Apocalypse: King of Zombies-Chapter 351: This isn’t a meteor

"???"

The other three zombies stared at Big Ears, their faces full of question marks. This plan sounded... sketchy.

Locomotive frowned. "Did you devolve from sitting around in the territory too long or what? Just waiting here for the stone slab to fall? Seriously?"

"What else can we do?" Big Ears replied, trying to sound reasonable. "We've already confirmed it's not anywhere else. Waiting right here gives us the best odds."

Shrimpy nodded. "Alright, fine. We'll go with Big Ears' plan. It's not like we've had any luck searching elsewhere. Who knows? Maybe both slabs really did fall into the same crater."

"Exactly! We wait right here. If it doesn't drop, we're not leaving!" Big Ears declared, full of confidence.

"Alright!"

The other three zombies, swept up by his enthusiasm, nodded in agreement.

So, the four of them sat down at the edge of the meteor crater, heads tilted back, eyes fixed on the pitch-black sky, waiting for a streak of fire to appear.

Unfortunately… the sky stayed dark. The clouds churned and shifted, but nothing happened.

Time ticked by, slowly and silently.

2,000 Years Later…

No one knew how long it had been. The four zombies were still sitting at the crater's edge, practically covered in cobwebs.

They kept staring at the sky, like statues frozen in time.

"Big Ears," Shrimpy finally broke the silence, his patience worn thin, "I think your plan might be flawed. What are the odds both slabs landed in the same crater, really?"

"Shut up," Big Ears snapped. "It hasn't even been that long. If you can't wait this out, how are we ever gonna pull off something big?"

"Ugh, fine…" Shrimpy sighed, clearly over it.

More time passed.

Even Locomotive started to waver. "There's been zero movement. Maybe… we should come up with a backup plan?"

"Don't rush it. Let the slab float around in space a little longer," Big Ears insisted, still clinging to his theory.

But then Mist suddenly spoke up, "Wait a sec… if we're just sitting here waiting, why are all four of us doing it? Wouldn't it be easier to take shifts?"

"Hey… that actually makes sense." The other three zombies exchanged glances, nodding in agreement.

This smoky guy might actually be onto something…

Just then, a flicker of red light appeared on the distant horizon—tiny, but unmistakable against the dark sky.

Big Ears immediately looked up, eyes lighting up with excitement.

"We don't have to wait anymore! The slab's coming!"

"For real? O.o" The others looked up too, surprised. Sure enough, a fiery red glow was streaking across the sky, falling fast.

But… it wasn't heading toward Rancho Cucamonga.

"Damn! We actually waited it out!" Locomotive said, stunned.

"But it looks like it's landing somewhere else," Mist observed.

"Then what are we standing around for? Let's go!" Big Ears shouted, waving them forward.

Without hesitation, they all took off, sprinting toward the falling firelight. They'd been through hell trying to find that slab—searching high and low, even resorting to just sitting and waiting. That's how determined they were.

Now that they finally had a lead?

No way they were letting it go.

The four zombies tore through the dark streets, moving fast. They were pros at running away—speed was their thing.

Before long, they reached the edge of Rancho Cucamonga. Ahead lay an overgrown road leading out of town, littered with overturned, rusted-out cars, most of them swallowed by vines.

A few stray zombies wandered in the shadows, their low growls echoing in the dark.

"Big Ears," Shrimpy said cautiously, "once we cross this road, we're out of Rancho Cucamonga. That's not our turf anymore. Could be dangerous."

Big Ears scanned the horizon. The fiery glow was getting brighter, still falling, and it wasn't that far off.

"We've been with the boss long enough—we've gotta show we've grown. Time to step up. I'm the damn Overlord of Rancho Cucamonga!"

"Uh…" The others blinked, caught off guard by his sudden burst of passion.

"Yeah! We're the Overlord Squad! What's a little danger?"

"Don't let fear win, dammit!"

"Charge!"

"…"

The four zombies let out low, guttural roars—and picked up speed.

A moment later—

They had made it out of the city, officially stepping beyond Ethan's territory.

On either side of the highway stretched abandoned houses and open fields, overgrown with wild grass. In the distance, dark mountains and forests loomed under the night sky, pitch-black and eerie. Every now and then, the air echoed with the screeches and howls of mutated beasts.

Up ahead, the fiery glow in the sky was getting closer—so close, it was starting to paint the clouds red. And it was still falling.

But something about it felt… off.

Big Ears squinted, his sharp hearing picking up on something strange. "Wait… that's not right."

The others tensed. He was right. The falling fireball didn't have the same apocalyptic vibe as the one that had crashed into Rancho Cucamonga. That time, the Star Map slab had torn through the clouds like a divine judgment, lighting up the entire sky like the end of the world.

This? This was way more low-key. And now that they were closer, they could hear it—an engine. A loud, sputtering engine.

"This isn't a meteor," Locomotive said, narrowing his eyes.

As the object got closer, they could make out the shape—a massive aircraft, one of its engines on fire, spiraling down at an angle.

"BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM!"

With a deafening roar, the plane slammed into the ground, skidding for hundreds of feet. It tore through rocks and trees, sparks flying everywhere, the screech of metal on earth piercing the night.

"Holy crap," Big Ears muttered.

The four zombies stared, wide-eyed, as the plane finally came to a stop in the middle of the field. It had carved a trench nearly a thousand feet long, dirt and debris flung everywhere. The wings were snapped clean off, the fuselage cracked open, and flames still licked at parts of the wreckage.

It was a full-blown crash site.

And on the side of the plane, barely visible through the smoke and fire, were markings in Japanese.

BANG!

A loud thud echoed from the wreckage as someone inside kicked open a hole in the fuselage. A middle-aged man stumbled out, covered in soot and dirt.

"Goddammit!" he cursed, coughing, then turned back to the hole and waved frantically.

"Move! Get out, now! This thing could blow any second!"

One by one, people began pouring out—men and women, all carrying backpacks or makeshift bags. There were a lot of them.

They looked thin, ragged, like they'd been through hell. Many had grotesque red boils on their faces, swollen and oozing—mutations from radiation exposure.

"We finally made it out of Japan!"

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"Don't celebrate yet. This place might not be safe either."

"Hmph! You think it's worse than Japan? No way."

"Exactly. At least there's no radiation here!"

"We just need to find somewhere… somewhere we can survive."

"..."

They chattered in rapid Japanese, voices filled with exhaustion, hope, and fear.

Meanwhile, Big Ears and the others were crouched behind a dirt mound, watching the scene unfold with wide eyes.

"Japanese food?" Big Ears muttered, confused.

"Big Ears, they look disgusting…" Shrimpy said, wrinkling his nose in disgust.

"So many humans! We gotta run!" Mist panicked, already turning to bolt.

Locomotive grabbed him by the back of the neck like a misbehaving puppy.

"Get back here!"

...