Chapter 8

Thick vines and hard leaves battered his cheeks, but Jericho ignored the nuisances. Damp soil splattered everywhere with every step he took.

"That stupid old man. Thinking he can rescue an entire planeload of humans." Jericho murmured as his brain automatically guided him through the narrow gaps and paths within the forest.

"How many people are in that plane? 200? 300? There's no way he'll handle that."

Jericho ducked to avoid a massive branch in the path, still continuing on his journey at a high speed. He shrugged off a piece of dried leaf that landed on his shoulder as he continued to traverse towards the west side of the forest.

'Who cares about him? We just met. That familiarity we shared was a fluke.' Jericho testified in his head. At this point, he was saving his breath for breathing instead of talking.

'Finally! I found it."

Weaving through a narrow opening between a lush row of tall bushes, Jericho finally reached his destination.

It was an isolated house. Not too extravagant, but clearly not affordable to most people in the world. Atop the house was an elevated platform with railings surrounding it. Although not visible from Jericho's low altitude, he was certain what it was.

It was a helipad, a landing platform for aircraft such as helicopters, mostly afforded by the richest of rich.

But to his dismay, there was no aircraft occupying the property, just the rustling of leaves and booing of the wind.

'What now?' Expelling the disappointment he felt, his brain cells activated, diagnosing the situation to make his next best decision.

Prior to harmless humans suddenly becoming man-eating zombies, he had a mission to complete. And as an experienced assassin, he had preplanned every possibility and scenario in case any inconveniences occur. Of course, an apocalypse wasn't one of them, but emergency landings because of malfunctions were still within his considerations.

Amongst the numerous information studied and installed in his memory, Kujil island has a private mansion etched not far off the shoreline where stinking rich people visit to hold grand parties or go for a holiday. Perhaps there would be an aircraft for him to travel to escape the island.

But today wasn't his lucky day.

Accepting reality, Jericho crouched low, creeping towards the lone house. He kept his dagger clenched in his hand, always ready for potential danger.

The lone house being of modern design had a lot of glass and windows, most likely to enable its residents to view the exclusive beauty of the island. There were lamps and porch lights traced around the property, banishing the darkness looming with their faint lights.

'No cobwebs. The front yard is relatively clean.' Jericho concealed himself, even more, blending into the greenery. 'There could be people in this house. Maybe butlers and maids?'

Just as Jericho was about to inch closer, a man bursted out of the woods, decorated with leaves and perspiration.

"Oh my god, a house!" The man released a shout of exhilaration, running up towards the front door.

Bang— Bang— Bang—

The man banged on the door with his first rapidly, his shirt drenched with sweat marks.

"Anyone here?! Please let me in! There are monsters outside! Please!" The man begged as he tried unlocking the door.

"Oh my! What's going on sir? Please calm down!" Diluting away the man's screams for help, Jericho heard hurried footsteps and the shuffling of keys before the door unlocked, revealing a good-looking young man in a blue waistcoat.

"Thank god! Close the door now! Close it!"

The man pushed away from the young man before toppling onto the floor inside the house, saliva spritzing out as he demanded him to shut the door.

Frowning, the young man glanced condescendingly at the dishevelled man before peeking out the door with curiosity.

There wasn't anything suspicious in his vision, just the thick trees and bushes surrounding the property as usual. The dim porch lights craved out the eerie shadows of the forest, highlighting the unknown.

The young man frowned once again with a perplexed look, wondering where the sweaty man came from. His look soon shifted into shock as another man emerged from the depths of the forest, equally muddled as he ran towards the lights, panting in fear.

"Stop! Where… what's going on?! Explain yourselves!" The young man, now sensing something wrong, raised his awareness towards the two men now gasping for air on the floor.

"Zo! Zombies! They are killing us! We need to lock the doors and arm ourselves!" One of the men frantically answered, catching his breath as he attempted to explain the situation, only to make him sound more like a wild lunatic.

As if verification of the young man's question, another figure emerged from a grove, trampling towards the house too. But unlike the two dishevelled men, the figure stood out horrifyingly. It had blood smeared over its upper body, jerking uncannily.

"Lock the door! That's the zombie I'm talking about! Hurry!" Fearing death, one of the men grabbed hold of the young man's arm, begging him to swing the door shut, not realizing he could have done it himself. But at the state he was in currently, it's not surprising he wasn't thinking straight.

Realizing what the two men were saying may be true, the young man quickly responded by pulling out an object from his waist.

The zombie was now within a short 10-meter radius, enclosing the young man at running speed. He could see the jaundiced skin, the grey eyes and the lethal blood loss produced by the foul humanoid creature. Without any more hesitation, he pressed the trigger.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The two bullets collide in the zombie's chest, while the final one shattered the elbow of the incoming zombie. Immune to pain, the mindless zombie hardly flinched backwards caused of the opposing force, before continuing its race towards the delicious human before it.

Panicking, the young man fired another few rounds at the zombie until one finally pierced through its skull. Losing the only thing propelling its body, the zombie crashed onto the ground due to its momentum, finally turning into an actual corpse.

"I… I killed someone…" Shaking furiously, the young man dropped his gun onto the floor, terrified of the atrocity he had just committed. His face paled up, shock engulfing him.

"It was a zombie! It really was a zombie right?" As if trying to seek redemption for what he has done, he immediately turned around to the two men he just met, frantically spitting out his justifications for killing the humanoid creature.

The men nodded with a blank expression, clearly dumbstruck at the sight of a deranged corpse.

The gunshots, although subsided, seemed to linger.

Soon, more survivors from the plane crash made their way towards the lone house, attracted by the gunshots that bellowed in the night.

"A gun! Someone to protect me!" Cheering in joy, a middle-aged man focused on running towards the sound, hopeful to escape the nightmare he was in. Distracted by his thoughts, the man's foot got caught by a tree root growing out of the soil, tripping the man. Stumbling forward, the man slammed hard onto the earth.

"No no no-no. This can't be!" The man groaned in horror, gripping the soil in an attempt to pull himself forward. The moist soil slipped through the gaps between his fingers, some sneaking into his fingernails like children playing a prank. Feeling a hard tug, the man witnessed in horror as a haunting figure grabbed into his ankle.

He kicked violently with all his might. He had a family waiting for him back home. He cannot die here.

Crack! The chilling sound of bones cracking travelled into his ears. The figure grabbing onto him loosened its grip. It was a frail figure, eyes bulged and drenched in blood. However, the danger did not end there. More figures trampled out of the forest, lunging towards the man, devouring him with numbers.

The father perished. His dream of returning to his family was banished into oblivion…