Jareth's face darkened with a bitter taste of despair. He tried to flee, adding,
"You guys can go to the Land of the Dead. I'll take the second route and rendezvous with you if you make it out alive."
It was a lame excuse and a desperate attempt to escape. He turned to leave, but Rodric was faster. In one swift motion, Rodric's powerful hand clamped down on Jareth's collar and yanked him back like a misbehaving dog.
"Not so fast, fatso," Rodric growled, pulling him close. "Looks like we can still use your saggy ass."
Jareth groaned in frustration, throwing his hands up.
"Oh, come on! What the living hell do you still need me for? I already told you how to get to the new world!"
Eira stepped forward, arms crossed, expression sharp.
"That was just for not killing you. You're still our captive, and if you try anything funny, we'll go back to our original deal. Besides," she said, pointing at the horizon, "we don't know how to navigate through zombie land. You're the one with the maps, remember?"
Jareth rolled his eyes but didn't argue. He stood tall and waved to one of his men.
"Bring the horses!" he barked, then turned to Valeria. "Make sure you meet us at the rendezvous point. Won't you pray for me?"
Valeria snorted. "Ugh, just go already! Nobody's gonna miss your sorry fat ass and I hope one of those zombies gets you right in the butt."
Her voice dripped with disdain. She didn't even glance at him as she tightened the strap on her bag.
Even though Jareth and Valeria had traveled together for a while, their relationship was tense barely tolerable. Valeria had always hated him, held a grudge deeper than Eira could understand. He treated her like a tool, always demanding her skills without ever giving credit. And then there were the looks the leering eyes that followed her, undressing her in his mind. It made her stomach churn. Jareth was the kind of man who thought charm meant making others uncomfortable.
"That's not how you treat a longtime friend," Jareth said, trying to sound wounded, but it came off whiny.
Eira raised an eyebrow, watching them bicker.
Were they friends or enemies? Frenemies? She couldn't tell. But it wasn't the time to figure it out. They had more pressing matters ahead.
Jareth led them to the small clearing where the horses were tied. The beasts stomped their hooves, restless as if sensing danger nearby.
Eira picked one and tried to mount, but she got it completely wrong. The horse neighed in protest and reared slightly, throwing her off balance. She hit the ground with a dull thud.
"Who knew mounting a horse would be this difficult?" she muttered, rubbing her sore elbow.
This was her first time even touching a horse, much less riding one.
Rodric, watching from the side, smirked.
"If you can't mount your horse, why don't you mount—"
"Don't even finish that sentence," Eira shot back with a glare.
Determined not to be anyone's burden, she tried again. And again. Five tries in total. Each time she got a face full of dirt and humiliation. The others just watched in silence, probably unsure whether to laugh or help.
Finally, Jareth, with a hint of smugness, said,
"You know, trained horsemen sometimes break their spines just falling off. Some even die. If you don't wanna end up like that, just ride with your guy over there."
Eira sighed, glaring at him, then reluctantly climbed onto Rodric's horse behind him.
With everyone mounted, they set off toward Sentra City now known by a far more terrifying name: the Land of the Dead.
---
The city gates were broken, twisted open like a pair of rotted jaws. Thick green fog clung to the streets, swirling between the crumbled buildings. And walking within the haze were dozens maybe hundreds of zombies. They wandered without purpose, their movements jerky, random. But it was clear they were searching… for something living.
Eira gripped Rodric's waist tighter. Her eyes scanned the surroundings, her breath hitching. She'd never seen anything like this. The horror movies she'd watched back home didn't prepare her for the stench, the dread, the constant tension in her chest.
"This is insane," she muttered. "Why's it always worse than fiction?"
She stared at the green mist and asked,
"What is that stuff? Is it poison? Does it turn you into one of them?"
Jareth, surprisingly calm, replied,
"I know it looks poisonous, but it's not. I don't know why exactly. My guess? It's tied to the zombies. Maybe they release it or need it. Whatever it is, it doesn't kill you... immediately."
The zombies weren't just monsters. They were victims humans infected by microscopic Kaleidos, parasitic organisms that hijacked their brains. These Kaleidos were unique. Unlike the wild ones that ate their hosts immediately, these took their time. They slowly devoured brain cells, sometimes over years, keeping their host alive just long enough to remain mobile.
Rodric nudged his horse forward, carefully leading the group into the city. He kept the pace slow and steady, not wanting to draw attention.
Eira whispered nervously,
"Can they see us? Will they go after the horses? I mean what if they run, or worse, get eaten? Have they not caused a full-blown apocalypse already? And if one bites us do we turn?"
"Yes, yes, kind of, and yes," Jareth muttered. "They eat anything except plants. If they bite you, the Kaleidos gets in. And yeah, you'll turn. Could be minutes. Could be hours."
"But why not just infect everyone?" Eira asked.
"Because turning more people just makes more mouths to feed. They prefer to eat their victims rather than spread the infection. Helps keep their numbers down," Jareth explained.
"The Kaleidos operate like cells in a giant organism," he added, voice lowering. "The zombies are the cells. The citythis landis the organism. That's why they can't go too far beyond the city. Step out of range, and they die."
Eira tried to process all of it, heart pounding in her chest. Then
"AH-CHOO!"
Jareth let out a loud sneeze. The fog's stench had overwhelmed him.
The sound cut through the air like a gunshot.
Zombies turned.
One by one, their heads snapped in the group's direction.
"Oh no," Eira whispered.
The nearest horde charged.
And they weren't slow. These were fast inhumanly fast.
The horses panicked. Before anyone could react, the first wave of zombies had already reached them, lunging for the horses and tearing into their flesh with horrifying ease. Screams, neighs, and the sound of tearing flesh filled the air.
The horses buckled. Riders fell.
Eira hit the ground hard, pain shooting through her back. She looked up to see Rodric already pulling out his sword.
They were surrounded and the zombies were still coming.
Trapped in the heart of death's territory, there was nowhere left to run.