CHAPTER 1: ARRIVAL IN KLUANG

The express bus from Kuala Lumpur pulled up right in front of the old Kluang terminal. The hot air, thick with the scent of asphalt and kopitiam breakfasts, rushed in the moment Aiman stepped off. The clock read 11:23 a.m. The sun was blazing, and his backpack felt heavier than usual.

“Welcome to Kluang, gang!” shouted Liam, raising his hand as if he had just stepped off a plane. His hair, stiff with Gatsby gel, didn’t move a single inch.

Zara rolled her eyes. “This is Kluang, Liam, not LAX. Please don’t embarrass us.”

“If I take a photo at the train station later, nobody stop me,” chimed in Nico from behind. “They say it’s iconic.”

Risa just nodded quietly. She had been silent most of the trip, only observing. Her hand gripped a small journal that never left her side.

The five of them, Aiman, Zara, Liam, Nico, and Risa, had been selected to represent their schools at the 2008 National Student Conference. The conference was scheduled to last a week and would be held at a boarding school on the outskirts of Kluang. As usual, their accompanying officer, Mr. Azmi, was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps he was still checking them in, or chatting with the bus driver.

“Mr. Azmi told us to wait here for the homestay van,” said Aiman after rechecking the SMS he received earlier. “He said it’s blue, number plate JFD 9381.”

“How many stars is our homestay?” asked Nico with a wry smile. “Honestly, I’ll be thankful if it just has air-conditioning.”

Zara shrugged. “As long as it’s not haunted.”

Liam laughed. “If it is, we’ll just invite the ghost to join the conference. Make it the National Ghost Ambassador.”

Moments later, an old blue van pulled up in front of them. The driver was a middle-aged man wearing a pagoda T-shirt and a faded cap. “You kids from the conference?” he asked, opening the back door.

“Yes, uncle,” Aiman replied politely.

“Hop in. The house is nearby. It’s in Taman Sri Impian.”

On the way to the homestay, they passed through the quiet town of Kluang, which looked almost frozen in time. Wooden shop lots still stood with old signage. One photo shop had a faded banner: “Instant Prints! Ready in 30 Minutes!” complete with a retro 90s camera logo. They also passed a cyber café advertising “Cheap Internet RM2/hour.”

“This all reminds me of something,” said Nico.

“Probably one of those TV dramas you watch…” added Liam.

But the calm atmosphere began to shift as they drove past a patch of forest at the foot of Mount Lambak. Zara, seated by the window, sat upright.

“Hey, do you guys see that? A fallen tree?”

They all turned. Sure enough, a large tree had collapsed across part of the road. The van driver slowed down.

“That’s odd,” he muttered. “It didn’t even rain last night.”

The group fell silent. There was something about the air, heavy and almost suffocating. Aiman jotted down a note in his book: Fallen tree. No rain. At the base of Mount Lambak.

A few minutes later, they arrived at the homestay. It was a single-storey house with faded yellow paint and a rusty metal gate. There were patches of fresh cement on the side wall, as if recently repaired.

“Looks decent,” Risa said softly. The sound of crickets filled the afternoon air.

Inside, the house was simple. A living room with floral couches, an old television, and a standing fan that turned slowly. Each of their rooms had a sheet of paper with their name taped to the door.

“Okay everyone,” said Aiman after they had dropped their bags, “we’ve got two hours before the first briefing. I think we should take a quick walk around. Check out the area, take some pictures. Who knows, it might be useful for our reports later.”

Zara nodded. “Let’s visit the train station. I heard it’s beautiful.”

“Beauty is subjective,” said Nico. “But sure, let’s go. At least we get to see the real Kluang.”

Liam raised his camera. “And if we bump into aliens, I’ll be the first to upload the photo to Friendster.”

They laughed, unaware that what awaited them in Kluang wasn’t just a conference or a sightseeing trip. Behind the old buildings, fallen trees, and the quiet of Mount Lambak, something was stirring. These five students were about to witness a secret nearly erased by time.

Aiman glanced at the mountain before stepping out.

“Why are you staring at it like that?” Risa asked.

“I don’t know. I just… this place feels different.”