Chapter 22 - Chapter 20: The Story of the Hara-Hara Tokei
(T/N: "Hara-Hara Tokei" refers to an infamous 1974 manual for guerrilla warfare and bomb-making in Japan.)
Nearly two weeks had passed since we started living in the apartment with Naomi-san. The wound on my arm had mostly closed, but the effects of losing a large amount of blood remained. Just going up and down the stairs left me breathless, and putting strength into my arm caused sharp pain. Naomi-san was out looking for supplies and anything that could be used for an escape, while Yui and Mana-chan were helping with preparations—packing bags and monitoring the movements of the infected. However, for these two weeks, I was the only one who could do nothing, harboring a constant feeling of gloom.
In the end, I didn't have the courage to tell Mana-chan that I had killed her parents. That day we ate the yakitori, Naomi-san said we should talk more openly about ourselves, but to the end, I couldn't confess that I had killed not only my own parents but Mana-chan's as well.
Why? Was it simply because I was a coward, afraid of Mana-chan calling me a liar? Was it because I feared being cursed as a murderer? Or was it because I didn't want to rob Mana-chan of her hope for living? Or all of the above?
I don't know. But one thing I can say for sure is that I lacked courage. We could live safely here; there was no fear of the infected attacking. But perhaps that fact had made me spineless. No, maybe I wasn't a person with much backbone to begin with, but it's certain that life here had drained something out of me.
I had become "enervated," one might say. Before coming here, I thought only about surviving every day, and I had no room to think about anything else. That was the same even after Yui and Mana-chan joined as companions.
But since coming here, I've gained some leeway. That in itself should be a good thing. Having leeway means being able to rest slowly and think things through calmly. However, having been constantly on the move until now, my attachment to life might have withered over these past few days.
After all, I had never even considered what today's meal would be or thought about reading a book because I was bored. It was like the life I led months ago. However, if I step outside, the "extraordinary" that has once again become the "ordinary" will be waiting for me.
Yet, I'm even enjoying life here. That might be the primary reason I've become so soft.
Nevertheless, it's certain that we will be leaving this apartment soon. When that happens, I'll probably return to my former self. To a self that isn't a weakling.
Today, too, Naomi-san was sneaking out of the apartment to avoid being spotted by the infected, searching for items or routes that could be used for escape. Yui and Mana-chan were going around the many rooms to gather supplies. Since I could finally use my hands, I was organizing things that could serve as weapons.
Naomi-san possessed a large number of blades she had gathered from somewhere. They ranged from meat cleavers to large knives called Kukris, used by warrior tribes, which looked like they could slice through human limbs with ease. Apparently, one of the apartment residents had been a blade collector, and a large number of blades had been displayed in that room. Since they lived in an apartment like this, they must have been quite wealthy, but I don't really understand the hobbies of the rich.
From the many blades lined up on a blanket spread on the floor, I picked up an axe. It wasn't the kind used for carpentry like cutting wood; it was a combat axe—a tomahawk. It was about 40 centimeters long, sturdily built with the head and handle as one piece. If I slammed this into a human head, there was no doubt it would end up like a sliced pineapple in one blow.
Naomi-san had recommended I carry an axe, considering when my arm would be healed. She said that because an axe has weight, it's good for bludgeoning, good for hacking, good for destroying obstacles like doors, and good for throwing—making it the second most useful weapon in close combat. Incidentally, she said the strongest weapon for close combat is a shovel, though I don't really know the reason.
Personally, I thought the bat I had been using was better, but while a bat has a long reach, it's difficult to kill an opponent in one hit. You have to hit the head several times to take them down, and since skulls are round, it can sometimes slip. Thinking about it that way, an axe might be more useful in close combat with the infected, but either way, it's a useless item unless I practice.
There were also hatchets, machetes, and large knives that looked like they could easily butcher animals lined up on the blanket. All of them were sharpened to a keen edge, looking like they would cut a hand just by touching them. Naomi-san said blades were easier to use than guns, but I wonder what kind of warrior tribe that person came from?
There were various weapons besides blades.
I turned my gaze toward the beer crates stacked in the corner of the room. The many beer bottles lined up in the crates were filled with a transparent liquid, but their true identity was apparently a fuel Naomi-san made by mixing gasoline and coal tar and adding aluminum powder. In short, Molotov cocktails. For Naomi-san, who had been taught guerrilla warfare methods in a militia organization to prepare for war, making Molotov cocktails was child's play.
There were plenty of abandoned cars with gasoline outside, and since no one was visiting gas stations, there should be plenty of fuel left. We wouldn't lack materials for making Molotov cocktails.
The only problem was their low killing power. I had previously seen an infected person continue running even while engulfed in flames. I don't know how long an infected person can stay alive while wrapped in fire, but killing them instantly would be impossible.
However, Naomi-san had a throwing weapon other than Molotov cocktails. A hand grenade.
Apparently recovered from a JSDF truck that had overturned on a bridge, that single hand grenade was the most powerful weapon we currently had. After all, it was a real weapon; it was in a completely different league from bats or crossbows. It seemed the JSDF had recovered most of their other weapons when they retreated, leaving only that one grenade behind.
Perhaps thinking it was dangerous to let amateurs like us hold it, Naomi-san always kept the grenade on her person. Though, even a child like Mana-chan wouldn't treat a grenade like a toy.
Thinking about it this way, it seemed we had quite a few weapons. But the problem was the people handling them. Mana-chan, an elementary schooler, was out of the question, and it was doubtful if even Yui could fight properly. Inevitably, the only people who could fight were Naomi-san and me, but I still had lingering effects from my injury. Even if I fully recovered, I'd probably have my hands full just protecting myself. Naomi-san said she could do the work of ten people by herself, so she was reliable, but still.
Therefore, as we had done until now, we had to avoid fighting as much as possible. That would be the same when we escaped this apartment. If we were spotted by the infected, those who couldn't fight would be the first to be eaten.
With the infected loitering around the apartment, how could we escape from here without being spotted by them? That was what was currently troubling us. A forced breakthrough with the resolve to commit suicide was never an option from the start. The important thing was for everyone to escape from here and reach a safe place. That was all.
Looking at the clock, it was already past three. It was about time for Naomi-san to return. I wonder if Naomi-san was able to find a means of escape? Thinking that, I stood up to move to the room where everyone gathered.