Chapter 12: Chapter 12

As an orphan, it wasn't easy growing up.

While most children showered in altruistic affection bestowed by loved ones, he never knew when he would have his next meal. Survival was a struggle, but he at least had freedom. There were children like him who he befriended at the orphanage. They were his friends. They were his family.

But when a group of reticent men decided to adopt every single child from the orphanage, his life changed drastically for the worse. He could still feel the hard and cold metal surface of the cargo containers they were shipped away on. They were not adopted children. They were merely merchandise.

He was only 6 years old.

Ever since then, all he could remember was the brutality and betrayal taking place every single day at every possible interval. Young children who complained were punished, each broken and swollen finger symbolizing the consequence of retaliation. Disobedient ones who dared to rebel against the organization were slaughtered like livestock, their heads hung on poles on the training fields as a demonstration.

For the children who obeyed? They were rewarded. They were given larger portions of food and they were allowed to take tempered baths indoors instead of the freezing, raging rivers outside. The reward for obedience was the prompt that evoked compliance.

It was only the beginning. Then, they were told that only a quarter out of a hundred of them would be selected as qualified assassins.

Treacherous training and perilous missions and constant backstabbing and the gradual yet thorough moulding of their young human brains…

Jericho had been broken a long time ago. The day he forced himself to choke his best friend to death so that he could squeeze into the final spot on selection day was the day he lost his soul.

But then, the apocalypse happened. On that plane, the childhood he lost was partially revived. These weird memories of him playing with actual toys and laughing without worry troubled him. Was this what my childhood was like on another planet? He was still an orphan on Earth, but his orphanage was lucky enough to be noticed and sponsored by charities that wholeheartedly cared before the apocalypse turned the world into hell.

'So what position am I exactly in?'

Slightly disoriented, Jericho returned to reality.

Beyond the forest where the beachfront met the glistening sea, a landed plane snuggled atop the grains of golden sand, half-submerged in the shallow salt waters. Lights out and concealed by darkness, the aircraft was visually void of life. But incessant growls and perturbing gnawing sounded from within the aircraft, signalling possible trace of survivors fighting for their lives.

It was the plane Jericho had saved a while ago. Despite escaping the fate of the other unfortunate aircraft, it remained bound by a crisis.

Zombies plagued rampantly across the sandy beach, wandering not far off the massive aircraft. The plane was the center of attraction for the mindless zombies since the clamorous noises originating from it did not seem keen on ceasing. Triggered by sound, it agitated the mindless zombies.

Luckily, the absence of intellectual capabilities prevented them from climbing up the evacuation slide. Their attempts to join in the fun above them were futile as they would continuously puncture the inflatable slide owing to their lack of coordination.

"Jericho. You're the smart one here, got any plans?" Crouching behind a thick patch of bush in the forest located on the west side of the plane, Jay whispered at Jericho, scowling at the sight of so many zombies.

"Although I am pretty capable, I won't be able to kill that many zombies," Jericho replied softly as he poked his head out to take another peek at the situation. "Perhaps we could lure them away from the beach. I'm more agile than you so I'll handle them."

"Are you out of your mind? There are at least a hundred zombies out there? They can run and are relentless! A tiny mistake could get you killed!" Jay rejected instantly, adamant about Jericho's plan. But without being able to complete his sentence, Jericho had already vanished from the spot he was at, banging two daggers against one another as he ran towards the beach.

Jericho's footsteps were heavy. He harnessed every molecule of air in his lungs, announcing his presence to every being on the crowded beach. "Hello, zombies! Come catch me if you can!"

His voice trailed off into the night sky as he made his way to the other end of the beach.

"Ughhhhh!"

The agitated growling of zombies filled the air as the zombies scattered across the beach streamed towards their common enemy — a child running as fast as a professional athlete.

Other than the ones located on the beach, several zombies abroad the plane poured out of it. Crashing onto the ground, they stumbled back unfazed as they too, made their way towards Jericho, hungry for flesh.

Despite being worried for the kid that decided to risk his own life, Jay took advantage of the opportunity Jericho created. After seeing the silhouette of Jericho and the swarm of zombies disappearing into the east side of the beach, Jay rushed towards the parked plane.

The plane door was 1.8 meters (6 feet) from the ground, the standard height for the evaluation slide to be released from. Utilizing the deflating slide, he hoisted himself upwards, climbing into the aircraft. On his right, the cockpit door was sealed tight with no sign of commotion. On the left where passengers sat, he heard the enraged roars of zombies. Peeking through the curtains, he found no undead wandering about in the business class section. So, he carefully tiptoed through the aisle, arriving at the curtains separating business class from economy seats.

Judging from the first glance through the stained curtains, roughly five or six zombies were wailing in their seats as their buckled seatbelts held them back with ease. None of them were seated in the aisle seat, probably because aisle seat passengers were the first ones to unbuckle and leave the plane. Up ahead at the very end of the aircraft were three rampaging zombies that were clawing and ramming against the right laboratory. The door to the laboratory was not successfully unlocked as it constantly folded inwards due to the zombies' wrath while the survivors inside forcefully pushed it back, retaliating in order to survive.

The door to the laboratory door was flimsy in comparison to typical doors in standard households. With the strength possessed by berserk zombies, it would seem fairly impossible for the survivors to have survived that long. But fortunately, the foldable feature of the door, as well as the stupid zombies not knowing the concept of distribution of weight, allowed the survivors to hang on for such a lengthy period of time.

Acknowledging the fact that his wife might be one of the survivors sheltering in that laboratory, Jay immediately took action. Picking up a suitcase left behind during the chaos, he threw it toward the zombies, trying to divert their attention. The ruckus caught the attention of two of the zombies as they fiercely pounced at Jay who was a few rows away. The remaining zombie was still eager to devour the humans it had placed so much effort to eliminate, ramming against the bathroom door.

Hefting another luggage bag over his head, Jay hurled it towards the incoming zombie, knocking it backwards as it collided against its companion. Charging at the knocked-down zombie, he lifted himself upwards with the 27th-row aisle seat rests as support. Using his momentum, Jay allowed gravity to do its job. With a loud crunch, his boots landed directly on the first zombie, crushing its skull. Unsheathing the precious dagger Jericho gifted him, he penetrated the other zombie's skull as the weapon sliced into one of the hardest bones of the human body with ease. This sort of swift battle instinct did not belong to him. It was the influence of his past life.

Occupied, he didn't notice the final zombie giving up on its original target, now running towards him wildly.

"I've got you covered!" Just then, a young man caught up to the zombie, grabbing it by the legs so that it would topple onto the floor. Behind, another figure leaped out, bashing the skull of the zombie repeatedly with a pen-like weapon. In fact, it was a pen, an exquisite pen decorated in gold and diamond.

"Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck you!"

The woman holding the pen yelled in disgust and unquenchable rage, striking the back of the zombie's skull over and over and over again until it produced only the sound of slush and muck.

"Esther! Are you okay?" Ignoring the two survivors, Jay laid his eyes on the woman exiting the laboratory. She was assisting a young man who looked extremely fatigued, helping him walk steadily.

Relieved that his wife was safe, Jay's gloom expression dissipated. He immediately offered his help. "Is the young man injured?"

"No, he just over exerted himself. He held the door long enough before help arrived. By the way, where's the rescue team? Don't tell me it's just you?" After finally unleashing her pent up rage, the woman answered hurriedly with a barrage of questions. "Why is this happen? What should we do?"

The woman began to break down as she slouched onto an aisle seat, whimpering her pain away. The young man who dragged down the zombie went up to comfort her, but his dejected expression exposed his dispirited emotion.

"Sorry to inform you but it's just me. And the kid that saved the plane." Jay sighed, fully understanding their current state of emotions. "Are there anymore survivors on the plane?"

The woman, still choking on her tears, pointed towards the left laboratory, grinding her teeth with hatred. "My boyfriend. Ex—boyfriend is in there."

She paused before recalling another important detail. "He was bitten by a zombie if I remembered correctly. If zombie movies are accurate, everyone hiding in there might be…"

"Dead…" The exhausted young man whom Esther held onto completed her sentence, lamenting about the harsh reality. "No wonder they suddenly started yelling in the middle of the chaos. They're dead."

That was when they noticed the pool of red oozing out the tiny gap under the laboratory door.

Not wanting to witness the gory onslaught in the laboratory, Jay ushered the survivors to head to the front of the plane at the business class section. On the way, he didn't forget to end the zombified passengers' misery.

"Three. Two. One. Pull! Three. Two. One. Pull!"

All of a sudden, Jay heard faint grunts, suggesting more survivors.

"Do any of you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"People talking." Certain with what he heard, he traced the noise to cockpit where it originated from.

"If you still have some energy, come help me pull open this door!" Uniting together, the survivors used the dragging friction between their palms and the cockpit door to tug hard.

After a short struggle, the cockpit door finally nudged open, enough to slip their fingers in. With adequate amount of strength, they dragged open the cockpit door, where they were welcomed by more survivors. Amongst the newcomers were the two pilots, the female flight attendant Jericho threatened, Lupin the male flight attendant and three others.

"Thank you so much for rescuing us! Without your help, we wouldn't have had enough manpower to pull open the cockpit door." The fat pilot bowed down to display his appreciation, exclaiming in genuine glee.

"Don't thank me. " Jay shook his head humbly. "It was Jericho. The kid that forced you to land the plane."

"Was it then?" The pilot's cheerful smile elevated the lenses nestling on his chubby cheeks. "Where is he? I want to thank him personally for saving our lives!"

"Well… it's complicated." Breaking into an awkward smile, Jay was a little ashamed to speak his next sentence. "You all could vaguely see the zombies retreating from the beach right?"

"Yeah! I was so close to tearing up at that magnificent sight. What could elicit that type of response from these undead zombies?" The other pilot cried out vehemently.

Observing Jay's look of embarrassment, his wife, Esther, was the first one to be struck with a sudden realization. Soon, most people had arrived at the same conclusion.

"Um. How should I say this? You know the 13 year old I was talking about. Yeah. He's the one being chased by hundreds of zombies right now."