The Collapse Omnibus

by V. A. Brandon

  “Quiet, Walter. Don’t do this right now.”

  Any other time, she and Justin could have handled a single Runner. But there were traps lying about, and there was nothing worse than the thought of a Runner descending on you while rusty steel jaws bit your leg in half.

  Justin glanced back and swore under his breath. “He’s torn himself loose. I can hear him thrashing after us.”

  Despite half-walking, half-crawling with a mangled leg, the Runner was quickly gaining on them. There was no way to outrun it, not at their slow pace. Coming to a decision, Amy dropped her backpack on the ground and whirled around to face the approaching Runner.

  “I’m going to be bait,” she shouted at Justin. “So make sure to kill him from behind!”

  “What –” Confused, Justin turned to see her in a fighting stance, feet spread out. He opened his mouth to argue, but there was no time. The Runner was a mere twenty feet away.

  One second, the Runner was snarling and crawling; several seconds later, it was leaping at Amy, its blood-stained fingers scrabbling at the air. She jerked her head and took several steps back, praying that there weren’t any hidden traps behind her. She hadn’t been able to check this part of the ground earlier.

  The Runner lurched toward her again, and Amy pushed her branch into its gaping mouth, watching in horror as the branch went down its throat. It kept edging closer, forcing the branch down. Amy gagged at the sight but held on; the stick was the only thing keeping the Runner at bay.

  Justin swung the bat hard, hitting the Runner on the temple. He aimed for a second swing, but a loud crackle filled the air, startling them. A split second later, the Runner’s head exploded, causing bits of flesh, bone, and brain to fly out everywhere.

  Fear bloomed in Amy’s chest. The shooter had found them. Was his plan to kill them and take everything they owned?

  About a stone’s throw away, the bearded gunman lowered his rifle and slowly rose to his feet. There were two limp hares hanging from his belt. He stood there and appraised them both, not saying a word.

  “Took you kids long enough to get here,” the gunman said at last, and began walking into closer view. Sunlight glinted on his salt-and-pepper hair as his stern expression morphed into a grin.

  Amy’s heart began to thump faster.

  It was their old friend, Garrett.

  Chapter 10

  “Where are the others?” Garrett asked as he led Amy and Justin through the woods.

  The two exchanged an uncomfortable glance before Justin spoke. “They didn’t make it,” he said softly.

  “I want to hear everything tonight,” Garrett ordered, sidestepping a leafy spot to his left. There was no doubt in Amy’s mind that those leaves hid another nasty trap for some unsuspecting Runner, hare, or human. She followed closely behind, tracing the older man’s steps.

  “Will your friend accept us?” Justin asked.

  “Jed?” Garrett waved his hand in a dismissive manner. “He already knows you’re coming. Don’t worry about it.”

  It took another fifteen minutes of traipsing through the woods before Amy saw something that brought tears to her eyes.

  “It’s the farm,” she whispered, staring at the tall wooden fences surrounding the small plot of land. She could hear the faint whinny of a horse and what sounded like the clucking of chickens in the distance.

  Garrett gave her a bearded smile. “Welcome to your new home.”

  As they made their way toward a two-story lodge, a small boy ran out of the barn, pumping his thin legs as fast as he could. Before Amy could even croak out a greeting, the boy hurtled himself at her, wrapping his arms around her waist.

  “I knew it was you!” Benson cried out. “I looked out the window and instantly recognized you. What took you so long? Where’s everyone? What’s in that bag?”

  Smiling at his barrage of questions, Amy placed her backpack down, her smile widening as Walter whined and pushed his snout through the partially opened zipper.

  “I have a surprise for you,” she said and unzipped her bag. Immediately, Walter popped his furry head up, his body swaying as he wagged his tail furiously.

  “Walter!” the little boy shouted, reaching in to pull out his smelly best friend. “You’re alive! You’re okay!”

  The pooch writhed and licked his owner’s face like it was the most delicious thing in the world. Amy watched the reunion, her heart breaking a little.

  I wish you could see this, Marie.

  Minutes later, Benson wiped his face with his sleeve and peered behind Amy and Justin, expectant. “Where’s Marie? Is she here with you? Or is she coming later?” He shot them a toothy grin. “I missed her a lot, you know.”

  Amy found herself unable to speak. When she hurriedly looked away, Justin gently placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder.

  “I’m sorry, Benson, but she’s not coming.”

  The boy paused, biting his bottom lip. “Is she . . . ?”

  Is she dead? The question hung in the air.

  “I’m sorry,” Justin repeated.

  Benson stood frozen for a moment, his eyes glazed as Walter continued to lick his face. Then a whimper escaped him as his face crumpled with profound grief.

  ***

  There weren’t many people on the farm. Garrett’s friend, Jed, was hirsute and grumpy-looking, a man who preferred to tend to his farm than socialize with others. After grunting out a curt hello, he disappeared back into his barn to fix a broken ladder.

  Garrett’s teenage daughter, Lily, was the opposite of grumpy. A pretty and vivacious blonde, she bore no resemblance to her father whatsoever. Maybe it was because of the lack of young available men on the farm, but she kept throwing flirtatious glances at Justin.

  Amy decided to keep an eye on her, just in case.

  When evening came, they decided to eat dinner on the patio to admire the fireflies dancing in the woods. Garrett had prepared hare stew, with a side of mashed potatoes and boiled peas. For dessert, they had peach cobbler. It was so scrumptious that Amy and Justin had seconds.

  Once their bellies were full, Garrett asked Lily and Benson to take the empty plates back into the kitchen and to go to bed. Walter tagged along after them, his full attention on Benson. As soon as they left, the older man turned to Justin.

  “Tell me what happened to the others.”

  So Justin told him, starting from how they had escaped to the highway, and their run-in with a group of survivors who had stolen his jeep. Here, he paused for a bit.

  “We saw the leader lying on the side of the road,” he said carefully. “He’d been shot.”

  “I did that.” It was Jed, who finally decided to join in. “That thug tried to steal my truck. Tried to kidnap Lily, too. Garrett got into a bit of a scuffle with him, so I shot the fool.” His eyes blazed. “Got a problem with that?”

  “No, sir. Not at all.” Wisely, Justin quickly returned to his account of the things that had happened to them along the way. He spoke of Mr. Kang at Central Creek Mall, and how they had ended up there. Then he described Green Hill Clinic, and finally, the events that had led to Patrick’s and Marie’s deaths.

  “What about Daniel? What happened to him?”

  “He came with us, but decided to return to the clinic,” Amy said softly, her head bowed. “He said he was infected.”

  Garrett shook his head in frustration. “That’s crazy. How could he know for sure?”

  Amy and Justin remained silent.

  Letting out a heavy sigh, the older man stood up, brushing crumbs from his shirt. “I have something to show you two,” he said, heading into the lodge. “I’ll be back in a bit.”

  While he was gone, Jed kept his beady gaze on the newcomers. “Can either of you shoot?” When they shook their heads, he snorted. “You’ll learn, starting tomorrow. And you’ll have to pull your weight around here. There are no free rides, understand?”

  They nodded in agreement.

  “Are the fences stable?” Justin asked. “
Have you had problems with Runners trying to get in?”

  Jed suddenly grinned. “Garrett told me that’s the nickname you gave them. Runners. It’s not bad.” His grin soon slipped away, replaced by annoyance. “Yeah, they’ve tried. But I usually just shoot them down if they get near.”

  “Have you seen the hordes?” Amy exchanged a glance with Justin. “I mean, if a horde of Runners happens to pass by . . .”

  “There’s a bunker beneath the house,” Jed said, a touch of pride in his voice. “It’s big enough to keep us safe for a while, along with the few barn animals I have.”

  Just then, Garrett returned outside, holding a fancy camera in his hands. “Jed and I were at Central Creek Mall a few days ago, just to stock up on extra supplies. We also shot down most of the Runners hanging around the area. But that’s not the important part.” He sat down and handed the camera to Justin. “This is the important part.”

  “How so?” Justin ran his fingers over the cracked lens, then pressed the “on” button.

  Garrett raised his eyebrows. “Because it contains a clue. And if I’m correct, this camera contains one answer to how the infection began.”

  “Where did you find it?” Amy asked as Justin carefully studied the digital photos.

  “I found it below a terrace. The owner probably dropped it from the second floor.”

  Quiet descended upon them as Justin grew more pensive by the second. He was pale by the time he finished. “Amy, you need to see this,” he said, sounding a little hoarse. And he handed the camera to her.

  Frowning at his reaction, she studied the photos before her. There was a photo of the bustling mall inside. Next, a selfie of the cameraman taking a mirror shot in a bathroom. He was cute in a preppy sort of way, with light brown hair. Then another photo of the bustling mall, angled down.

  Gradually, the photos began to be filled with tiny red smears. And then it stopped altogether.

  She went back, pressing “zoom” to enlarge the mall photos. She was surprised to see an old Asian couple in the crowd. They were standing a few paces apart. Next photo: The man was holding a small vial. Next photo: He was throwing its contents into the woman’s face. The one after that showed him walking away. Then the red smears and commotion began. Unable to bear the expressions of terror and confusion on the people’s faces, Amy went back several photos and zoomed in once more.

  Numb, she sat there and stared at the old man’s balding gray hair, his diminutive stature. His expressionless features as he threw the vial’s contents into his wife’s face. She knew him well. How could she not?

  It was none other than Mr. Kang from Central Creek Mall.

  Part Five: The Agent

  Chapter 1

  “Get up. Aren’t you going to church?”

  Kang Min Soo cracked open his eyes wearily. It was Sunday morning, and his wife was looming over him, arms held akimbo. She had fat curlers on her graying head.

  He grunted and rolled over to his other side. “Tell the pastor I’m sick today,” he mumbled under the blanket. Just go away, he thought, burrowing deeper into the warmth.

  No such luck. His wife gripped the edge of the blanket and whipped it off in one smooth movement. Indignant, Min Soo sat up and shot her a glacial look.

  “What happens if he doesn’t see you there?” she nagged, shaking a bony finger in his face. “He will call, right after church. Then the church ladies will visit our home, bringing food and offering to pray for us. But they will talk behind our backs as soon as they reach home.” She shook her finger at him again. “Is that what you want?”

  Min Soo stared at her index finger, feeling a terrible urge to rip it off. Instead, he straightened his back, his gaze devoid of expression.

  “Never speak to me that way again, Agent Yoon. Don’t forget that I am your superior.”

  She paused, her lips thinning at the reminder. “I am your wife –”

  “You are not my wife. You will do well to remember that.”

  The two studied each other carefully, and Min Soo wondered if she would throw herself at him. The last time they’d had a fight, she had resorted to violence, leaving deep scratch marks down his cheeks. They’d stung like hell. But even worse, she had dared to attack her superior. And a male one at that.

  One day, he was going to make her pay for that unforgivable error.

  Soon enough, she lowered her eyes. “I made seaweed soup. You can have that for breakfast.” And she spun on her heels and left the bedroom.

  Grumbling under his breath, Min Soo grabbed the blanket off the floor and lay down again. He could hear his “wife” puttering around in the bathroom, banging the hairdryer on the sink and talking to herself in their native tongue. One phrase in particular reached his ears. Gaesaekki.

  Son of a bitch.

  He inhaled deeply, his nostrils flaring. He would let it go this time. But his patience was running dangerously low. Seventeen years was a long time to parade as a loving, married couple. Frankly, he had no idea how he’d lasted this far.

  Because you believe in the cause.

  Min Soo closed his eyes, a deep sigh rumbling in his chest. Yes, the cause. He and Agent Yoon Sun Hwa – his “wife” – had been sent as sleeper agents by the North Korean government. She was the daughter of a high-ranking official, educated in the best schools of Pyongyang. And he had been an orphan of the streets, begging for food or scrounging for scraps. If even that became scarce, he would slip into the mountains to dig up edible roots. When he was drafted into the Korean People’s Army to begin his mandatory ten-year service, he had sustained himself this way when rations weren’t enough. He remembered the stringy look of his fellow comrades, their hollowed cheeks as their bodies quickly burned up the measly contents in their stomachs. Sometimes, he would share the roots he found. Other times, he would hoard them for the simple reason that there weren’t enough to go around.

  But his superiors hadn’t noticed him because of his survival skills.

  Rather, they’d noticed his knack for languages and regional accents. It was a talent he’d discovered as he roamed the streets as a homeless kid, listening to the chatter of local women. At night, a couple of those women would go home and secretly listen to their old radios beneath their bed covers. He had no idea how they had obtained them, but that hadn’t stopped him from sitting outside their flimsy doors, straining to catch every word sputtering from their radios.

  English words. Chinese words. News and current songs from the South.

  As he revisited their houses and eavesdropped through the doors, he learned to parrot English phrases and entire conversations without having a clue what they meant. He could imitate American politicians and Hollywood actors, sounding eerily like them. And it was this skill that eventually got him noticed by the higher powers of the Korean People’s Army.

  Min Soo stirred when the front door slammed shut, followed by the sound of the station wagon rolling down the driveway. Sun Hwa had finally left the house. Pleased that he was alone at last, he closed his eyes again and succumbed to sleep’s warm embrace.

  ***

  It was a little after midnight. Kang Min Soo stood beside Yoon Sun Hwa, both staring into the dark distance. Just beyond were the Tumen River and the border that would let them enter China as defectors. There was a fence, but the absence of barbed wire would make it relatively easy to climb over and take refuge in the nearby villages.

  Min Soo frowned. The lack of proper security along the Sino-North Korean border was highly disturbing to him. No wonder so many defectors had been able to escape North Korea.

  “It’s time to go,” Sun Hwa said, breaking into his troubled thoughts.

  He looked at her, quietly observing her proud stance, her determined gaze. After graduating from Kim Il Sung University, she had undertaken another three years studying English and martial arts alongside her espionage training. He, on the other hand, had trained for another grueling seven years upon completing his decade-long service in the Korean Peopl
e’s Army.

  He stared into the distance again, his lips thinning in disapproval. Until now, Agent Yoon had only known the comforts of Pyongyang. She had not known suffering like the rest of the starving North Koreans.

  Embarking on this mission with her was not going to be easy.

  Min Soo glanced up at the border guard standing in the watchtower, who returned his gaze with a curt salute. Go safely.

  Slowly, they crossed the frozen river and made their way into China.

  It took them roughly four days to reach Beijing, relying on the kindness of strangers along the way. Their second day in the city, they came across a Korean missionary worker who helped them hide from the Chinese authorities. There were a few other defectors with them – a father and his little daughter, and one pretty sixteen-year-old girl. Min Soo and Sun Hwa played along, listening to their sob stories as they shared rice and dumplings together. Min Soo even captivated them with a fake tale of his own, and when he finished, the group was nearly bawling with empathy. All the while, he’d noticed Sun Hwa studying him carefully, as if noticing him for the first time.

  That same night, he spooned her from behind as they lay on the hard floor. “Why were you staring at me just now?” he whispered in her ear.

  She elbowed his ribs. “You’re hurting me.”

  His response was to squeeze tighter. “Answer my question.”

  “You’re a cold man,” she said softly. “You were so convincing, even I almost believed your story.”

  “That’s why my superiors chose me for this job,” he murmured, suddenly feeling alive. The other defectors had already fallen asleep; he could hear their soft snores rumbling in the dark room. Without warning, he reached up to squeeze Sun Hwa’s right breast, his fingers digging into the soft flesh.

  Gasping in pain, she threw his arm off and rolled away, coming to a stop near the door. She was crouching, staring daggers at him.