Chapter 72 - Chapter 70: A Story of Children Just Running and Fleeing Earnestly
Until now, the story has been depicted from the protagonist's subjective view, but from this time for a while, the story will proceed from a third-person perspective.
Ota Yuki was fleeing in confusion. Under a sky covered with gray clouds, he desperately runs around the town where corpses roll here and there. Every time a gunshot echoed behind him, he felt like he heard a scream.
"Damn it, what's with that guy! That's cheating!"
He has a police revolver in his hand, but with something like this on the verge of running out of ammo, he probably won't be a match for "that guy." After all, "that guy" possessed not only a handgun but also a submachine gun capable of rapid fire, and several guns seemed to be loaded in the wagon he came in.
It was yesterday evening when he resolved to attack "that guy" who came to town in a wagon. There was already almost no food left in the shelter, and even if they went out to town and scoured private houses, there was almost nothing to be gained. A life where a day's meal is one cracker and one thin slice of salami has already continued for a week.
Yuki, a middle schooler, was brought to the shelter by his parents immediately after the pandemic occurred. He knew from the TV that a virus that eliminates human reason and makes them turn violent was spreading worldwide. And fortunately, the population of this town was not very large, and even after the virus landed in Japan, Yuki and the others had never seen an infected person.
The problem was food and other supplies rather than the infected. About 500 people, including Yuki's family, came to the elementary school designated as a shelter, but most of them were optimistic about the situation. Even when the outbreak of a new flu was shouted about before, the situation eventually settled down without much damage. This time too, if they stayed in the shelter and waited for a while, the government would issue a declaration of termination and come to help. Holding such hope, the people in the shelter waited for rescue, building barricades and repairing fences just in case.
However, no matter how long they waited, the government never issued a declaration of the situation's termination. On the contrary, lifelines were cut off, and the movement of cars ceased. It didn't take long for the stockpiled food to be exhausted.
After the food stored at the school for emergencies ran out, they went out of the shelter to scour private houses and shops, or tried to plow the schoolyard to make a field. However, there weren't many shops in this town where the population was originally small, and the amount of crops that could be harvested from the field they somehow completed through trial and error was negligible. By the time six months had passed, the people in the shelter had fallen into a state of chronic starvation.
As the nutritional situation worsened and the medical system literally collapsed in addition to that, deaths began to occur one after another in the shelter. The area of the cemetery became larger than the field in the schoolyard, and it was not uncommon for someone to never wake up every morning.
And a month ago, as October entered its middle, the adults went out of town to procure supplies. Most of the food remaining in the town's private houses had already been recovered and consumed. To survive, they had no choice but to procure food from outside the town.
The food procurement team of nearly 20 people, formed by gathering men confident in their strength and hunting gun owners, never returned. The whereabouts of the women who left the shelter to look for their husbands and sons who didn't return are also unknown. As a result, only children were left behind in the shelter. The few adults who remained died soon after aggravating the flu that was prevalent in the shelter.
In the shelter where only children remained, the middle schooler Yuki was the oldest. People in the shelter died one after another from illness or malnutrition, and the situation was such that only about 20 people, middle and elementary schoolers combined, remained.
Two weeks ago, Yuki and the others witnessed a truck coming to this town. Two adult survivors were in the truck, apparently thinking of this land, where there was originally little car traffic, as an ideal refuge. And in its cargo bed, several cardboard boxes containing supplies were loaded.
It didn't take long for the children to resolve to attack them. Yuki and the others approached the two survivors pretending to ask for help, and then stabbed them repeatedly with hidden knives. The survivors, who were careless because they were children, approached carelessly to help them and were killed by the children.
It took the form of betraying the survivors' goodwill, but Yuki and the others had no regrets. Surviving themselves is the top priority now, and they don't care about anyone other than their comrades. Yuki and the others didn't even look at the two corpses rolling on the ground, looted the food loaded on the truck, and returned to the shelter.
However, food that would be a considerable amount for two people would disappear in an instant if shared among 20 people. Yuki and the others began to starve again. And just when they started to seriously consider digging up corpses for food, the wagon with "that guy" on it came to this town.
Naturally, Yuki and the others resolved to attack. The survivors they killed had two handguns. There was no spare ammo, but according to the lookout, only one survivor had come. Judging that they could kill him easily, Yuki gathered six other comrades and headed to attack the survivor in the wagon——.
Yuki came to his senses at the sound of another gunshot. How many of the six comrades who headed to attack "that guy" together were still alive? Thinking that he might be the last, Yuki was terrified.
"That guy" seemed to welcome Yuki and the others with a smile at first. He spoke in a voice that sounded concerned, but he never tried to approach them himself. Just when Yuki and the others had no choice but to approach and pull guns from their bosoms, "that guy" leveled the submachine gun hanging from his shoulder and added full-auto fire against the lined-up children.
Only Yuki and one other boy were able to respond to the sudden situation. Elementary schoolers and middle schoolers, boys and girls, were shot. The moment they pulled out their weapons, "that guy" fired as if he had predicted that Yuki and the others would attack him.
Seeing "that guy" calmly deliver the finishing blow to the fallen children, Yuki and the others could only run. Ignoring the groans of the children asking for help, Yuki and the others fled while firing warning shots. Yuki, who had been playing FPS games, was convinced he had a talent for guns, but not a single bullet hit "that guy."
"What is with that guy! Even though he's not that different in age from us!"
The remaining ammo in the revolver in his hand is two rounds. With this, he can't possibly defeat "that guy."
Anyway, he has to run now. Just as he thought that and tried to start running toward the shelter, Yuki noticed that strength suddenly left his legs. When he happened to look at his right leg, the calf part of his pants was dyed bright red. The moment he realized it was his own blood, intense pain attacked him.
Yuki, screaming in agony, saw something move in the corner of his vision. Enduring the pain, he fires the handgun with two remaining rounds while sitting down. The next moment, the handgun he was clutching was blown away along with his fingers.
"Ugh... Gyaaaaaah!"
A boy approaches Yuki, who is writhing in agony, pressing his right hand, which has now turned into a mere lump of red meat, with his left hand. Through vision blurred by tears, Yuki looked up at the face of a boy about high school age.
The scar that looked like it had been gouged, running from his forehead to his right cheek, first caught his eye. However, from those eyes, not a single emotion could be gathered. He's like a robot, Yuki thought.
Unlike when he was at the car, the boy carried a long automatic rifle in his hand. He probably shot his leg with that, which had a scope attached, and sniped his hand along with the handgun. A holster with a handgun was on his thigh, and on the tactical vest he wore, pouches contained magazines for the rifle and submachine gun, as well as hand grenades. He was just like a JSDF member.
"What are you...!"
Instead of an answer, the boy steps hard on Yuki's shot right leg. The sole of the hard boot crushed the wound and gave Yuki even more intense pain. Like a broken faucet being twisted, blood flowed out from the shot right leg and dripped onto the ground.
"Hey. Among the bunch trying to attack me, you're the only one left alive."
The boy said in a tone as if talking to a friend, yet it was chilling. He casts an inorganic, emotionless gaze at Yuki, as if observing a dying insect. Yuki, seeing those eyes of the boy, had involuntarily urinated.
We attacked someone we shouldn't have laid hands on. Yuki realized that. It's not a matter of weapons or numbers; they shouldn't have made an enemy of this boy. This boy, who shot and killed children he was worried about just a second ago the moment they showed weapons without mercy, holds no taboo against killing.
Even Yuki and the others felt guilt about killing people. But they killed two people and stole weapons and supplies, making the excuse that it was to survive. But the boy in front of him is killing people as if it were natural. Otherwise, he wouldn't be able to take four lives in a few seconds with such movements.
This guy is broken. To Yuki, who intuited that, the boy said again.
"So, your comrades aren't just those, right? There should be more. Could you tell me where your comrades are?"
"I don't know what you're——"
There are still more than 10 comrades left in the shelter. If he were to spill the location of the shelter, the boy in front of him would head straight there. And just as he killed the other five, he would surely shower the surviving children with bullets.
As the leader, he had to avoid such a situation at all costs. Yuki tried to endure the pain and deceive him, but it was useless. The boy stepped on Yuki's uninjured left hand with his boot with all his might.
Along with the sound of bones breaking, several fingers twisted in an impossible direction. The boy, who grabbed and lifted the hair of Yuki who screamed again in unbearable agony, said this at a distance where their faces almost touched.
"Stop being stubborn. I just want to ask your comrades various things about the matter of you guys attacking me."
"You're planning to kill everyone anyway...!"
"I won't, for now. If I hear the reason why you attacked, have them give an apology and compensation, and have them promise never to lay a hand on me again. So could you tell me the location of your surviving comrades? If you do, I'll release you."
As usual, no emotion oozed from those eyes. All that was there was just a deep, dark darkness.
He could no longer endure the pain. When the boy thrust a finger into the wound on Yuki's leg, blood overflowed again. Unable to endure the intense pain that wiped away his resolve of a few seconds ago, Yuki was screaming.
"The school, it's the school! Everyone is in the elementary school gym north of here! Please forgive me, I'm sorry for attacking!"
Toward the end, he was crying. Not just the age difference between a middle schooler and a high schooler, but an instinctive fear made Yuki utter words of apology. To Yuki, who repeated "I'm sorry, please forgive me" like a young child, the boy poured an inorganic gaze as usual and let go of the hair he was grabbing.
"Doesn't seem like a lie."
"It's true, please believe me!"
"Alright, I'll believe you. Then as promised, I'll release you."
Before Yuki could feel relieved that he was saved, the boy pulled a handgun from his holster. Seeing the muzzle pointed at his own head, Yuki's face twitched.
"Y-You said you'd release me..."
"I did, but I didn't say I wouldn't kill you. Besides, I've decided on a rule. To absolutely eliminate those who pose a threat to me."
"That's——"
Before he could finish, the boy pulled the trigger. The 9mm bullet fired from the German-made automatic pistol pierced Yuki's forehead without fail. The bullet, which flew out from the back of the head after stirring the brains inside the skull, had its tip crushed into a mushroom shape.
Yuki, who collapsed while dripping blood from his entire body, no longer moved even a twitch. The boy's gaze stayed on that corpse for only a moment, and immediately his gaze turned toward the revolver he had blown away along with Yuki's fingers.
The large-caliber 7.62mm bullet had not only torn off Yuki's fingers but had also hit and snapped the grip of the revolver in that hand. Having no choice but to try and recover only the bullets, he swung out the cylinder, but there was no remaining ammo.
"Out of ammo, huh."
The boy muttered to Yuki, who had turned into a speechless corpse.
"The elementary school... you said, right."
They had a choice. And since they made the wrong choice to attack me, it's natural they pay the price. The bunch who attacked me, and the comrades said to be remaining at the elementary school. I've had one side pay the price with death, now only the school bunch are left.
While thinking such things, the boy started walking toward the north. If only the wagon he came in hadn't had a flat tire, he would be heading there by car.
A cold wind blew, and the boy closed the zipper of his fleece up to his neck. It's already approaching the end of November. Before the full-scale winter arrived, he wanted to secure a safe place.
There were three things the boy should do now. One was the repair of the flat tire. The second was procurement of supplies like food, which were becoming scarce. And the third was securing immediate safety.
And for the moment, securing safety was the top priority. After all, he was attacked, and by children at that. He might have secured immediate safety by eliminating Yuki and the others, but they might attack again. If he can't leave this land by car right away, he must eliminate the existence that becomes a threat.
Perhaps because the temperature had dropped, the scar carved on his right cheek throbbed. At this rate, it might snow. The boy thought, looking up at the gray sky.
I'm waiting for your opinions and impressions.