun Hwa on the other end with tennis nets, masking tape, and a shopping cart – was lame and fraught with dangers.

  But it was better than no plan at all.

  When Daniel left to get things started, Justin turned to his friends. “Go and wait in the car. When we return, we’ll be leaving straight away.” He nodded at Min Soo. “If you’re ready.”

  Min Soo paused to face the females. “Goodbye,” he said. “Thank you, and may you stay safe.” He squeezed their hands, then patted the South Korean female on the back as she wept quietly. The silly thing thought he would kill himself once the males brought Sun Hwa to the tunnels. But he soothed her anyway, speaking in their native tongue. It was the only way to get her to turn off the waterworks

  A while later, Min Soo and Justin stepped into the corridor.

  “It’s not too late to change your mi
nd,” he said, heading toward the nearest staff door.

  Justin smiled sadly, walking alongside him. “And it’s not too late to change yours. Come with us, please. We have room for one more.”

  “No, I’m happy where I am.” Min Soo furrowed his brows. “Let’s not talk about that anymore, shall we? It makes me deeply uncomfortable.”

  The walls reverberated with the noise of smashing glass, female yowls, and masculine brawls. Daniel had connected the DVD player to a set of speakers.

  It was dramatic soap opera at its peak.

  “Wait for us here,” Justin said, opening the door and peeking out. “If we’re not back in an hour” – here, he paled visibly – “tell Amy and the others to leave without us.”

  “I will.” Min Soo shook his hand. “Good luck, young man. And thank you.”

  With a nod of acknowledgment, Justin slipped through the staff door and carefully made his way across the blood-splattered mall.

  ***

  Forty minutes had passed, but the two males had not returned. Were they having trouble locating Sun Hwa? Had the description of her appearance and her general whereabouts been too vague, unhelpful even? Min Soo swallowed hard, his heart beating at an alarming rate. The last time he had felt this nervous, he’d been fifteen years old, witnessing a live execution for the first time in his young life. Later, he’d fallen into a muddy ditch and thrown up the contents of his meager meal.

  He felt like throwing up right about now.

  Hearing the sounds of panting and rattling wheels on linoleum, he sighed in relief and yanked open the staff door. Sun Hwa was writhing inside the shopping cart, her bony legs sticking into the air. Grunting with exertion, Justin and Daniel pushed the cart in and slammed the door behind them.

  “Are you both all right?” Min Soo asked at once. They stank of stale blood and looked awful.

  Justin pushed the cart down the corridor, wiping the sweat off his forehead. “We’re fine. Daniel and I will help you barricade the meeting room –”