Baby my heart beats for you (if it could) (6/?)

[clubotaku]

Title: Baby my heart beats for you (if it could0 (6/?)
Characters: SHINee (main), Changmin, Ryeowook, Junsu (DBSK) and Junho in this chapter
Previous Chapters:  (1) ) http://clubotaku.livejournal.com/12509.html
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Humour, Horror
Pairing: slight OnewxKey
Summary: AU. Jinki is all alone in a zombie infested world and is unsure how he feels about sharing the bed with a naked person

A/N: Long chapter here haha, thanks to everyone who commented on the last chapter :)

1.

Ten minutes later Jinki still swears he can feel the bird poop hardening in his hair and Kibum is slowly running out of alcohol wipes (and patience).

“Are you…Uh, hypothermic?” asks Jonghyun, brow furrowed as he offers Jinki some more tissue.

“Does he look blue to you?” snaps Kibum, face tight as he concentrates on removing every trace of bird poop from Jinki’s unfashionable head.

“I think you mean is he a hypochondriac,” says Minho.

Jonghyun blinks and gives an awkward laugh.

“Haha yeah, that’s what I meant.”

Kibum mutters something dirty beneath his breath that Jinki can’t quite catch, but still manages to get the gist of it. He doesn’t understand why Kibum is being so hostile to the other boy and takes it upon himself to find out.

“Kibum!” he chides, “That’s mean.”

He yelps as Kibum gives one patch of hair a particularly hard rub, little bits of hair falling off. He doesn’t even say sorry to Jinki.

“Dude, don’t be so rough,” says Jonghyun, “And cut your nails-you’ll hurt him the way you’re going.”

Kibum stops. Jinki could interpret this in two ways: one, there’s no more poop or two, Kibum is going to get his knife out. Minho sighs, moves away to the monkey bars and stays there, looking at the sky. Kibum’s breath is hot against Jinki’s head and his arms are propped on his shoulders. All Jinki can see is Kibum’s tightly clad legs and shoes but he imagines a look akin to a lifetime of pain being shown on the younger boy’s face.

“Well excuse me, Florence Nightingale,” says Kibum, “I don’t see you doing anything vaguely useful.”

“Well Perez,” starts Jonghyun, tone mocking, “You won’t let me come anywhere near him without threatening to gouge my eyes out with your stick-on nails.”

Kibum growls.

“Guys,” says Jinki, “Can’t we all just be friends?” His plea is ignored.

From where he lies on top of the monkey bars, Minho turns his head away from the sky and gives him an incredulous look. He shakes his head in pity, mouths ‘good luck’ before turning away to close his eyes.

“My nails are real you peroxide blond,” hisses Kibum, “Unlike your face.”

Jonghyun bares his teeth and strides forward. Kibum takes his arms off Jinki and whirls around to face him, plants his feet firmly in the ground before Jinki. Minho is instantly reminded of two cats fighting it out for the female, who waits docilely in a corner until all the yowling is done. Come to think of it, even the mating process was a bit...Rough, considering the male cat would bite the scruff of the female’s until they were done. The imagery that pops into his mind makes him flinch-he never wants to think about Kibum biting Jinki whilst doing that ever again.

“My bet’s on Kibum,” he says to the sky. He imagines the sky agreeing with a heartfelt nod and grin.

“Unlike your dick,” retorts Jonghyun, equally incensed and they both take on step closer.

“My head’s clean Kibum, I’m fine guys, really, you can stop now and”

“SHUT UP!” they both yell simultaneously.

Jinki jumps and scurries to join Minho, tries to pull himself up and fails. He settles for hiding and watching behind the structure. Universe, I know I haven’t been good lately and I forgot my grandmother’s number and I really, really, really am sorry but please, please, please stop them before Kibum loses some hair because he’ll blame me and then I’ll be a paraplegic and the zombies will eat me alive, pleads Jinki internally, holding tight on the poles, And then Kibum will kill Jonghyun and Minho will probably get Changmin to kill him and Kibum is a nice person, really, once you get past his many layers…Like an onion! He makes you cry until you reach his centre. This analogy seems to fit and Jinki gives a hopeful smile to the sky. Minho thinks he’s going a little crazy. Kibum and Jonghyun are this close to castrating each other and Kibum’s hand is twitching towards his pack-his knife, thinks Jinki-when suddenly, the sky rumbles and a loud crack is heard. Jonghyun jumps, lets out a screech and looks around wildly. Kibum is unnerved; Jinki’s whole body is wrapped around the pole. Minho swings down from his perch and rubs his eyes tiredly, yawns.

“Looks like a thunderstorm.”

Jonghyun’s face brightens.

“My place is five minutes away!”

2.

It’s true, Jonghyun’s place is five minutes away. That is, five minutes away by bus. The precise timing of these five minutes also depends on the fact the bus drivers know exactly where they’re going and leave at an exact time, not one minute less or more. Now, departure time aside (Kibum noted it was 17:45 with a scowl), the point of knowing how to get to your destination is important. Jinki had always thought he was hopeless with directions (he couldn’t even locate himself in a department store) but Jonghyun…Jonghyun was something else.

“WHERE THE FUCK ARE WE?!” Kibum had screamed, drenched from head to toe and looking like an extremely angry, straight-out-of-a-perfume-commercial, model. Much like he had been at the beach, his flame-streaked hair was plastered to his head and his already tight pants clung to him. He had stuffed his leather jacket angrily into his pack earlier, complaining about “designer goods-worth more than this fool’s life” and then proceeded to hurl abuse at Jinki, for not bringing an umbrella; at Jonghyun, for being born; finally, Minho, for not saying he actually knew where to go.

“I just needed an address,” said Minho, shrugging. Jinki had fumed; even in the rain he resembled an anime character. Jinki was thinking along the lines of Gundam…

Jonghyun had lead them through the empty streets, talking non-stop about the weather, singing and most irritatingly of all (in Kibum’s most esteemed opinion), asking Jinki about everything and nothing-“What’s your favourite food/series/movie/book/song/bed position?”-which coupled with his obnoxious voice and offensive haircut, incensed the (slightly) taller boy even more than being drenched with the rain (for Kibum knew he pulled off the wet look well). After they’d passed the same traffic light three times, Kibum knew that this boy was mentally retarded and obviously was born without direction. Like Malaysia, Singapore lay extremely close to the equator and so it also had the hot, humid temperature. Like Malaysia, when there was a thunderstorm, it was not normal to be outside. Kibum’s eyes had flicked, observing the two boys giving an impromptu recital of 'Singing in the rain' and-here he grit his teeth-Jinki was playing the girl. Who does that dwarf think he is, with his foot-lifts inside those tacky, fake, Nike sneakers he so ripped off, he thought scathingly, With his home-styled Mohawk dye job-who does he think is really huh, David Beckham lite?

“Jinki!” snapped Kibum.

Jinki blinked at him blindly through the heavy rain, unsure whether Kibum had called his name. He could barely hear him between their singing and the sound of the rain slapping the ground. For safety’s sake, he hurried to Kibum’s side, Jonghyun following. The other boy crossed his arms and looked at Kibum critically.

“Don’t order him around,” he said. Kibum feigned hearing loss.

“What? Can’t hear you; too much rain.”

From beneath the large palm leaf he’d picked up, Minho watched and waited for the bickering to commence. Jinki spotted him with his flimsy shelter and started walking towards him but both Kibum and Jonghyun reached out a hand to stop him; Kibum grabbing his hand and Jonghyun his shoulder. Their lips curled up into almost identical sneers and they flicked back their head, hair whipping away from their eyes.

“You heard me,” said Jonghyun, “Don’t order him around, he’s not your slave.”

“No,” said Kibum, “He’s my bitch.”

Jinki gasped-“It’s rude to swear Kibum!”-and Jonghyun had rolled his eyes.

“You’re such a control freak.”

“You’re full of hot-air.”

“Do you get off wearing such tight clothing? Is the rain making you feel even more wet?”

“Do you like having a view of everyone’s crotch, midget? I think the reason you keep talking is because you get off the sound of your own voice!”

“It’s going down dawg; I’m gonna take you down to Chinatown.”

As this sentence had been said in what was presumably English, Jinki understood nothing and Minho cared to understand nothing. He adjusted the leaf so it stopped dripping in Jinki’s eye. Kibum scoffed.

“Stop trying to be black, Vanilla-Ice, if you look down South you don’t have the size.”

Jonghyun’s eyes bugged out and he bared his teeth. Kibum smirked, cracking his knuckles as they both crouched down, ready to spring at the other. Had this been a film and had they been dressed in Joseon style costumes with swords or spears, this would’ve been totally awesome in Jinki’s mind. Right now, it was not good. Minho sighed and cleared his throat.

“Where do you live?”

Jonghyun delivered an answer in rapid speech-an English sounding name-and Minho nodded and started to walk off, towing Jinki along. The other two twisted their heads to see where they were going.

“Yah, Choi Minho, where the hell are you going?”

“Yah, tall guy, where are you dragging him?”

Minho kept walking and Jinki kept pace alongside him, wanting to stay under the shelter of the leaf. The rain didn’t look like it would stop any time soon and he could barely see what was in front of him, let alone find his way back to their apartment. Minho seemed to know where he was going (more than Jonghyun had) and was making positive noises whenever they reached a certain road. Finally, they arrived at a cluster of flats that all looked the same and were arranged neatly in squares.

“Eugh, how cheap,” muttered Kibum. Jonghyun gave him a dirty look before bounding forwards, grabbing Jinki’s arm and babbling about his flat and lead him away from Minho and Kibum. Kibum started running, but Jonghyun’s stupid smile was the last thing he saw as the lift doors closed and the boy sang out in falsetto, “Big girls don’t cry ~” and stuck his tongue out.

“Fucker,” hissed Kibum, jabbing the up button viciously. He turned to Minho who had discarded the leaf and looked annoyingly happy with being soaked in such humid weather.

“Don’t say a thing!”

The lift ‘dings’ and they both get in, before Kibum realized he didn’t have a clue which floor Jonghyun went to, especially since the lift did not show the floors on the outside-just the up and down buttons.

“THAT FUCKER!” he shrieked, “How DARE he leave us!” He started kicking the side of the lift.

Minho reached over to press the button for the 31st floor and then moved back to the other side of the small lift. Kibum’s eye twitched and he glared at the other who held his hands up defensively.

“You told me not to say anything.”

3.

The flat is tiny, as expected-“It’s a HDB flat- high-density-building-Kibum” “Shut up, I knew that-hey, I told you not to say anything!”-and now they’re finally inside after pounding on every single door on the floor, Kibum takes off his shoes and socks, leaving them at the entrance. Minho does the same and peels off his shirt. Jinki, sitting inside on a chair, is in awe at Minho’s body. For someone so…Tall, he has a six-pack. He fingers his own chest sadly, feeling some muscle but mostly meat. He sighs. A finger pokes him in the side and Kibum is looking at him.

“Ignore him, he’s abnormal,” says the other, looking around, “Who lived here, triads?”

The tiny apartment has a few tattered Chinese racing calendars nailed into the walls, a small altar to the Goddess of Mercy set up with the smell of incense faint, but still present. There’s a table with two chairs, a plastic stool and a foot-rest; plastic plates and cutlery unwashed in the sink and newspaper on the floor and a ratty red carpet in the space that Kibum guesses was the living room. The apartment is so small, that had Kibum been five kilograms heavier, he would not have been able to make it through the short hallway that lead to the main apartment. He sniffs disdainfully, taking in the smell of incense and take-out, eyes the beer cans and cigarette ash that decorate every available surface. The kitchen and living room are practically one room, with the dining table within arms reach to the sofa and TV. There are two rooms-one bedroom and one bathroom. Kibum takes one cautious step into the bathroom, balks at the smell and the view. It’s square-shaped, with one toilet, sink, and a shower that has no barrier between it and the sink or toilet. The towels look old, dry. There’s hair covering the plughole, hair. There’s even hair on the soap-Kibum feels ill and slams the door shut. Minho has hung his shirt on the washing line that hangs outside the kitchen window and Jinki does the same. Kibum strips his shirt off and re-arranges all their shirts neatly, curses the never-ending tropical rain. Jonghyun emerges from the bedroom with some towels-Kibum takes out his hand-sanitizer just in case-and upon seeing the other three topless, takes his shirt happily off and throws them each a towel.

“Is this your place?” asks Jinki, thankful for the towel. His hair is starting to get fluffy the more he rubs it.

“Nope,” says Jonghyun cheerfully, “I’ve only been here a day.”

“So you’re a free-loader,” says Kibum, lip curled, “You have crappy taste.”

“I was living in a bungalow before this but I move around, try to find people. Besides, it’s cool living in different places.” Jonghyun cocks his head, looks at Kibum challengingly. Kibum rolls his eyes.

“Just admit you have the worst sense of direction and can’t find your way back and maybe I’ll forgive you for this…Hole.”

Jinki sympathizes with Jonghyun.

“I get lost too,” he says, recounting the number of times he’d taken the wrong bus or walked down the wrong street. Once, he’d ended up in Itaewon being taunted by some burly Americans chugging beer and sporting tattoos on their muscular arms. He’d locked himself in a telephone booth and called Siwon hyung for rescue. Siwon had come, saying he would always come to help a lost sheep and lead him back to salvation, and the story had spread around school. Gwiboon had called Jinki ‘Bo Peep’s sheep’ for ages and everyone else had caught on. It was not a happy memory.

“Really? That’s so cool!” exclaims Jonghyun, holding his shoulders, “We can get lost together!”

A knife narrowly misses his nose and he lets out a startled yelp, releasing Jinki’s shoulders before turning to the culprit. Kibum has three other knives ready, holding them ninja-style as he leans against the (only clean spot of) wall.

“They’re plastic hyung,” whispers Minho to Jinki, who relaxes a little.

“Um, so, when were you born? I know you’re also from Seoul,” says Jinki, striking conversation again before Jonghyun hits Kibum with a chair. Jonghyun gives him a dazzling smile, full attention reverted back.

“1990, you?”

“1989 which means I’m everyone’s hyung!” This has never happened to Jinki before with so many people. Kibum doesn’t really count since he doesn’t treat him as a hyung and Minho…Minho’s just cool. But he does call Jinki hyung.

“Kibum and I are born in 1991,” supplies Minho. Jonghyun’s smile grows so big it threatens to rip his face in half. Kibum growls and makes a rude gesture at Minho, who grins at the air and slumps even further into the couch.

“So that means you have to call me hyung!” Jonghyun stresses the ‘you’ and Kibum flips him off.

“So how did you end up here?” Jinki quickly interjects since they’re at great risk (98% in fact, with 1% going for the chance Kibum doesn’t kill him and the other 1% for Minho stopping them) of experiencing an all-out war, in which certain body parts will certainly be removed.

“Well,” says Jonghyun, “I was on a choir tour around Asia.” He puffs himself up and a bit and Kibum mimics him, makes a fish-face and mimes exploding.

“Choir tour?” says Minho, “Which countries?”

“Hmm, well we started in Japan (Tokyo), then the Philippines (Manila), then Thailand-Bangkok- and we were supposed to go to Malaysia but then the apocalypse happened and I ended up here.”

“So…You were in Thailand when it happened?”

Kibum’s shoulders tense and Minho’s hand grips the material of the couch a fraction tighter. Jinki and Jonghyun don’t notice-Jonghyun continuing to narrate.

“Yeah…It was crazy like, I didn’t even know what was happening. One minute we’re in the restaurant about to have breakfast and the next thing I know, people are screaming and undead are everywhere and I run.”

Jonghyun’s eyes are glazed and his arms are curled around his legs. Jinki leans forward unconsciously, his own memories flashing in and out of his head.

“It was horrible you know, seeing people just being…Ripped like that. I-I’ve never heard such horrible sounds in my life and trust me, I’ve heard some pretty bad singers.”

Like you? Kibum wants to say.

“So a group of us make a break for the fire escape since they’re pouring in through the entrance and we leg it upstairs, back to our rooms. Luckily we were on the first floor-I don’t think Ryeowook-hyung could’ve made it otherwise. Downstairs people are screaming for help and there’s banging and crashing and tires screeching. My choir leader-Junsu-practically smashes our door open and we grab our bags and start running down the corridor. Ryeowook is screaming about undead coming up the fire exit so we run in the opposite direction. People are pouring out of their rooms, confused, still in their freaking pajamas and they don’t know-so we yell, we bang other people’s doors. Junsu-hyung smashes the fire-alarm, the whole building rings with the sound and I look back, to where we came out and”

Jonghyun’s face is twisted, mind not really with them. His hands rub his legs, up and down, up and down.

“those things are everywhere, maggots sticking out of their eyes and mouth, bones poking out of their skin. And I recognized some of them, their hotel uniforms, delivery-man, police. Junsu-hyung knocks on one door but nobody answers so he and Junho-hyung break the door down. Ryeowook is directing people down the other fire-escape nearest to us and trying not to cry. A man walks out from near our room and”

He shudders, shakes his head. Though he doesn’t say it, the others know exactly what happens next. Jonghyun isn’t able to continue his sentence but goes on, words flowing out like a stream, unable to stop.

“I grab a vase and throw it at them, hoping to buy some time. People are still coming out from their rooms, sleepy. Most of them wake up when they see what’s going on-thank God-but some are slow. The vase hits one on the face but all it does is rip its skin and maggots fall out. Junsu-hyung squeals and there’s a body lying inside the hotel room. Junho-hyung swears, says a name I couldn’t catch above the general noise and then Ryeowook-hyung grabs my hand and pulls me into the fire-escape. It’s horrible in their-crammed like sardines. It’s hot and smells like sweat and children are crying, Ryeowook-hyung is crying and Junho is swearing, saying something about a gun.”

Jonghyun closes his eyes, as if trying to block the memory out, bites his lip. Minho’s eyes are focused on him. Jinki’s eyes flick to Kibum, whose face is taut, pale and is uncharacteristically silent. Other than the intense look on his face as he listens, there is no other emotion present and Jinki’s heart feels heavy but he turns his eyes back to Jonghyun.

“We make it down to the lobby and I don’t remember what happens, I just remember getting in the bus with them and some other choir members and some strangers who jumped in. And as it drove, fuck, I can still hear everything so clearly, I hated the fact I could hear everything despite closing my eyes. The screams, the cracks, gunshots, bodies hitting the ground-desperate men jumping out of the building- and the smashing of the Colonial sign (that’s the hotel). Ryeowook-hyung is sobbing beside me and Junsu-hyung’s breathing is erratic, his voice grows higher as he names all choristers present…Junho-hyung, Junho-hyung is trying to hide his gulps as he mourns for someone, not our member but the guy in the hotel room, someone called…Shit, I can’t even remember, it was Jae-something but he’s trying to hold it in, trying not to make it any worse. The airport is busy, people booking flights left and right. It’s all a blur, you know, you don’t even notice where you are or what you’re doing.”

Kibum isn’t looking at Jonghyun anymore. His jaw is tight and he moves next to the window so he’s half in shadow, half not. Outside thunder roars and the rain goes on.

“Junsu-hyung is buying tickets, begging for the next flight out of here for anywhere, for any price, we need to get out. More and more people are coming to the terminal, security officers trying to keep us calm. Someone taps me on the shoulder and there’s this kid, all smiley and thin, bouncing on the soles of his feet. He’s humming some Michael Jackson tune, a little off but it’s ok. He hands me a plaster and bounces off, waves at me-can you believe it? We’re facing zombies and he’s singing MJ. He talks as he bounces off, introduces himself and says it’s all going to be ok, he’s getting out of here soon. Says as long as you have somebody it’ll all be ok and that I should use the plaster. He disappears in the crowd and then Ryeowook is gasping at the state of my hand. But…I didn’t even notice how hard my fists were clenched-my hand was bleeding. Junsu-hyung gets a flight and we go straight for the boarding gate, flight leaves in 15 minutes. There, people buy water, food, supplies. Junsu-hyung,” he laughs, a real laugh, “Junsu-hyung buys a dolphin keychain and fridge magnets, says we’re definitely going to be ok. We get on the flight and then we end up here. And then I met you guys.”

Jinki’s throat is dry and he swallows, saliva moving down.

“So…Where are they now.”

Jonghyun lets out a bark, eyes shining as he gives Jinki a small smile.

“Probably back in Korea or someplace safe by now.”

Jinki is confused.

“Then why are you still here?”

Jonghyun scratches his head, stretches his legs and looks embarrassed.

“Ha…Funny story that. I went for a walk before we were supposed to leave and ended up in some theme park with a Mer-Lion”

“And then you got lost and by the time you got back, most likely a week later, they’d left,” concludes Kibum. He pulls his shirt off the washing line and puts it back on. “You’re a real retard aren’t you?”

“Kibum!” says Jinki, gives him a pleading look. At least Kibum has his snark back.

“Actually it was five hours and yes, they were gone but they left me a note. Sadly, I have no money but the government has been organizing flights or something so I’ll get out eventually. But it all seems ok here so I thought I’d wander a bit, sight-see.”

“Whydon’tyoulivewithus?” The words come out before he can control himself. Kibum’s face goes dark and he stalks over to the couch, accidentally kicks Jinki on the way. Minho remains silent, face impassive as he bores holes into the wall. Jonghyun tackles Jinki in a bear-hug that sends him to the floor.

“Sure, I thought you’d never ask!”

Kibum snarls, leaps cat-like back to the kitchen window and throws both their shirts into the rain.

“Clean it yourself!” he snaps at Jinki, who stares back, shocked and Kibum slams the door in his wake. The Chinese calendars come tumbling down in a cloud of dust and Minho chuckles softly, hides it behind a hand. Jonghyun raises one eyebrow and gives Jinki a slightly disturbing smile.

“So…Do we share beds?”

The door rattles, little splinters breaking off and Minho laughs outright.

4.

When the rain finally subsides they make their way back to the apartment. Kibum has clearly arrived before them as they find his wet clothes drying in the laundry room attached to the kitchen; his bed clearly marked with his name now sewn on both pillowcase and sheets.

“Control freak,” mutters Jonghyun.

“That’s my bed and this is Minho’s,” says Jinki.

“So where do I sleep?” Jonghyun looks around for another bed, a spare mattress and finds none.

“Kibum says dogs sleep outside,” says Minho, coming into the room, a note in hand, “And Jinki needs to get him neutered and I’m to get him potty-trained.”

“Bitch,” says Jonghyun, “I’m taking his bed now. No, wait, I have a better idea.”

He pushes Jinki’s bed so it’s right up next to Kibum’s and rips the sheets off, dumps them on the couch along with Kibum’s pillow.

“You shouldn’t do that,” says Jinki, eyes wide in fear, “That’s a really, really bad idea. Kibum is very particular about his things.”

“I’ll bet,” says Jonghyun, and proceeds to write his name with Kibum’s eyeliner all over the mattress. From the doorway Minho is trying to stifle is laughter and fails.

“This is brilliant, have fun dealing with him later hyung.”

Jinki isn’t quite sure whether he means him or Jonghyun, but he does know that tonight is not going to be a good night.

“By the way, hyung,” says Jonghyun, lying sideways on the bed, head propped up with one hand, the other hand curled near his waist. His shirt rides up to expose a bit of skin and Jinki gulps, looks away. “I better tell you now, I like to sleep naked.”

Jinki’s face goes scarlet and his whole body feels like a sauna as he spews gibberish, gesturing wildly. For the first time in a long time, Minho is laughing loud and unabashed outside.

5.

“This isn’t your usual lair,” says Kibum, eyeing his surroundings, “The hell are we?”

The car had picked him up as usual and he was blind-folded (as usual) and when the car stopped, was led into a building which was mostly metal, very solid and very quiet. Changmin had taken the blindfold off and Kibum gave him a twisted smile and received one in return. The older boy walked ahead, two armed guards following him and Kibum.

“Hey, beanstalk, where are we?” asks Kibum, taunting. Changmin remains unbothered, which bothers Kibum, who keeps his face carefully confident.

“So you have no idea what happened to the other G.L.E.E club members? No inkling in your rainbow-filled brain where they are?”

“Screw you, I hope a zombie bites your dick. No, I don’t freaking know, I told you Jaejoong and Kwon never met me at the airport and I lost Jaebum in the chaos.”

The word Jaebum sticks in his throat but he forces it out. Better out than in after all. Inside, Jonghyun’s voice echoes in his head, he curses the other to high hell and scowls at the agent’s back.

“And you don’t have any idea about the zombies and how they spread?”

“How many times must I tell you; no?”

Changmin clicks his tongue, feet tapping in perfect time as they walk down the empty, door-free corridor. There are no windows, only cold, artificial light that makes his eyes hurt and red lights of cameras. No blind spots, notes Kibum, I can’t take the bastard out. They reach a door at the end and one of the guards opens it, Changmin steps smartly through and gestures for Kibum to follow. Kibum kicks the door for good measure; Changmin smirks and holds up one hand to stop the guard from tasering him. Inside, there are a two metal tables and some chairs, where other agents sit, murmuring amongst themselves. When Changmin enters they fall silent, get up and bow to him. He waves a hand dismissively and they leave. Kibum can feel their gaze on him as they exit, back stiffening. A large window spans the length of the room and he feels more alive with real sunlight on his skin. Outside is the sea, some mangroves and a few huts on the coast-line. There is a bridge, heavily barricaded and there are security boats patrolling the ocean.

“What you see is the link between Malaysia, which has been infected, and Singapore. No zombies should be able to get through.”

Kibum rolls his eyes.

“No shit Sherlock. So why did you bring me here?”

Changmin drapes himself across a chair, crosses his legs, leans back and cocks his head, stares straight at Kibum.

“Despite all the precautions, some people slip through.”

Kibum scoffs, “You should be sacked and moved back to primary.”

“They are caught and taken to a centre, for testing of the infection, just in case. Now, please, observe.” Changmin gets up and looks outside. He points at the furthest edge of the coast, deep in the mangrove swamps.

Kibum waits, he can’t see anything but then a boat emerges, a tiny blue speck in a canvas of dirty brown and green. The boat chugs along slowly, hugging the coast as it emerges from the mangroves. They watch as it comes closer and closer. Changmin nods and the two guards leave, closing the door behind them. Outside, men are running into black vans, with what looks like a medical kit in their hands. It’s the machine guns and tranquilizers that irk Kibum. The boat sails on and now he can see people on board, huddled at the prow. As they reach the thin beach, they jump up and down, celebrating. The minute their feet touch the land, the vans screech before them and although he can’t hear, he sees their mouths shift from smiles to shouts. Kibum grimaces as a lady, heavily pregnant and swathed in cloth, is bundled into a van, reaching out for her husband, brother, whoever he is. Another man tries to run and falls, wooden to the ground as the tranquilizer dart hits his leg.

“They’re trying to get to safety, how the hell can you treat them like this?!” demands Kibum.

“We have been monitoring this group for a while,” replies Changmin, voice cold, “In fact, they’ve done pretty well since they came from Phuket.”

Kibum’s blood freezes.

“I am doing what I must in order to prevent infection. Research must be done and subjects are needed in order to conduct research, Key. Since you know nothing, my team and I will find out. You never know, you might find out what happened to Jaejoong, Jo Kwon, Chansung, Heechul and Jaebum-that is, if they’re not gorging on fresh flesh somewhere.”

Kibum’s fists are balled and he growls, ready to beat him black and blue. Changmin gives a harsh laugh, throws his head back to do so.

“I must say, Heechul is a sneaky bastard. He’s managed to evade security points so far and has, since I last checked, dyed his hair blond. I think he’s in Cambodia with that Chinese lifeguard.”

“You know where he is? Wait, who else is safe?!” Kibum grabs his tie and Changmin casually flicks his wrist off with a well-practiced move.

“I don’t know, I’m only a primary school boy,” taunts Changmin, “Way over my head.”

“Fuck you,” hisses Kibum, his entire body shaking.

“You wish,” drawls Changmin, “But I’m highly wanted and not available but please, feel free to ask for tissues if you need them.

The nerve of this guy, if Kibum had his knife he’d be pinned to a wall, begging for mercy.

“Oh dear,” says Changmin, not sounding worried at all, “Looks like they’re infected.”

Kibum looks back outside, watches agents swarm around a young girl whose eyes are rolling around in their sockets, mouth open in a silent scream as she kicks and punches to no avail. She is tranquilized, hand-cuffed and sprayed with something before being pushed into a separate van.

“Like I said Key, research and subjects are needed. Since you are useless, I will have to use her.”

“You sick bastard,” spits Kibum, “Treating a young girl like that. She’s not some animal you can do experiments on and get rid of at will.”

Changmin snaps his fingers and the guards re-enter the room. They handcuff Kibum and haul him away.

“Oh and Kibum,” calls Changmin, “If I find out anything I’ll let you know. Since you’re so concerned about human life.” He waves and the door swings shut.
A/N: And yes, Changmin is a cold-hearted bastard (I'm sorry Minnie!) XD. Comments are love, as always <3

Edit: Typo fixed,thanks chinchuu!