Chapter 005: Leaving the Bus
Rafandra's statement began to shake the minds that had previously clung to the illusion of safety.
Creeeet… creeet… creeet…
The sound of metal screeching slipped into their bones, torturing the nerves of anyone who heard it.
The bus was moving.
Slowly, unmistakably.
The vibration could no longer be ignored.
The terrain outside was unstable—but no one knew what it actually was.
Their brains—accustomed to the logical navigation of the modern world—now felt as though they had lost their map.
Where were they?
How had they ended up here?
No one could guess.
Faintly, far outside, howls and roars still echoed. Distant, vague—but threatening.
What should we do now?
The question quietly occupied the minds of everyone still alive inside the bus.
Even though two of them were no longer breathing.
Rezvan spoke up.
"Children… Pak Marta… Rafandra is right. And you're right too. Right now, it seems we're safer inside the bus. But outside there…"
He paused.
"We don't know. All we hear are sounds and vibrations—but in truth… none of us understands what's really happening."
His voice was heavy but controlled, as if trying to shield them with tone alone.
Like students when a teacher speaks, they listened.
Not because they were calm—but because classroom instinct was all they had left.
They were trying to find footing in logic that was already collapsing.
"Help… yes, we're all hoping for it. But until when? And meanwhile… your friend Gilang needs real action. He can't stay like that…"
Damar held Gilang tightly, as if his grip alone could keep life from slipping away.
Dina, sitting nearby, bit her lip. Tears fell one by one, silently.
The stench of blood thickened.
Clung.
Rotten in the nose.
"Hik… hik… hik…"
Sobs began to break free. Soft. Suppressed. But spreading like fire beneath dry grass. What they had been holding back finally surfaced.
"Home… I want to go home…" Dina whispered hoarsely, almost inaudible—but the emotions she'd restrained finally exploded.
"Home! I shouldn't be here! This… this isn't my place!"
"You think you're the only one who feels that way?!" Ardi snapped.
"Girls like you—always blaming others!"
"What does gender have to do with any of this?!" Dina shot back angrily.
"I'm just honest about how I feel! Do you want to stay here forever?! Then go out there—talk to whatever creature messed us up like this!"
"Ardi, why are you dragging gender into this?!" Kirana cut in sharply.
"Are we the only ones crying?! You're all scared too!"
"We're crying—but we're not whining like you!"
"THEN WHAT?!" Kirana yelled back, her voice exploding upward.
Among the three female students, she was the fiercest.
"ENOUGH!!"
Rezvan's voice tore through the argument.
It wasn't anger—it was desperation, and the crushing weight of responsibility no one person could bear alone.
Everyone flinched and fell silent, staring at Rezvan with pleading, wordless expressions.
"You are teenagers close to adulthood. Not kindergarteners. Stop this pointless argument!"
Seeing they were listening again, Rezvan continued.
"Look around you! Focus on the danger right in front of us. Gilang, Danang, Rama—three of them are unconscious. We don't know how serious their conditions are. And Gilang—look—his leg is still bleeding. Are they supposed to wait while we keep arguing in circles?!"
The bus fell silent again.
Not calm—
Compressed with pressure.
Pak Marta spoke softly from the front deck.
"But, Sir… if we go outside now… even if we don't fully understand what's out there—whatever tossed this bus around isn't a shared hallucination. It's real…"
Some students nodded slowly.
Some stared blankly.
Rafandra clenched his fists.
"I know. I understand. We all feel it. The blood on our bodies, the pain—it's real. But at the very least… we have to try. Standing still waiting for uncertain help isn't a real solution. We need to act."
Silence.
Not agreement.
Not rejection either.
Rezvan spoke again.
"What if we check the situation outside first?"
Still silence.
After his suggestion, no one answered immediately. Only heavy breathing, the soft friction of fabric scraping metal, and faint screeching from outside.
Creeet… Creeet…
The bus still swayed—tilted, unstable.
"Check outside?" Ardi whispered, half in disbelief. "You're serious, Sir?"
"Look at them," Rafandra said, pointing at Gilang, Danang, and Rama.
"If not now, it could be too late. We don't know how much time they have."
"And if we open the door and that creature is there—then what?"
Nendra cut in, voice sharp though his hands trembled on his lap.
"Want us all to die?!"
Rezvan held himself back.
He knew those words weren't meant to attack—but to survive.
"Then what do you want to do?"
"Stay here?"
"For how long?"
"Are you sure this bus will even hold?!"
Rafandra was starting to lose control.
"Stop yelling at us!" Damar shouted.
"We're not cowards—but we're not stupid either! Outside is unknown, Om!"
The atmosphere grew hotter.
"H-Hey… stop…"
Indah's soft voice cut through. Quiet—but audible because the room was airtight with tension.
"I know we're all scared…" she said gently,
"But… if we stay silent, we're just waiting to die."
Heads turned.
No one expected words like that from Indah—one of the quieter girls. The tone wasn't dramatic.
It was realistic.
"I'm not saying we should all go out," she continued softly.
"But… if everyone waits for someone else to take the risk, then who's going to move first?"
No one answered.
Pak Marta, who had been sitting quietly up front, finally spoke.
"If someone really has to go out… I suggest not alone. At least two people. Watch each other's backs."
Rafandra nodded.
"We don't all have to go."
Everyone inhaled sharply.
The expressions were clear—this was not what they wanted. And if possible, they would rather push the responsibility elsewhere.
Rafandra saw the refusals written all over their faces.
He understood.
"One or two people is enough. Those most capable of surviving. The rest stay here—monitor the injured."
Rezvan cut in.
"I'll go with you."
In the silence, there was a trace of relief—someone had volunteered without being named.
Murmurs of agreement followed, mixed with pointing fingers, then silence again.
Rezvan stood slowly.
He looked at the conscious students one by one.
Then at Pak Marta—his eyes silently saying, I'm entrusting them to you.
"I'll be going out," he said.
Several students turned instantly.
Some wanted to speak—but none truly could.
They could only listen.
"Pak Guru, we'll go together," Rafandra said.
"We won't go far. Just find higher or open ground, confirm our location, then come back. Twenty minutes. If we don't return by then—no one comes after us. Hold out. Wait."
"Sir… are you sure…?" Damar's voice cracked.
"It's not about being sure," Rezvan replied.
"Indah's right. Someone has to move—or we'll all be stuck."
He faced the children again.
Faces that had been laughing just last night—now covered in wounds, dust, blood, and tears.
"You're not little children anymore. You're old enough to know when to be brave—and when to protect each other. Your task now… is to survive. Watch each other. Don't stay silent. Don't fight again. If Pak Supir and I don't come back… stay calm. Act wisely."
The bus felt like it was holding its breath.
Rezvan and Rafandra prepared themselves.
There wasn't much to take—only a lighter, leftover mineral water, and a broken metal bar from a seat handle.
"Pak…"
Indah called softly.
She stood, approached carefully, and removed her scarf.
"Here… so you won't get too cold. It's… really freezing."
Rezvan smiled faintly.
"Thank you, Indah."
Then Damar stood too. His hands trembled as he offered a box cutter he'd somehow found.
"Just in case, Om."
Rafandra raised an eyebrow, surprised—but took it.
"Where did this come from?"
"D-don't know, Om—found it," Damar replied quickly.
"I swear."
"I believe you," Rafandra said half-sarcastically.
"Damar!" Rezvan snapped, eyes sharp.
"It's true, Pak! I found it!" Damar insisted.
"It's a bus cutter, Pak—calm down," Rafandra added, soothingly.
"Your student isn't into anything weird. I was just joking."
"Om, don't do that… If this wasn't happening, Pak Rezvan could've called my parents already…"
"Yeah, yeah—sorry, sorry…"
"Huuu—"
A wave of muffled cheers spread—half whispers, half laughter.
Fear still lingered—but for the first time, a fragile sense of togetherness flickered in the darkness.