Chapter Text
Minho doesn’t want to go back to work.
He just spent a week backpacking in the mountains, hiking out of cell signal range so his manager couldn’t call him for ‘something quick, I promise.’ Trekking from campsite to campsite, walking as much or as little as he wanted each day. Eating MREs and little plastic sleeves of dehydrated food and he probably desperately needs fiber but it was freeing. Everything he did was his own choice – down to the decision to chuck the vegetarian omelet packet that somehow made it into his bag at the woods. Minus the actual packet, he doesn’t litter. He’s a good steward of the land he escapes on, and some squirrel probably appreciated the industrial eggs way more than he ever would.
The only thing that isn’t his choice is him going home.
He can see his car now. Well, the parking lot he left it in a week ago, his vague loop he had planned now over and just the trail back down left. Maybe thirty minutes left until he has to go back into regular society, give up waking up to the smell of mountain air and crisp pines. Spending his days alone, unburdened by his coworker’s inane problems that they all insist on telling him about constantly.
They’re not actually that bad. One has a daughter that she tells Minho about a lot – all her little kindergartener progress and whatever. The kid’s cute, Minho doesn’t really mind learning about her. She’s more fun to learn about than his other cubicle-mate’s marital problems. Or his boss’s knees and back that kill him all the time.
They’re all fine, he would hate them a lot less if he didn’t have to spend so much time in an enclosed space with them. Doing work that barely matters for a man that acts like the world is ending if a delivery is late.
The deliveries are always late, the contractors don’t care enough for anything to be on time. There’s nothing Minho can do about it, and nothing he can tell his boss to convince him to calm down either.
The benefits are good at least. That’s the only reason he stays, the pay is decent and the vacation days accrue quickly. Already he’s doing the math to see when he can book his next hike- he had seven hours when he left, so… five weeks? Maybe six just to be safe, and he can put in for another week of backpacking.
It’ll be October then, maybe a little cold. He has been looking at this new line of sleeping bags that is supposed to be very warm but still light weight. Maybe he’ll test that out, plus thermal underwear. It’ll be heavier, and he’ll definitely have to bring his little propane heater, but he can manage. Will manage, to get away again.
Because he’s an introvert, requires these weeks away to deal with the necessary socialization of the office. To not go crazy and kill everyone.
A bit dramatic maybe, but he feels like he’s going insane sometimes having the same seven conversations with his coworkers. “How are you kids?” “When are you going to find someone?” “Ooh, that smells good. What are you eating?”
That part he’s usually willing to talk about, cooking is one of those things that he actually likes the routine of. Trying out new ingredients, new recipes. Every second Wednesday he goes out to eat at a new restaurant, ideally one from a culture he’s never had the food of before. Expand his horizons, try to replicate the food at home. To moderate success, but he gets bored sometimes if the cooking takes too long. He takes lots of shortcuts, but it still comes out pretty decent most of the time.
The gravel of the little parking lot crunches under his boots. His car is the only one there, but he’s not surprised. This parking lot is one in name only, a swath of gravel on the side of the road that bisects the national park. No view either, in the valley between two peaks. Used only by people who want to hike the two trails that extend out on either side. Minho started on the other one, went up the north peak and then did a loop out west and curled back down so he would come in from the south.
He can’t wait to get out of his shoes, walking a little quicker as he gets closer. He has a pair of slides in the passenger seat that will be a welcome relief after a full week in his hiking boots. Obviously necessary to the hike, but a little bit stiff and he’s just tired of them.
Wants to wiggle his toes and feel the breeze.
His car unlocks as he approaches the door, sensing the keys in his pack. Drops his backpack on the gravel so he can lean through the driver’s seat to grab the slides. Sits in the seat sideways and groans as he bends to unlace his boots.
Rips the socks off too. They’re the good kind, cotton and self-wicking and whatever but they still get damp when he wears them for his long. Sighs, stretching his toes out and letting them breathe.
He sits there for a moment, finds a granola bar in the middle compartment and eats that. He knows he has water in the trunk too, will refill his bottle with it before he drives home. Needs to put his backpack in the trunk too, pull the dirty clothes out of it so they don’t stay damp longer than they need to.
It rained the previous day, which was a pain. He brought his rain gear, obviously the weather wasn’t going to be perfect for a whole week, but it was still annoying. Especially since it happened at the end, when he had to walk a certain amount each day so he could reach his car in time to go home before his break ended. Couldn’t just hide out under a big tree and watch the rain fall around him.
It's whatever, today was dry and warm and he had to push himself a little to make it in time but he’s good. He has enough time to drive back to the city and take a nice, long shower before he falls asleep in his nice, comfy bed. Wake up the next morning tired and grumpy, but he has lots of pretty pictures of vistas and wildlife to share with his coworkers when they ask.
They’ll like the bear – a black bear so it’s not like it was dangerous or anything. But it was pretty close to the trail and he took lots of pictures of it as he walked by him slowly. Also lots of elk and squirrels and rabbits and snakes and one owl that he saw in the distance that might be visible in the pictures he tried to take. To be determined on that one.
He turns his car on and plugs his phone in to recharge before heaving himself out of the driver’s seat. Grabs his bag and makes his way to the trunk to empty his backpack, at least unpack it a little so it’s not quite as compressed. He also definitely didn’t pack it very well this morning, since it was his last day and it didn’t matter as much.
He unclips his water bottle first, tossing the stale water left in it on the gravel and refilling it from the gallon jugs he keeps in his trunk pretty much all the time. Drinks a bunch too, refilling it again and then actually working on the bag. Pulling out the compartment where he kept his soiled clothes and dumping its contents haphazardly in his trunk. Pulling his hammock out of its sleeve too, because that was very wet when he rolled it up this morning.
Removes the bag of compressed trash out too, though a quick look around tells him that there’s no trash cans out here. He brings the back with him out to the driver’s seat, tossing it in the footwell of the passenger seat to throw out at a gas station or something.
His phone says it’s at 7% battery when he settles in his seat. No service either, but it’s not like he expected it this far out in the middle of nowhere. There’s only one road through the park anyways, so he’ll just drive until he gets a signal and go from there.
He clips his seatbelt in and closes the door. Opens the window instead, unwilling to let go of the mountain air quite yet. Plus he has just dumped a whole bunch of damp clothes in his car, so he’ll need to air that out.
The drive back to civilization is long, winding. He’s the only car on the road so he gets to speed a little, leaning into the curves as he makes his way out of the park. Slows down to make it through the entry gates, just in case someone decides to be a bitch and ticket him for going ten over.
He drives through the tourist down by the gate, because their prices are always insane. He has enough gas to get him most of the way home, so he’s not desperate yet. There are signs for the highway too, so it doesn’t matter that his phone still doesn’t have any bars. He can make it a little longer before directions start really mattering.
He’s still the only car on the highway, letting him speed home a little quicker than he anticipated. Probably a game on or something- he’s not much of a sports person but the office is always full of chatter about the big ones. It feels like everyone watches them, but even so he knows the traffic will pick up as he gets closer to the city. There has to be the others like him who don’t bother with sports, so he gets as much of a head start in as he can out here where there isn’t a million people crammed into a couple square miles.
He does need gas though, eventually. Is mostly hungry, wants a hot meal that doesn’t come out of a plastic bag. Isn’t terribly picky beyond that, knows not to be this far out in the sticks.
Turns off at the next exit, the signs on the highway telling him there’s two gas stations and three food options available. Well, two fast food places attached to the gas stations, and one restaurant.
He’s not going to bother with a sit-in place, doesn’t want to waste the time when he’s hungry now. Takes a left to drive into one of the gas station instead. It has a Subway attached, better than the Burger King sharing the lot with the other station. The air is less mountain-fresh when he steps out at the pump, popping the cap of his gas tank as he swings his legs out onto the asphalt.
The card reader’s dead when he taps it. The screen of the pump glitching out too, but there’s no sign on the pump saying it’s out of order. Not on any of the other pumps too, and they’re just as janky when he walks over to the next one over to look at it. He sighs, stabbing the buttons on the new one and not getting any response back.
The gas is cheaper out here, but there’s always something wrong with them.
He goes back to his car and opens his door to reach back into the cup holder for his wallet again, pulling out a couple of bills so he can go inside in case the whole system is down and they want cash. It’s not the worst thing anyways, he was going to go inside and see what they have in terms of snacks. Plus order a sub that he’ll scarf down in his car before he even leaves the parking lot.
A sweet onion teriyaki maybe. Toasted, obviously, with swiss cheese and lots of cucumbers and red onion. His breath will reek, but it’s just him in the car.
He’s almost at the shop doors when a truck screeches into the lot, someone shouting at him from the open window. Holding a gun out at him, through the passenger window.
Minho doesn’t have time to figure out what the person is yelling, immediately instinct takes over and he’s got his hands in the air, money held between his thumb and index finger as the car comes to a halt.
“Keep them up!” He hears, understands now that he’s focused on the – gang that is holding him up at a high-way side gas station.
He keeps his hands in the air, obviously. Stomach grumbling ominously, either hunger or fear.
“He doesn’t look like one of them.” A new voice says, the rear door of the truck opening as someone calls out “get back in the truck, you dumbass.”
The door slams back closed, and Minho doesn’t know if that’s good or bad for him.
“He’s dirty, but he doesn’t look infected.” The voices says again, head poking out the edge of the open front window now that his door is staying closed. “He understands us.”
“So?” Presumably the guy holding the gun out his window says. “That just mean’s he’s a survivor bringing the virus out to us.”
“I just want gas.” Minho calls out, though honestly he’ll just leave without it too. Without anything, will just get in his car and drive away from these lunatics if they let him.
“So you’re out here to steal from us?” Someone shouts, and Minho’s pretty sure the money is clearly visible in his hand. Also do these idiots own the gas station?
“I’m going to pay.” He says, stresses really. Moving his fingers to highlight the bills. Still has the gun aimed at him though, like they don’t trust that his money is real or something.
“I don’t think he knows.” The voice in the backseat says, the door opening again to a hissed out “Jisung!”
A guy comes out of the rear door of the truck, dressed completely normal. Not that Minho has a firm grasp on what redneck gangs wear, maybe jeans and an unbuttoned plaid is the standard armed robbery uniform around here.
“He’s not dressed like a guy running away from the city.” The guy, Jisung apparently, says as he walks out closer to Minho. Not close, he stays near the truck, but even this much seems to concern his friends a lot. “Where’ve you been?”
“What do you mean-“ Minho starts, but he’s interrupted by a voice from the truck that shouts out. “Answer him!” The gun moves in the window, as if trying to beckon him.
“I spent the last week backpacking in the mountains.” He says, trying to keep it vague while also showing that he has nothing worth robbing him over. Well, a lot of his gear is quite expensive, but not really in a way that is useful for muggers. “I’m just trying to go home.”
“See!” The guy outside the truck says, hand motioning towards Minho as the guy with the gun lowers it slightly. “He’s dressed like a hiker, minus the slides. I don’t think he knows anything.”
Clearly, because he’s very confused right now.
“You’ve really been in the woods this whole time?” someone shouts from the truck and Minho nods. Lowers his hands a little too, because his arms burn and he’s maybe risking his life over it but it does seem like they’ve realized something. That’s he’s not a threat, apparently, though he doesn’t get that since they’re the ones with a gun dangling from the open window.
“And you haven’t seen anyone else? No hikers or on the trail or anyone on the road or anything?” He’s asked and he shakes his head a bunch. “And you didn’t think that was weird?”
That one makes him pause. “I mean, the highway was a bit empty?” He says, but it’s not like it’s ever particularly packed this far out. The traffic out here is nothing like the city, where it can be bumper-to-bumper in the dead of night. The trail he hiked this past week was new to him, but he’s not new to this national park. It’s pretty, but it’s not like million visitors a week pretty.
Also not particularly accessible. Everything is a long ass hike from the parking lots, even the simplest of waterfalls. Not most people’s preferred hotspots. And school just started, so the families are back at home again. His coworkers talked a lot about how glad she was that she didn’t need to come up with things for her kid to do every day before he left.
So yeah, the road was pretty empty but that’s not that unusual, right?
“He really has no idea.” Someone from the truck says, like it’s some big deal. Like Minho is completely out of the loop on something that he really shouldn’t be.
“I mean, my phone hasn’t had any bars yet so I-“ He starts, because this is starting to feel uncomfortable for a different reason. The gun isn’t aimed at him anymore, pulled back into the truck as someone else decides to come out of their seat. They’re still looking at him like he’s being weird, and he can’t figure out why.
“Oh!” The guy that’s already out says, almost excited. “I’ve always wanted to do this.” He adds, gleeful. Jumps a little, definitely excited. Make Minho feel worse, like he’s not going to enjoy this at all.
“Hello, strange sir, and welcome to the end times.” He says, curtsying a little as he talks, and Minho watches with a frown before swiveling to another guy getting out of the truck while shaking his head. “You’re in a zombie apocalypse now.”