Chapter 13 - Chapter 11.5: The Great Escape Story
My computer was broken, so the update has been quite delayed. Not the computer again, it keeps breaking.
I'm sorry for being late, please forgive me, I'll do anything!
Along with a thunderous sound like a futon being beaten even louder and more heavily, a single helicopter flies overhead. Was that a JSDF helicopter called a Black Hawk? Previously, a friend who is a so-called "military otaku" lent me a DVD of a movie where that helicopter gets shot down.
There, I suddenly realize I'm dreaming. I had seen this same scene before. In these past few months, I haven't seen anything flying in the sky besides birds and insects. Then this must be a dream. It's a bit of a strange feeling to clearly know I'm dreaming within a dream, but even so, I can't wake up or move my body as I wish in the dream. Until I wake up, I have no choice but to keep watching this scene.
Brightly burning flames illuminate the body of the Black Hawk helicopter flying toward the south. Several pillars of fire rise from the city, staining the night sky bright red like a sunset, but the sirens of fire engines that accompany fires are not heard. Instead, what echoes are continuous gunfire and explosions, the sound of helicopter rotors, and the roar of jet planes. And people's screams.
My gaze lowers, and a family walking in front of me enters my vision. A man and woman in their mid-thirties who seem to be parents, and a girl in her early teens who seems to be their daughter. They are carrying large backpacks on their backs and bulging bags in both hands, walking silently and persistently.
"There is a helipad 500 meters ahead. Please stay calm, do not disturb the order, and proceed straight!"
A slightly cracked voice is heard through a loudspeaker. Turning toward the voice, on top of a wheeled armored vehicle painted in dark green and brownish-red, a JSDF member in camouflage uniform with a loudspeaker was calling out to the people passing by. It's a scene like JSDF members guiding people evacuating from an earthquake or something, but the automatic rifles they hold announce that this is an extraordinary situation. A large heavy machine gun is also mounted on the roof of the armored vehicle, its muzzle pointed toward the road we came from. Although the JSDF members with rifles don't point their muzzles at us, they turn sharp gazes toward the people and maintain a posture where they can fire at any time.
I return my gaze to the front. What I see is just people, people, people. Everyone seems exhausted, walking in silence. Occasionally, they momentarily tremble at the sound of gunfire echoing nearby, then increase their walking pace and continue forward.
Is it still safe here? Many people have large luggage as if they've stuffed all their household goods into it, like the family walking in front. In contrast, people walking empty-handed with only the clothes on their backs are in the minority, and I was one of them.
When I fled the shelter, I left behind my cell phone, wallet, and everything else. What I'm wearing is just an unremarkable school uniform; while other people are layering jumpers and such, I only have a gakuran, a sweater, a dress shirt, and an inner shirt. Although winter is ending, it's still chilly, and the wind that blows occasionally pierces my body mercilessly.
As I continue walking, a passenger car that had been in an accident comes into view ahead. The windshield of the one-box car that slammed into a utility pole and crumpled is shattered into pieces, and no one is visible in the driver's seat. A few meters ahead, perhaps because they were thrown out by the impact of the collision, a person covered in blood and twisted strangely was lying there. I wonder if they weren't wearing a seatbelt. Either way, that person isn't moving an inch.
"Hih...!"
The mother walking in front twitches her face at the sight of that person, who now looks like nothing more than a red rag. The father quickly covered his daughter's eyes with both hands so she wouldn't witness a scene that would surely be rated R18.
Some people perhaps couldn't take it; the wet sound of vomit being spewed onto the asphalt is heard from behind. But that also recedes quickly, and I passed by the side of the bloody corpse.
I had seen scenes much worse than this many times at the school that had become a shelter.
Proceeding further down the road, a sign saying Sports Park was standing by the side of the road. Simultaneously, what entered my vision were several patrol cars parked as if to block the road, and the figures of many police officers. There were those in uniform and those in riot police dispatch uniforms, and some were men in suits who might be detectives, but what they all had in common was a handgun hanging from everyone's waist. While the riot police I usually see on TV only have duralumin shields, some of the members in front of us were carrying submachine guns.
"Please do not stop, do not panic. Please proceed while properly following the order."
A police officer in uniform points a guidance light toward the sports park. The red light hurts my eyes.
"A checkpoint has been set up ahead; those who are injured cannot proceed beyond there! I repeat, those who are injured..."
A member calls out, but the people don't raise their heads. I could tell a few people momentarily trembled, but even so, there was nothing I could do. A tense murderous intent, as if one would be shot dead in an instant if they moved poorly, drifted around.
"Luggage will be limited to one per person! This is a measure to evacuate as many people as possible, we ask for your cooperation."
While the police officer raises his voice, we pass between patrol cars parked alternately on the two-lane road, perhaps to prevent vehicles from entering, and proceed further. I glanced at the face of a uniformed officer as I passed by, and that face was tense with strain. But I noticed that a feeling of fear was mixed into that expression.
The mysterious infectious disease originating from Africa that had been making noise on TV for a little while ago swept the world in no time and landed in Japan. Humans infected with that unknown virus, which is transmitted by droplets, lose their reason, become feral, and start attacking others.
It has only been three days since that infected person was confirmed in Japan. Any plan that had been made in advance collapsed easily before the infectious power and speed that exceeded expectations. The infected, increasing in a geometric progression, were now appearing all over Japan.
The government has apparently already given up on containing the virus and switched to a policy of evacuating survivors to areas where infections have not yet occurred, such as remote islands, secluded places, or ships at sea. The JSDF has already been deployed for public security, but because their numbers were originally small due to the impact of defense budget cuts in recent years, they didn't seem to be responding well to the infected who were multiplying explosively and simultaneously across the country.
The sports park I'm currently heading to was designated as a temporary helipad, and there the JSDF was shuttle-transporting survivors to ships at sea. I don't know where they intend to evacuate to while the infected are multiplying not just in Japan but all over the world, but even so, it's certain that dying can be delayed a little. That's why I came all the way here relying on the shelter information read out by an automatic voice every few hours on a half-broken portable radio I picked up along the way. TV isn't showing anything anymore, perhaps because the staff were wiped out or the transmission facilities became unmanned, and to begin with, there's a power outage even if I tried to watch TV. The radio is still working hard, but it's only a matter of time before the broadcast stops.
The city, which had been enveloped in darkness due to the power outage, had fires occurring here and there due to accidents that happened when people tried to escape. Intense gunfire can be heard from the city, perhaps because the JSDF is continuing mop-up operations against the infected, but even I can tell it's impossible to annihilate the infected who are increasing one after another. While our fighting force only decreases, the infected are steadily increasing. To annihilate the infected all at once, there's no choice but to burn the city down with bombing or something.
The sound of helicopter rotors is heard again. When people, including myself, raised our eyes, a transport helicopter equipped with rotors at the front and back of its large body was descending toward the sports park. Seeing that, people, perhaps driven by the desire to escape from here quickly, pushed aside those lined up in front or tried to cut in line and were restrained by the police. Perhaps because everyone has lost their composure, arguments about pushing or not pushing developed into fistfights, and riot police members pulled them apart and took them somewhere.
There was not a fragment of the Japanese spirit that was praised even overseas for acting while maintaining order even during disasters. It's only natural. Earthquakes and typhoons don't chase and try to kill humans, but the infected will chase you until they lose sight of you if they see a human figure. If you're caught, you'll be eaten to death, or if you're unlucky, you'll join their ranks. While such things are happening all over Japan, few people would go out of their way to line up and try to evacuate. Everyone must want to escape from here right now.
A tent that seems to be a checkpoint set up at the entrance of the sports park finally becomes visible through the gaps between the heads of the lined-up people. Simultaneously, the pace at which the line proceeds dropped all at once. It's the same as on highways and such; it likely takes time because various things are checked at the checkpoint.
"You, you there!"
A young female police officer is shouting something toward here. I looked around to see who she was calling, but other people were also just looking around like me, and no one tried to go to the officer. Perhaps losing her patience, the officer ran over.
"That boy in the school uniform!"
School uniform? I looked at the front and back of the line, but I'm the only one wearing a school uniform. Does that mean she's calling me?
"Um, what is it?"
"It's dangerous when you evacuate, so could you hand over that rod?"
Only then did I realize that I had been gripping an iron rod in my right hand until now. The rebar about 50 centimeters long that I obtained when escaping from the school is radiating quite a bit of warmth, perhaps because it had been gripped for a long time.
"Ah, yes. I'm sorry."
It's likely to prevent evacuees from rioting and harming the police and others. Looking around, I saw police officers confiscating things that could become weapons from people in the line, just like with me. Metal bats, golf clubs, and some even had what looked like Japanese swords.
Simultaneously, the confiscation of luggage has also begun in order to carry many people. Earlier on the way here, a police officer warned that luggage was limited to one per person, but everyone probably ignored it, thinking there was no way it would actually be confiscated. Arguments with police officers have started here and there. For people who must have brought out all their valuables, clothes, and other property and necessities when leaving home, the luggage is literally their future sustenance for life. It's natural that they can't obediently obey when told to throw it away, but if they bring a lot of luggage onto the helicopter for themselves, the number of people who can evacuate will decrease accordingly.
The family that was in front of me was also arguing after being told by a riot police member to throw away their luggage. But faced with the two choices of "throw away the luggage and get on the helicopter, or stay here," they handed over the luggage to the member as if throwing it at him.
As for me, since the hand of the young female officer approaching was on the holster at her waist, I decided to obediently hand over the rebar. There's no need to go out of my way to cause trouble, and here there is also the JSDF who have powerful weapons and are well-trained. Even if I don't have a weapon, they will fight for me.
My right hand, which had become strange in its muscles because I'd been gripping it the whole time, was difficult to move, and since it was frustrating, I used my left hand to pull the rebar out of my right hand and presented it to the officer. She, who showed a relieved expression that I had obediently handed over the weapon, twitched her face the next moment when she saw the blood staining the tip of the presented rebar and the encrusted pieces of flesh.
"...Thank you for your cooperation."
I wonder if the female officer who hurried back hasn't killed an infected yet? But in these three days from when the shelter was attacked until I reached here, I had cracked the heads of several infected with that rebar from earlier.
Among the infected I killed are also my parents.
I look forward to your opinions and impressions.