The dilemma
After a tense and silent ride, Sue and I reach the designated meeting point, a secluded clearing well away from Jae-sun's camp. We dismount the electric bike, and Sue scans our surroundings with a trained eye, still on high alert. We are early, the plan having gone smoother and quicker than either of us dares to hope, but now we must wait for Joon-ho.
The air is filled with the sounds of the forest waking up, a stark contrast to the adrenaline that still pulses through my veins. Sue is quiet, her face a mask of relief and exhaustion, the reality of her escape settling in. We do not speak much; the gravity of our actions and the road ahead unspoken between us.
Minutes tick by, stretching longer with each passing moment, until finally, a rustling in the underbrush signals Joon-ho's arrival. He emerges, slightly out of breath but unharmed, a look of success lighting up his features. "All clear," he says, confirming that our mission went unnoticed, that we have truly escaped.
We waste no time in leaving the meeting point, mounting the electric bike once more with Joon-ho now leading the way on foot to cover our tracks. The journey back to the shelter is cautious but uneventful, the forest providing cover and the early morning light guiding our path.
Upon reaching the shelter, the door swings open, and Hye-jin is there to meet us. Her face reflects a mix of relief and concern as she quickly steps forward to assist Sue, guiding her inside with a gentle yet firm touch.
Inside, Hye-jin transforms into a professional, examining Sue for any immediate medical needs. It is apparent that Sue's recent experiences have drained her physically and mentally. She barely manages a nod and a weak smile before her exhaustion overtakes her, and she falls asleep almost instantly on one of the makeshift beds.
I watch this unfold, a mixture of emotions swirling within me. Relief that Sue is safe, admiration for her resilience, and a budding sense of hope for what her presence could mean for our group. It was a stroke of luck, finding her, but it is clear she is not just a survivor; she is a fighter, potentially a vital asset to our team.
Her skills, her experience, her sheer determination - they could be game-changers for us. In this harsh new world where every advantage counts, Sue's background could bolster our group's chances of survival and success. I find myself silently thanking whatever twist of fate brought her to us, recognising the potential she brings to our collective table.
***
Sue's awakening is gradual, her eyes flickering open as she takes in her surroundings with a wary alertness that speaks of her recent ordeal. The rest of us are close by, ready to support and fill her in on our current situation, but also eager to hear what she knows.
Once she is fully conscious, Hye-jin offers her some water, and I introduce myself properly, reminding her of our past connection. There is a flicker of recognition, a nod, and a faint smile, but it is clear her mind is crowded with more pressing concerns.
"We are safe here," I assure her, trying to offer some comfort. "You are with friends."
Gratitude passes over Sue's face, but it is quickly replaced by a steely resolve. "The government and military are regrouping in Busan. They are calling for all survivors to head there." She says.
"I was trying to get there... with my family." Her voice breaks for a moment, the pain raw and palpable. "But we were ambushed by Jae-sun's group. I... I was the only one who made it."
The grief in her eyes is unmistakable, a deep, personal loss that is all too familiar in these times. Yet beneath the sorrow, there is a burning anger, a fierce desire for retribution.
"They took everything from me."
The room falls silent, each of us processing her words, understanding the depth of her pain and her resolve. It is a sentiment we can all relate to on some level, the loss and the anger, the need for justice—or at least vengeance.
Sue's hands are still shaking as she holds onto the cup of water, her gaze distant, reflecting the turmoil inside her. I sit beside her, trying to provide a sense of calm and stability in the midst of her emotional storm.
"Sue, your strength and will to fight are clear, and your anger is justified," I say softly, ensuring my voice conveys empathy and understanding. "But right now, the most important battle is for your health. We need you strong and alert for whatever comes next. Recovery is your priority."
Her eyes, filled with a mix of pain and determination, meet mine, and for a moment, there is a flicker of acceptance, a recognition of the necessity to heal. "I feel so lost," she whispers, vulnerability breaking through her hardened exterior.
"You have survived through unimaginable trials, Sue. That is not a sign of weakness but of remarkable strength," I assure her, offering a supportive presence. "We will plan our next steps carefully, and we will do it together. But for now, please rest. Your well-being is crucial to us."
She gives a slight nod, a subtle acknowledgment of the need to focus on her recovery, allowing the tension to ebb away, if only slightly.
As she tries to settle into a restful state, I step aside to discuss our situation with Joon-ho. He is waiting with a question that has been on all our minds, and we move to a discreet corner for privacy.
"What are we going to do about Jae-sun's group?" Joon-ho asks in a low tone, concern etched on his face. "They are not just going to disappear."
The dilemma is real and pressing. "I am aware of the threat they pose," I reply, feeling the strain of leadership. "Our immediate focus has to be on fortifying our position and ensuring Sue, and all of us, are in optimal condition. Engaging Jae-sun's group without full preparation would be a grave mistake. They outnumber us and likely outgun us."
Understanding flickers in Joon-ho's eyes. "So, we lay low and strengthen our defences?"
"Exactly," I confirm, feeling the gravity of our choices. "Our advantage is our cohesion and our adaptability. We cannot afford to lose that by acting impulsively. We will keep monitoring them, stay one step ahead, and avoid direct confrontation until we have a solid plan. For now, safeguarding this group and maintaining our security is paramount."
"And about Busan," Joon-ho begins, his voice low, aware of the importance of the subject. "We have an apartment there, a shelter. Do you think we should also start considering moving down there at some point? If the government and military are functioning…"
I pause, weighing my response carefully. Joon-ho's concern is valid, and the idea of Busan as a stronghold is tempting, but my experiences tell a different, more complex story.
"It is not that straightforward," I reply, meeting his gaze. "Yes, we have a place in Busan, a fallback spot. But moving there is not a decision to be taken lightly. In my past experiences, Busan's fate was never certain. Sometimes it stood strong, a beacon for survivors. Other times, it fell, just like everywhere else."
I let those words sink in, the uncertainty of our world laid bare. "Right now, this shelter is secure, hidden, and sustainable. We have got resources, a solid group, and a defensible position. Rushing to Busan without clear evidence that it is safe and stable would be a gamble, one we might not survive."
"For now," I continue. "Let us focus on how to deal with Jae-sun's group."
Joon-ho nods, understanding the prudence of the approach.