The plan was formed at 4:00 AM.
They couldn't drive through the main hoard. They would wait until the pre-dawn "blue hour," when the zombies seemed slightly less active in the cold. Han-su would use the siphon pump to take fuel from the cars surrounding the truck, then they would head for the Han River.
If the bridges were open, they'd head south. If not... they'd have to find a way to cross the water.
"Han-su," Ji-young whispered as Mr. Kim dozed off against a pile of bubble wrap. "Do you think my family... do you think anyone else is okay?"
Han-su looked at his hands. They were stained with the greyish fluid of the things outside. He wanted to tell her yes. He wanted to say the government had a secret bunker and a cure.
But he remembered the woman he didn't help. He remembered the sound of the girl's heels clicking before she died.
"I don't know," Han-su said honestly. "But if they are, they're doing exactly what we're doing. They're fighting. So you have to stay strong so you can find them."
It was a lie, or maybe a hope. In the dark of the truck, there was no difference.
Suddenly, the truck rocked.
It wasn't a thump. It was a heavy, rhythmic swaying. Something big was outside. Something much heavier than a person.
Scritch. Scritch. Scritch.
The sound of metal being peeled back. Above them. On the roof.
Han-su grabbed the crossbow and loaded a bolt. He looked up at the thin aluminum ceiling. A dent appeared. Then another.
"They're learning," Han-su whispered.