POV: Jun-ho
The air felt different this morning. Heavy. Charged with the same tension that had been hanging over the dorms like a stormcloud, only now it felt like the first drops were falling.
I stood at the entrance to the dorm, my boots pressing into the damp earth, the smell of saltwater mingling with the scent of the wood barricades and the faint, musty odor of the building itself.
It was as if the island was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen.
The students were already assembling near the courtyard, all eyes on me. They were waiting. For orders. For someone to take control.
I swallowed, trying to keep my nerves in check. This wasn't just about survival anymore. This was leadership.
"We need to fortify the perimeter. Check the windows, reinforce the doors. Everyone gets a weapon—anything you can use." I said, my voice steady but firm, despite the racing thoughts behind it.
The group scattered, moving with varying degrees of urgency. Some of them had already cobbled together makeshift spears, bats, and pipes. Others were still too shell-shocked to even think of defending themselves.
Minjae, ever the skeptic, came over with that typical sneer on his face, his hands shoved deep into his pockets.
"You really think this is going to work? You want to just sit here and wait for them to come? We should be out there—find a way off this island, not hiding behind wooden walls like scared rats." He asked, his voice dripping with doubt.
I turned to him, meeting his gaze head-on.
"And if we go out there? What happens then, Minjae? We don't know how many there are, or what else might be out there. We need to stay put and defend this place."
He clenched his jaw, frustration flickering across his features. "I get it, okay? But it's not a plan. It's just...waiting."
I could feel the tension rising in my chest. He was right, in a way. But we didn't have the luxury of options.
"Get to work. You're welcome to leave anytime. But if you stay, we do this together." I said, cutting off further argument. Minjae scoffed and walked off, but I could see the flicker of doubt in his eyes. The others, though, were more cooperative.
Ara was already organizing the smaller students, showing them how to use what few weapons we had. Her hands were steady, her eyes sharp, but I noticed the way her gaze kept returning to me.
There was something in her eyes, something that wasn't there before. Maybe it was respect. Maybe it was just fear. Either way, it didn't matter. The responsibility was on my shoulders now.
By the time we finished our inspection, the courtyard had a makeshift armory of sorts—swords fashioned from broken broom handles, pipes wrapped with cloth for grip, and kitchen knives with crude handles.
Everyone was ready, more or less.
I paused at the edge of the courtyard, watching the others prepare. For a moment, the noise of their movements—grating metal, scraping wood—seemed to fade away, leaving only a haunting silence.
The air was thick, laden with the scent of the ocean and the distant buzz of insects. But it was more than that.
It was a feeling deep in my gut, a sense that everything we'd done so far—everything we thought was going to work—was only buying us time. Time until the inevitable came crashing down.
I shook off the thought.
"We need to stay sharp. We've already seen what they can do. We don't get careless. Keep your eyes open, and stay in pairs." I said, my voice cutting through the silence.
As the students broke into groups to inspect their assigned areas, I saw Ara in the distance, silently checking the edge of the forest, her posture tense. There was something almost graceful about the way she moved, the way she seemed to absorb the landscape, as if she were blending into it.
I'd never seen anyone so calm in the face of everything we were up against.
Her gaze flicked toward me again, catching my eye for a brief moment before she went back to her task.
She wasn't saying anything, but there was something in the way she held herself—something unspoken—that said she was with me, even if we never put it into words.
—
Later, as we took a break by the beach—our makeshift weapons strewn across the sand, everyone slumped and sipping water—I let myself breathe.
For a few minutes, the world felt almost normal. The waves crashed gently against the shore, the sun hanging low in the sky, casting long shadows across the sand.
Minjae had tripped on his way down to the beach, stumbling over a rock in his hurry to get away from the work. His face flushed bright red as he cursed under his breath, but the moment passed quickly. He stood up and dusted himself off, pretending like he hadn't just made a fool of himself.
"Maybe we should stay out here. It's nice and quiet. A hell of a lot better than the prison back there." Minjae grumbled, settling down with a grunt.
I glanced at him, a faint smile tugging at the corner of my mouth despite the tension. "You're right. I could use a break too." I said, though I knew it was a joke.
But the peace didn't last long. In the distance, we could see the first clouds of smoke from the campfire the students had set up earlier. The rest of the group seemed to relax a little, but I stayed alert, eyes scanning the horizon. It was too calm.
And I knew that it couldn't last.
—
That night, everything went wrong. It started with a low thud at the perimeter—distant at first, like the sound of someone knocking at a door. Then another. Then the unmistakable sound of splintering wood. The barricades were under attack.
I was on my feet immediately, adrenaline kicking in. "Everyone—get to your positions!" I shouted, my voice hoarse, cutting through the rising panic.
Ara was by my side in an instant, her face a mask of determination, but I could see the hesitation behind her eyes. This was it. The moment we'd been dreading.
We moved quickly, instinct guiding us more than anything else. I grabbed a pole, the rough wood biting into my palm as I glanced around. Everyone else was already positioned at the windows, watching the shadows in the darkening night.
Then—screams.
A student was caught outside during the breach. They had tried to escape, but now they were at the mercy of the infected.
I hesitated, my heart racing.
"Jun-ho, we have to—" Ara started, her voice frantic.
But I couldn't move. I couldn't think. The student was too far gone. They were lost. The infected were swarming, closing in like a flood. I looked to Ara, her eyes wide with terror. But she said nothing. She didn't need to.
And then, it hit me—the weight of the decision. There was no saving that student, not now.
I clenched my jaw, feeling the ache in my chest, but I knew what had to be done. We couldn't risk more lives. Not when we were already fighting to survive. The infected were coming. And I had to keep everyone alive.