– 0 3 : 0 1

UNLIKE THE OTHERS, Hoseok knows exactly when the wards come down.

He's calculated it down to the very second, and he's already prepared to leave a full hour beforehand. The beat-up Honda that Hoseok had driven here in is parked behind the house, and Taehyung doesn't realize that he can drive until he gets into the driver's seat. Driving a manual car comes naturally to him—like swimming and shooting, it's yet another thing that he discovers he's retained even after losing his memory.

"It's not far—just across the highway to the next town," Hoseok says, when Taehyung asks where he's headed. "The rest of my team is there setting up wards for one of the safe-houses. I'd invite you to join us, but you have a mission," he adds. "And, going by the numbers she'd set for you, it's unlikely that you'll return to this time again. But if you do, you know where to find me."

Taehyung simply nods, unable to quell the sting of disappointment from losing yet another comrade, of sorts. He knows that he has to leave, of course, but it's been such a lonely journey. It seems that the only person he has constantly with him is her, and he hasn't even met her yet—not properly, anyway. He clenches his jaw and focuses on Hoseok's directions, trying to memorize the route to the next town on the off-chance that he might need it again in the future.

Eventually, they pull up along another dusty street by a large building. Where his own town had been silent as a grave, Taehyung's surprised to see this one rife with people. There's an atmosphere of overall doom and gloom, but the crowd waits in an orderly fashion outside the building for security to admit them in.

Hoseok grabs his bag from the backseat, then holds out a scrap of paper to him. "I've written this down for you," he says. "You'll need it. Actually, since she's the one sending you back, she'll need it more than you."

Taehyung grabs the paper and flicks a glance down. Scrawled in a haphazard hand are the numbers that have been etched into his watch, chronicling every jump down to the exact second. Disregarding the other details, he focuses on the years that each jump has taken him.

Zero. Minus thirty. Minus one. Minus twenty-five. Minus two. Minus twenty. Minus three.

Hoseok has outlined them in a manner that makes perfect sense. Zero is his present. Then he'd jumped—thirty years ago to save a drowning woman, one year ago to meet Jungkook, twenty-five years ago to save the girl of his dreams from falling off a tree, two years ago to meet Yoongi, twenty years ago to save the girl from an oncoming car, and three year ago to meet Hoseok.

"Be careful in the jumps through the Dark Ages," Hoseok adds. "This year is chaotic enough, but the second is the worst. It's when everyone goes mad because they've figured out that the world is ending."

Taehyung nods again. Apart from the prospect of meeting her, he's no longer enthused about time-traveling, but he can't return to his present unless he's completed the rest of the jumps in that order.

He moves to get out of the car, but Hoseok stops him. "Take the car."

"What?"

"You should have it. You're going to be jumping soon, and you don't know where you'll land. Might be in the middle of traffic and it's safer to be in a car."

He mulls over Hoseok's words and decides that the man's right. It's not the next jump that he's concerned about, but the one after that. If he'd landed among zombies in this jump, who knows where he'll land in that one?

"Thank you," he says to Hoseok.

"Don't mention it." Hoseok grins, looking very much like his usual cheerful self, and climbs out of the car. But just as he's about to leave, he stops and turns around. "I'm glad she chose you to save the world. And whether you succeed or not, thank you for trying."

With a quick wave, Hoseok heads into the building. The moment he's gone, Taehyung hits the accelerator. He's determined to get back to the house before the jump can occur.

It's almost evening by the time he pulls up along a familiar street. The air is still, as always, and all the houses are dark. He suppresses a shudder when he passes by the empty store, but as he rounds a corner, the headlights pick up a strange figure.

"Stop the car!" the stranger yells, stumbling towards him. "Stop and let us in!"

Taehyung stills for a moment, self-preservation warring with the urge to help. Instinctively, he grabs his gun and reaches for the door. But there's something unsettling about the man. And as the headlights pick up the man's figure, Taehyung finally sees why.

It's the same man he'd seen when he'd first arrived—the one with the twin, the one who'd had his arm bitten off by a zombie.

He's turning—but not quite. His face is a white mask, blue veins protruding against his neck as he screams to be let in, and his eyes have taken on that hollow, gouged-out look that has become a distinctive feature of the undead. Even his actions are clumsy, looking almost like a drunk trying to walk a straight line, and his lips split into a wide, maniacal grin as he nears.

And, behind him, dozens of zombies follow. Less lucid than he is but just as fast, they careen towards the car like predators to live prey, making awful screeching and wailing noises.

The man leads the pack, swinging a bat in his good hand and crashing it against the hood of the car. "Let us in!" he shrieks. "Let us in, you son of a bitch! I know who you are! You were there the day my brother and girlfriend died, and you didn't do a fucking thing to help. You stood there with your fucking gun and watched them die, you sorry bastard, and then you left—"

His words make Taehyung's blood run cold. Had he done that? All he'd done, at that moment, was to orientate himself with his new environment. But in retrospect, he could've saved them. He tries to defend himself, but he tastes bile in his throat. He can only watch—frozen in horror—as the zombies crowd round his car, several of them climbing up on the hood and snarling at him through the front window.

Laughing maniacally, the man swerves forward and swings the bat against the car window with inhuman force.

"Let. Us. In!"

The glass splinters into a million fragments. But it's not the man who lunges in first, but a zombie—shrieking and salivating, reaching for him with its talons.

That's when Taehyung's instincts kick back in.

Lifting his gun, he shoots the creature square in the face, then jams down on the accelerator. The sudden movement sends the zombies sliding off the hood, but several more have climbed onto the car. Their feet pound just above his head, nails scratching on metal. He shifts the car into reverse, flinching as the tires run over zombie flesh, and keeps his gun aimed towards the broken window.

"Help me, please," he whispers, flicking a glance down at his watch. He knows that he sounds utterly demented talking to a damn watch, but it's his only reprieve from this hellhole. "I need to jump."

"You can keep driving but not for long, asshole!" The man yells, still running after the car with the other zombies. "Sooner or later, you'll turn into one of us. No one deserves to die more than you!"

He grits his teeth and continues to reverse, all the while seeing the hoard of zombies lumbering after him. But he's nearing the back of a street. He sees the dead end in the rearview mirror, and his fingers tighten around the steering wheel.

Nowhere to run.

Just then, two zombies squeeze in through the broken window. He presses his back against the door, takes aim, and shoots the first in the face. The second lunges forward. With a vicious swipe, the zombie sends the gun clattering to the ground. Misfire. The next bullet lodges into the floorboards.

"Shit!"

He grabs his bag and slams it into the zombie's face. Scrambling for his gun, he kicks out at the creature with one foot. It screeches, lurching forward to sink its teeth into his hand that's clutched around the steering wheel. Quick as thought, he yanks the zombie away, just as a familiar sound floods his ears.

Tick, tick, tick.

He's still grabbing the zombie by the neck when he jumps.