The Bunker Door Opens

The day after her first university final exams had just ended. Having slept barely at all throughout the exam period, Boyeon spent the entire day in bed, catching up on rest.

Boyeon woke up groggy and read the message in a daze.

Red… mist…?

She thought of natural phenomena like red tides or the watermelon snow of the Alps, but she had no idea what an infectious substance might mean.

The night before, the news had reported that dozens of meteors would fall over an extended period. Most would burn up due to immense drag and heat upon entering Earth’s atmosphere unless they were exceptionally large, and seventy percent of those that survived would land in the ocean. Hardly anyone had paid the meteors much attention.

She was still wondering what on earth was happening when—

Boom! An explosion sounded somewhere nearby.

Boyeon dashed into the living room. Her eyes met those of a man standing just beyond the wall. The way he stared straight through her was chilling. The whites of his eyes were completely bloodshot, as if red ink had spilled across them. His entire body was drenched in blood, especially around the mouth.

Bloodshot eyes. Infected. Extreme violence. Infectious disease.

The words tumbled through her mind in a jumbled rush as panic set in.

The infected man vaulted the wall in an instant and charged toward the living room window. He slammed his head against the glass, and bright red blood poured down in streams.

Bang! Bang! The impacts were deafening. He showed no sign of feeling pain. The force was so savage that cracks spiderwebbed across the window.

“……!”

Boyeon froze for a split second, then snapped back to her senses and ran. The only thought in her head was that she had to hide somewhere safe. Clutching her phone tightly, she sprinted to the study, slammed the door, and locked it. The man chased after her and began pounding on the door. The wooden panel shuddered under his inhuman strength, beginning to splinter.

“Hurry, hurry…”

With trembling hands, Boyeon pulled a red book from the shelf and pressed the hidden button behind it. A locking mechanism released, and the entire bookshelf slid aside.

She slipped into the concealed space and was entering the passcode on the door lock when—

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

Her fingers were slick with sweat. Every cheerful electronic tone made her heart hammer. The bookshelf rattled violently; he must have broken through the study door.

“Graaaah!”

The man’s brute force shook the heavy shelf. Books tumbled. Holes punched through the wooden frame. A blood-soaked hand thrust through the gap, reaching for her.

Boyeon barely managed to tumble through the doorway. She crawled down the stairs on all fours, opened one more thick door, and finally collapsed inside the shelter. She hadn’t taken a single proper breath the entire time.

“……”

When the silence settled—broken only by the frantic thud of her heartbeat—she finally let out the breath she’d been holding.

“Hah… haa… ugh! Hh… ugh!”

And so Boyeon’s life in the bunker began.

A few houses in urban areas have underground air-raid shelters built in preparation for past wars.

Boyeon’s grandfather had purchased one by chance. The space, encased in 120-centimeter reinforced concrete, had been discovered during home renovation. No one had known it existed, but her grandfather refused to let it go to waste. He poured a fortune into outfitting it with state-of-the-art facilities.

Solar power generation, a massive water tank drawing from an underground aquifer, an air purification system capable of filtering contaminants, a food stockpile that could last for years, and every conceivable survival supply.

Before long the bunker had become her grandfather’s hobby, but it was also meant for his children and grandchildren. He had always said he hoped it would never be used. Opening the bunker would mean that the safety of the people he loved was in jeopardy.

Yet less than six months after his death, Boyeon was forced to open the underground bunker.

Deep underground, surrounded by thick concrete, cell service was nearly nonexistent. After gathering her courage, she cracked open the heavy door on the first basement level. After several tense attempts of pressing her phone against every crack in the doorframe connected to the ground floor, she finally managed to get a call through to her aunt.

Her aunt said they would come take refuge there. So would her uncle’s family.

After her parents died in an accident, Boyeon had lived with her grandfather. Even outside of holidays, her aunt’s and uncle’s families often gathered at his house. Everyone knew there was a safe bunker on the property.

“There’s… an infected person… inside the house…”

A horrifying scream cut the call short.

“Aunt! Aunt!”

Boyeon cried out desperately, but there was no answer.

“……”

The fear that something had happened to her aunt was overwhelming. Yet the situation was so urgent that she didn’t dare call back in case it put her aunt in even more danger. She simply sat there, clutching the disconnected phone, staring blankly into space. Only after a full day had passed did she cautiously send a text. There was no reply.

Both her aunt’s and uncle’s phones were off. She couldn’t reach her cousins either. They all lived nearby, yet days passed with no word from any of them.

Boyeon knew they might already be gone. But she refused to think about it too deeply. She sank into a hibernation-like stupor, burying herself as far down as she could go.

Alone in the underground bunker, Boyeon’s empty days slipped by.

For the first few days, the internet still worked.

A so-called specialist appeared on screen to explain the characteristics and contagiousness of the new disease.

A microorganism? Did that mean they had discovered microorganisms inside the meteors? If it were a virus or bacterium, they probably would have used clearer terminology. The wording felt strangely ambiguous.