Chapter 17 - Supply Retrieval Team and the Warehouse

The five of them moved quietly, making no sound as they made their way to the staff room.

Among them, Jun was lost in thought.

That summer day.

The day he had kept silent.

Late August.

The cicadas were buzzing noisily.

The asphalt road was as hot as an iron plate from the sun’s heat.

He remembered how the direct sunlight and heat radiating from the asphalt pressed down on him from both sides, causing him to sweat heavily.

When he opened the door to his house, there was an unusual smell.

Still, he didn’t find it strange; he carelessly kicked off his shoes and called out, “I’m home!”

What first caught his eyes was red.

Of course, the living room of his house wasn’t decorated in red.

The room was soaked in an overwhelming amount of blood.

And lying on the floor were his mother, father, and grandmother.

A man slowly stood up.

That unfamiliar man grabbed his little sister by the hair and dragged her as he approached Jun.

Blood rushed through Jun’s body.

His pulse quickened.

Even when he tried to run, his body wouldn’t obey.

His breathing grew heavy.

The man leaned close to Jun’s ear and whispered:

“How do you feel right now?”

In that moment, Jun tried to scream with all the strength he had.

But no sound came out.

The man’s face was hard to see in the backlight, but because the man slowly came closer, Jun was able to make out his face.

That man alone—Jun vowed to kill him with his own hands.

With these hands…

Clatter.

The sound of the staff room door opening snapped him back to reality.

That guy must have fallen to hell in this chaos too.

Even if he escaped the police, he can’t escape the damned.

If not, if Jun didn’t think that way, he couldn’t contain this rising anger inside his heart.

Even amidst this disaster, the staff room still retained a trace of normalcy.

Documents and papers were scattered across the floor, but there were no shadows of zombies, nor any blood in sight.

“Alright, does anyone know the dial number?” Tooru asked everyone.

Since it was a rotary dial, they naturally had to input a number, but the students were not informed of what the number was.

Saya spoke up.

“The students don’t know it, so I’m not sure, but there should be some kind of disaster manual in the staff room, right?”

Exactly.

In fact, after a brief search, they found the manual and discovered the dial number.

“4, 6, 9, 2…”

As Tooru spoke the numbers aloud, he set the dial accordingly.

Then, with a click, the door opened.

“Alright, let’s carry the contents out.”

Inside the storage room were various supplies, from blankets and foodstuffs to portable toilets.

They knew these were stockpiled for disasters, but facing such an amount was overwhelming.

“Let’s start by carrying the blankets first. Then the food supplies next. Don’t forget the drinking water. If there’s time after that, let’s bring the clothes.”

Though called blankets, they were packed in bags for storage, so they didn’t take up much space.

Two people could handle fifteen blankets easily.

Saya and Jun were handed the blankets.

“Pack the food into these bags. Carry the drinking water by hand.”

After Tsubasa stuffed as many bottles of water into the bag as possible, he struggled to carry the rest of the bottles with both hands.

Then Tooru took the remaining bottles and stood up carrying the clothes.

Kazuma was assigned as their guard.

“Alright then, let’s head back.”

“Got it! Leave the guard to me!”

Kazuma eagerly started walking.

His figure looked just like a boy going off to catch beetles, making the supply team burst out laughing.

Everyone except Jun.

He didn’t remember much immediately after that incident.

The world seemed to have reported it widely as the “Shimoicho Family Massacre,” but he himself wasn’t interested in it at all.

All that ruled his heart was the sadness that his family had disappeared while he understood nothing.

What he dis remember after that incident was the day his surname changed to “Haiga.”

Maybe they didn’t want a child who couldn’t speak, or maybe they cared about what others thought.

He was passed around among relatives, but no one took him in.

Seeing that, Saya’s father took hin in.

“Saya, from today on, this is Jun, your little brother. Please get along with him.”

Saya replied that she understood, then sent her father out of the room and turned to Jun.

Looking back, Saya was probably quite mature for her age.

She understood the meaning of the family massacre, and more than anything, she tried to heal another’s wounds.

She hugged him and said,

“Were you lonely? Were you sad? It’s okay. From now on, I’m here with you.”

He didn’t cry.

He just couldn’t leave her arms.

Because if he did, he felt like he might be lost somewhere again.

And then he fell asleep.

It was the first peaceful sleep in weeks.