The people aboard the helicopter were stunned into silence. For a moment, the only sounds inside the cabin were the whirring blades overhead and the faint groans of the undead rising from below. They had already witnessed Sian's vicious efficiency in battle—the way he tore through zombies without hesitation, how violence came to him as naturally as breathing. But still, nothing had prepared them for this.
He had leapt.
From the helicopter's height—five, maybe six stories above the ground—he had let go and plunged into the abyss of the night. No one sane would dare attempt such a thing. That fall should have meant shattered bones, torn flesh, and death. Yet Sian had descended with all the nonchalance of a man stepping off a curb.
"Is he insane?" someone aboard whispered, though the question was pointless. They already knew the answer.
