The crackle of the walkie-talkie

In the shelter's confined space, now cleared to create a makeshift training area, the air is tense with focus and determination. Joon-ho and I are about to introduce Hye-jin to the vital, albeit grim, combat skills she needs for survival. The lack of a dummy means Hye-jin has to visualise her targets, a method that also hones her imagination and adaptability in real-life scenarios.

Joon-ho picks up a knife, its blade mundane yet menacing in the context of our lesson. "When you're faced with an attacker, especially one of the infected, your goal is to disable them quickly and effectively," he explains, shifting into a stance that balances readiness and caution.

He walks Hye-jin through the grip, the positioning, and the defensive posture necessary when wielding such a weapon. Hye-jin, with a solemn nod, mirrors his actions, her grip steady, her eyes locked onto an imagined adversary. She practises the thrusts and slashes in the air, each motion deliberate, aimed at maximising impact while minimising her own exposure to counterattack.

Then, it is my turn to introduce the spear, an extension of one's will to survive. "This isn't just a weapon; it's your lifeline," I emphasise, showing her how to maintain distance between herself and an attacker. The spear's length is an advantage she needs to exploit, especially against the infected, who rely on proximity to harm.

With each guided movement, Hye-jin learns to manoeuvre the spear, to create imaginary barriers between herself and her foes. She simulates engagements, her focus so intense it is as if her invisible opponents are before her, lending a palpable urgency to her practice.

The most critical part of the training comes next, addressing the infected. "Aim for the head," I instruct firmly, "It's the only way to ensure they stay down." We stress the need for swift, decisive action, guiding her through the motions that could one day save her life. We rely on Hye-jin's ability to envision the scenario, to translate her practised movements into lethal strikes against an unseen enemy. She responds with commendable intensity, her actions precise and her resolve unwavering.

After the intense session, I can see the weight of reality settle on Hye-jin's shoulders, her eyes reflecting the gravity of what she's just embraced. Packing away the training gear, I offer her a reassuring nod, acknowledging her progress and the harsh necessity of what we've undertaken.

"You're getting the hang of it, Hye-jin," I say, placing the last of the spears back into its makeshift rack. "With more practice, these movements will become second nature." She offers a small, somewhat strained smile, the tools of combat still alien in her hands, yet her resolve clear in her gaze.

"I hope I never have to use them," she replies, the sentiment echoing in the cramped space, a shared wish among us. I pause, letting the sincerity of her words sink in before adding, "And hopefully, you won't. The goal is always to avoid conflict, to stay safe. But if it ever comes to it, I want you to be prepared, to stand a chance."

***

The crackle of the walkie-talkie breaks the silence of the evening, startling both Joon-ho and me as we sit planning our next day's activities. We exchange a quick, concerned glance before I grab the device, pressing the button to respond. "Go ahead, Hye-jin," I say, my voice tense with anticipation.

Her voice comes through, laced with anxiety but underscored by a hint of relief. "There's a group of people who've just tried to intrude on my cabin. They got caught up in the traps and barricades we set up around the yard. They're struggling to get through." Joon-ho and I spring into action, all previous tasks forgotten. "Hold tight, Hye-jin. We're on our way," I assure her, already moving towards our cache of weapons.

As we quickly arm ourselves, the importance of the preparations we have made with Hye-jin becomes starkly evident. The traps and barricades aren't just precautions; they are essential defences that have now proven their worth.

The journey to Hye-jin's cabin is swift, our steps hastened by the urgency of the situation. As we approach, we can see the confusion and disarray among the intruders through the trees. The traps we have installed – pits hidden beneath foliage, snares cleverly disguised along the pathways, and barricades reinforcing the cabin's perimeter – have effectively hampered their progress.

From a safe distance, we assess the situation. The group of intruders, now entangled in our web of defences, is clearly struggling. Some are trying to free themselves from snares, while others cautiously navigate around the pitfalls we have set. Their frustration is evident, their attempts to breach the cabin thwarted by our foresight and planning. Joon-ho and I exchange a nod, a silent agreement on how to proceed. Stealthily, we move closer, using the cover of the forest to our advantage.

Our presence still unnoticed, we prepare to confront the intruders, ready to defend Hye-jin's home and, by extension, our own. In the tense silence of the forest, as Joon-ho and I strategise our next move, a sudden, piercing scream shatters the calm. It is a sound of pure agony, emanating from the direction of Hye-jin's cabin. Instinctively, we both tense, our focus immediately drawn towards the source of the disturbance.

"That came from inside the cabin," Joon-ho mutters, his expression grim. "One of the traps must have got them." I nod, a surge of adrenaline coursing through me. Hye-jin had mentioned setting up a few indoor traps as a last line of defence, but to hear one triggered is a stark reminder of the situation's gravity.

"We need to move, now," I say, urgency lacing my words. We move quickly and quietly, using the forest cover to approach the cabin undetected. The screams have ceased, replaced by muffled curses and the sound of frantic movement. It is clear that the intruders are panicking, their initial confidence shattered by the unexpected resistance. Reaching the cabin, we position ourselves outside a window, trying to get a visual on the situation inside.

Through the glass, we can see one of the intruders limping, evidently injured by one of Hye-jin's traps. The others seem hesitant, their attention now divided between helping their companion and the fear of triggering another trap. Joon-ho and I exchange a look, understanding that this is our moment to act. But before we can make a move, the walkie-talkie crackles to life, Hye-jin's voice coming through, steady despite the circumstances.

"I'm in the safe room," she whispers. "They haven't got to me. The extra layers of protection are holding." Relief washes over me, mixed with a renewed determination. "Stay put," I respond quietly. "We're outside. We're going to take care of this now."

With Hye-jin safely hidden away, Joon-ho and I prepare to confront the intruders. The knowledge that she is secure, protected by the very traps she had set, gives us the edge we need. It is a testament to her foresight and our collective planning, a small victory in the face of adversity. The situation inside the cabin is chaotic, but it is clear that the intruders are not prepared for the level of resistance they face.

With a silent nod to each other, Joon-ho and I ready our weapons and step into view.