41 Mysterious group's path
In the aftermath of the battle, the mysterious group, now with Jae-sun in their custody, moves swiftly through the ravaged landscape. The drone, piloted by Joon-ho with me by his side, hovers silently above, tracking their every move. Our eyes are glued to the screen, watching as the group navigates through the debris-strewn streets, their destination unknown.
"They are heading north," Joon-ho mutters, his fingers deftly manipulating the controls. The drone adjusts its course, maintaining a discreet distance.
North... The word echoes in my mind, stirring a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. As the group's path becomes clearer, a cold realisation washes over me. They are moving towards the Hanul Nuclear Power Plant, a site shrouded in fear and deemed off-limits in all my past lives. The very thought of nearing a nuclear facility post-collapse, with the potential risks of radiation exposure, had always been unthinkable. Yet here they are, marching towards it with deliberate intent.
"Why would they go there?" Joon-ho voices the question that hangs heavily between us.
Bang!
Panic sets in as the drone, struck by a well-aimed bullet, spirals uncontrollably out of the sky. On the monitor, the image jerks wildly, then steadies on a skewed view of the ground rushing up to meet it. The drone crashes with a force that sends shards of plastic and metal scattering across the desolate landscape.
"They've seen us," Joon-ho exclaims, his voice edged with urgency. "We need to get there first."
We grab our gear and sprint from the shelter, determination fuelling our rapid pace. The terrain is unforgiving, littered with debris and obstacles, but the need to retrieve the drone overshadows all else. Its data not only holds critical information on the mysterious group but could also reveal our location and the fact that we've been monitoring them. Exposure is a risk we cannot afford.
As we navigate the rough terrain, a vehicle from the group breaks away, kicking up dust as it veers towards the drone's last known coordinates. They are fast, but we have the advantage of knowing the area. Our hearts pound with the exertion and the high stakes of our mission.
Reaching the crash site, we find the drone, its body cracked and one wing mangled. I quickly dislodge the memory card, pocketing it before scanning the area for any sign of the approaching vehicle. The faint sound of an engine grows louder, a clear signal that we have little time.
"We need to hide," I whisper, pulling Joon-ho with me. We duck behind a nearby rubble pile, our breaths shallow as we watch the vehicle approach. The group's members exit the car, their movements methodical as they begin to search the area, their eyes scanning for the downed drone or any sign of who might have controlled it.
Joon-ho and I exchange a silent look, an unspoken agreement passing between us. We need to create a distraction, something to draw them away from the crash site and buy us time to escape. I find a small rock and, with a precise throw, send it clattering against a distant metal carcass.
The sound draws the attention of the group, and they move towards it, weapons at the ready. Seizing the moment, we slip away, using the terrain to mask our escape. Our hearts race as we put distance between ourselves and the group, the adrenaline surging through our veins.
Once we're a safe distance away, we stop to catch our breath.
"The group now knows they're being watched," I say to Joon-ho, the gravity of our situation settling over us like a heavy cloak. "They're aware that someone has the technology and the skill to use a drone for surveillance. This could make them more cautious or, worse, more aggressive in rooting out perceived threats."
Our concern over the group's awareness of our observation is abruptly overshadowed by a more immediate danger. The familiar and dreadful sounds of the infected begin to swell outside our shelter, their moans and erratic movements signalling their approach.
"We need to get back to the shelter, now," Joon-ho says urgently, his eyes scanning our surroundings for the quickest, safest path back.
We hurry through the desolate landscape, the adrenaline surging through our veins as the sounds of the infected grow louder and more menacing.
***
Upon our return to the shelter, breathless and shaken, we find Sue and Hye-jin waiting anxiously. The harrowing events of the day spill out as we recount our surveillance attempt, the drone's destruction, and our narrow escape from the infected horde. Their faces reflect a mix of concern and relief as we conclude our tale, grateful to be alive yet wary of the new dangers that loom on the horizon.
In the midst of our debriefing, a thought strikes me, spurred by the unsettling practices of the mysterious group we've been monitoring—their peculiar interest in the eyes of the infected. "Joon-ho," I say abruptly, "could you check my eyes? I need to be sure there's nothing... unusual about them."
We move to a better-lit area of the shelter, where he examines my eyes carefully, searching for any anomalies or signs that might link me to the oddities we've encountered.
After a thorough inspection, Joon-ho steps back, his expression turning to one of relief. "There's nothing out of the ordinary," he confirms. "Your eyes are just as they should be."
As I sit in the dimly lit corner of our shelter, the day's events replay in my mind, intertwining with a tangle of unresolved questions and theories. The group's interest in the eyes of the infected, their methodical examination, and the subsequent abduction of Jae-sun—they all point to a narrative far beyond the ordinary struggles of survival in this post-apocalyptic world.
Why the eyes? What could possibly be revealed within them that holds such significance?
My own theory—that those who have experienced reincarnation might exhibit peculiarities within their eyes—seemed plausible, even promising. Yet Joon-ho's examination found nothing unusual about my eyes, despite my own experiences and forebodings that suggest a deeper connection to these cycles of life and death.
What does this mean? Am I wrong in my assumptions, or is the truth more complex than a simple visual indicator? Could the changes, if there are any, be more subtle, detectable only under certain conditions or with specific technologies that the group might possess?
And then there's Jae-sun. If the group has taken him because they believe he possesses knowledge or attributes from a past life, what does that mean for him? For us? If they are seeking those who have reincarnated? Who are they?
As these questions swirl through my mind, a new imperative emerges: we must ascertain the group's destination, especially whether they are heading toward the Hanul Nuclear Power Plant. Initially, I had dismissed the plant as a potential haven for any group, its dangers too pronounced, its halls echoing with the silent threat of radiation. But now, given the group's unexpected actions and interests, assumptions are a luxury we can no longer afford.
The nuclear plant, a hulking monument to a world that once was, now stands as a mystery, possibly harbouring the group and their secrets. Yet, the stark reality is that they significantly outnumber and outgun us. Direct confrontation would be foolhardy, a likely suicide mission that would jeopardise not just our lives but the fragile stability we've managed to carve out in this chaos-ridden world.
The deep furrow of contemplation is abruptly interrupted by Joon-ho's urgent approach. His expression is a mix of confusion and concern, signalling that whatever he has discovered is both unexpected and potentially significant.
"I was monitoring Jae-sun's camp with a new drone, trying to see if there are any new movements," he explains, his words quick with the rush of his discovery. "And I saw something strange—military trucks, but not like any I've seen before. They were flamboyantly decorated, almost ostentatious, and they were loaded with supplies. They're heading towards the town centre of the largest city in the area."
