Harvest of The Fallen

Chapter 02

“What happened?”

That question kept spinning around in Laga’s head. He tried to remember what had happened to him moments earlier.

Laga still remembered those damn bullies hitting him with a car. Just as he was about to beat them up, a teacher showed up and accused him of causing trouble. Some of the bullies’ henchmen tried to grab him. Then a sudden storm broke out, and he was hit by a car for the second time.

Laga leaned back in his seat, repeatedly massaging his head.

“Why am I on this bus wearing a prison uniform? Did those bullies and that teacher report me to the police?”

“If that’s true, why can’t I remember anything? Shouldn’t I have been taken to the police station, gone through a trial, and finally been found guilty?”

“Am I dreaming?”

Laga slapped his cheek.

“This definitely isn’t a dream. But how did I end up on this bus wearing these clothes?”

Laga looked himself over again.

A long-sleeved prison uniform.

Bare feet.

I look like shit.

Laga stood up from his seat.

He saw four people in front of him, one across the aisle, and five behind him.

Six men and four women.

They all looked... confused.

There were around forty seats on the bus, but only eleven were occupied. The bus itself wasn’t very large. Three dim lights illuminated the front, middle, and rear sections.

The seats, metal poles, and floor were rusty and filthy.

This bus looks ancient.

Amid the silence, a woman sitting in the front row suddenly screamed.

“Oh, my God! What’s happening to me? Why am I on this lousy bus?”

Her scream immediately caught Laga’s and the other passengers’ attention. Her voice was so shrill that it made their ears hurt.

The woman with short red hair stood up, stomping her feet on the bus floor.

“Who are you guys, and why are you wearing those ugly clothes? And why am I wearing them too? Oh my gosh, what does my face look like right now?”

“Keep your voice down, Miss! You’re hurting my ears,” said a man standing nearby.

“Excuse me! You’re so rude!” the woman snapped, rolling her eyes. “I’m an influencer and content creator with a hundred thousand followers on social media. What will my followers say if they find out I’m wearing a prisoner’s uniform?”

“Oh my gosh, they’d definitely come up with all sorts of theories. Besides, orange isn’t my favorite color. I prefer...”

A tattooed woman sitting in the back cut her off.

“I’d prefer it if you just shut up, Miss! Nobody knows who you are! Nobody cares about you either!”

Another passenger chimed in, “Your followers might just be fake accounts or bots you bought.”

“What? I’m going to record all of you and upload the video to my social media. My followers need to know about your rude behavior! I’ll make sure your lives are ruined!”

“Wait, where’s my phone?”

The red-haired woman frantically searched her clothes and checked beneath the seat.

“Who hid my phone? This really isn’t funny!”

“I know someone hid my phone! Once I find out who did it, I’ll make a video right away and post it on social media!”

Laga chose to remain silent as he observed his surroundings.

Among all the passengers, he was the youngest. The six male passengers ranged in age from their early twenties to their early sixties, as did the four female passengers.

Laga tapped on the window and rubbed his chilled neck.

“I hate this outfit!”

The red-haired woman tried to pull off her clothes.

“Why won’t this outfit come off? I don’t want to wear this! I...”

“Ah!”

The woman suddenly screamed and collapsed onto the floor.

A few people laughed, especially the tattooed woman in the back.

The content creator stood up, rubbing her head. When she saw that her hand had turned black, she screamed again and again until she finally lost consciousness.

Laughter filled the bus for a moment before the atmosphere gradually fell silent again.

The lights seemed to dim even further.

Cold air seeped in from beneath the bus, making some of the passengers shiver.

A few small stones rolled back and forth across the floor.

“That chatty woman was right,” said a passenger behind Laga. “These clothes can’t be taken off. My hand got an electric shock too, even though it didn’t turn black like hers.”

One by one, the passengers tried to remove their clothes, including Laga.

“I just realized something. There’s no driver behind the wheel,” said a bespectacled man sitting in the front seat.

Several passengers stood up.

A tall, burly man in his thirties walked toward the front and tried to open the door.

“How can there be no driver on this bus?” Laga muttered as he looked toward the front.

A fairly thick glass partition separated the passenger compartment from the driver’s area.

“The driver’s seat is indeed empty. And the doors are tightly locked.”

“So this bus is driving itself, and the doors can’t be opened?” asked a frightened middle-aged woman.

“That means we’re trapped on this lousy bus.”

A woman with shoulder-length hair looked around nervously. “Where... is this bus taking us?”

“I didn’t find any engine on this bus. This bus... might be controlled from the outside, or another vehicle could be pulling it.”

A long-haired man tapped on the window, trying to see outside.

“I can’t see anything through this thick fog. I can’t open the window either.”

The other passengers checked the windows and found the same thing.

“I really can’t see anything, except for some faint red lights. Could those be some kind of animal’s eyes?” Laga muttered.

“Wait, what’s that code on your neck?”

A female passenger in her early thirties pointed at the heavyset man sitting nearby.

“Code?” The heavyset man touched his neck before turning toward her. “You have a code on your neck too.”

The passengers began examining one another’s necks. Some even tried rubbing the strange black markings away.

Laga checked his reflection in the window and discovered a code on the left side of his neck.

404.L173

The long-haired man spoke up. “We’re all wearing prison uniforms and have codes on our necks. We’re just like real prisoners.”

“I can’t erase this code,” said the woman with shoulder-length hair.

The bespectacled man suddenly stood up. “The code ‘404’...”

Everyone fell silent, waiting for him to continue.

“Code 404 means ‘not found’ or ‘deleted.’ And we all have that code as our initial code.”

Silence filled the bus again as everyone began speculating about what it meant.

The red-haired woman was still unconscious beneath the seat, and no one seemed interested in helping her.

The woman with shoulder-length hair suddenly burst into tears.

“Oh my God, what’s really happening to me? I was typing up a financial report when the storm suddenly hit. Could it be because I tampered with the report that I ended up in prison?”

The middle-aged woman said, “A storm? I was cooking in the kitchen when the storm hit too. I was planning to poison my husband because he was cheating on me and often abused me. Is that why I’m in prison?”

The bald man laughed as he rubbed his face several times.

“I was beating up a doctor when the storm hit.”

A storm?

Did they all experience the same storm?

Laga clenched his fists tightly, choosing to remain silent.

“What did you do wrong, kid?” asked the bald man behind him.

“I didn’t do anything wrong. I... just got hit by a car.”

“That’s not a crime.”

Laga gave him a faint smile.

“I know.”

Silence settled over the bus.

The bus jolted several times, but none of the passengers reacted.

The red-haired woman finally woke up. She rubbed her head before suddenly screaming when she saw her blackened hand.

“Oh my God! Someone help me right now! My hand is black! I don’t want my followers to find out! Hurry up and do something!”

Several passengers looked annoyed.

The muscular man approached the loud woman.

“Shut your mouth before I shut it for you, tomato-head!”

“I’m curious to see what you’re going to use to shut my mouth,” the woman challenged.

“You’re free to choose between my hands and my feet. Which do you prefer? I’ll grant your wish right away.”

The woman snorted and returned to her seat, rolling her eyes.

“Why am I stuck with this stupid crowd? I was taking some photos when the storm hit. Could it be... that I’m being punished for being late to shoot that commercial?”

The long-haired man spoke up.

“Damn, I was supposed to be performing at a campus event right now.”

The bespectacled man stood in the middle of the bus.

“We’d better stay calm so we can assess the situation. Arguing won’t do us any good.”

Laga and the other passengers turned toward him.

“I’ve pieced together a few facts so far. First, we’re wearing prison uniforms and have numbers on our necks like prisoners. Second, judging by our physical characteristics and accents, we seem to come from different regions and even different countries. Third, for some reason, we can all understand one another’s languages.”

Everyone fell silent, exchanging glances.

“The man with glasses has a point,” Laga muttered.

The chatty red-haired woman started talking again.

“We might be in some kind of trap. We’ve been placed in a situation where it looks like we’re prisoners. I was really annoyed when I realized someone had taken off my clothes and put this prison uniform on me.”

The muscular man immediately responded.

“You’ve been talking nonsense this whole time. I was working out when the storm hit. Even if I hadn’t died, I’d probably be on the verge of death and lying in a hospital bed in a coma. Besides, I don’t have time to be an extra in some trashy show!”

“Shut up, you ugly man! You’ve been driving me crazy this whole time!” the red-haired woman snapped.

“If I’m ugly, then what should I call a tomato-haired woman like you?”

“Shut up!” snapped a middle-aged man who had remained silent until then.

“You can’t force me to shut up, Old Man.”

The muscular man smiled wickedly.

“Just because you...”

The middle-aged man raised a finger to his lips.

“Shh.”

A moment later, a howling sound echoed through the bus.

The sound grew louder and clearer as time passed.

The lights gradually dimmed until the bus was plunged into complete darkness.

The next second, the bus suddenly shook violently, throwing the passengers in every direction.