Chapter 68
Micah
After the meeting with the Heavenly Council, we returned home. We eased our way back into daily life—school, work, and the responsibilities that awaited us—though not without a stern scolding from our parents and caretakers.
The weight of the mission lingered in our minds, following us like a shadow. Thankfully, things had been relatively calm; several weeks passed without any demon activity.
I resumed my usual routine of juggling multiple obligations. After school, I helped my uncle and newly adopted nephew complete his community service. We volunteered at the orphanage—the same one that burned down last year, now rebuilt. The restoration had been remarkable, with everything restored and even some new additions, but challenges remained.
One of the biggest issues was a quarantined section of the orphanage. Several children had fallen ill, and despite having their regular nurse and extra staff, they were still short-handed. Many of the medicines they had tried were ineffective.
The head nurse gathered us for an update. "As you all know, we're overwhelmed. Most of the medicines we've tried haven't worked. We've found one pharmacy that carries a newer, stronger drug that could help, but they're backed up due to the outbreak. Traffic and construction downtown has slowed everything to a halt. I'm honestly unsure how we'll get the meds before it's too late. We need every available staff member here."
Determined to help, I stepped forward. "I can take the train and get there. It'll take a bit longer with transfers, but I can make it back in two hours."
The nurse sighed in relief. "That's better than what we could have hoped for. We're stretched too thin to spare anyone."
"That's exactly why I'll go. I know the train routes well, and since I'm a volunteer, it won't take staff away from the children."
She thanked me and handed me the prescription details. I got the medicine filled quickly and boarded the returning train home. Things were going smoothly, and I might even make it back sooner than expected.
I sat next to an older woman who seemed lonely and curious.
"That's a lot of medicine. Do you have a lot of sick folks where you're headed?
"Yes, I'm taking it to an orphanage. The staff is low, and the children need it."
She nodded. "Children always seem to get sick around this time of year. We older folks don't fare well either. I used to be a nurse myself back in the day. Now, in retirement, I just run some errands around town."
As we talked, the train rumbled along, but something felt...off. An unsettling shift in the air sent an electric tension through my body. I gripped the medicine bag tightly.
I glanced toward the front. The driver was sweating, gripping the controls tightly as the brakes let out a long, eerie squeal.
A man sitting near the front had been listening to our conversation. He twitched, his body convulsing unnaturally.
The older woman rose, likely intending to check on him. "Young man, are you okay?"
I placed a hand on her shoulder. "Something's not right. Stay back."
She hesitated, then nodded, sensing the warning in my voice.
The man's head snapped toward us, his eyes turning pitch black. A guttural snarl escaped his lips before he lunged at the driver with terrifying precision. His fingernails sank into the driver's shoulder, and with inhuman strength, he hurled the man against the dashboard. The sickening crack of bone sent a shudder through me.
The train lurched violently.
Panic erupted. If the train were to derail, everyone would be in danger. And if I didn't deliver the medicine, the children might not make it. I couldn't let that happen.
The possessed man turned to me, a twisted grin stretching across his face.
"You will not deliver that medicine," he rasped, his voice layered with something inhuman. "Those children are meant to perish. The weak have no place in the new world."
My grip on the medicine bag tightened. "Like hell, they don't."
I handed the medicine to the older woman. "If anything happens, get this to the orphanage."
She nodded and ran toward the back with the other terrified passengers.
The possessed man lunged. I dodged, his attack denting the train's metal wall. Passengers screamed, huddling more tightly together in fear at the back of the train.
His form began to shift—his arms elongated, fingers sharpening into claws. The train was cramped, but I had to make it work.
I dodged another swipe and countered with a powerful kick to his chest, sending him crashing into the seats. But he wasn't down for long. As he rose, he looked less human, more monstrous.
Recalling my training, I evaded another attack. Energy pulsed around my fist as I struck his face with a devastating blow. He shrieked, his form flickering as he struggled to hold control. He hadn't fully transformed yet, so I hesitated to use my weapon—I didn't want to kill him if he could be saved.
With a final, concentrated strike, I drove both fists into the core of his chest, unleashing purified energy. The demon's presence unraveled, releasing its grip on the man.
He collapsed, unconscious but alive. The train was still in disarray, but the immediate danger had passed.
"Someone tie him up for the police," I called to the other passengers.
The older woman stepped forward, hands on her hips. "Well, don't just stand there—get to it before he wakes up!"
A passenger scrambled to comply, pulling a length of climbing rope from his backpack.
I exhaled sharply and hurried to the front of the train. I knelt beside the driver and checked his pulse; it was weak but steady.
"Hey, I never got your name, but can you help put pressure on his wound?" I asked the older woman.
"Yes, dear, I sure can, and the name's Suzann."
I grabbed the radio. "This is Micah. The train driver is unconscious. We had a hostile passenger—he's now detained—but I need assistance stopping the train, as the driver requires immediate medical attention. I have someone for now keeping pressure on the bleeding near his shoulder."
"Copy that," the dispatcher's radio crackled back. "Listen closely. Can you maintain speed until you reach the station?"
As the train sped onward, I noticed my reflection in the glass. I narrowed my eyes, pushing myself up. With resolve burning in my eyes, I nodded. "I can do this!" I took a deep breath. On a battlefield, I had faced many enemies and struggled against the darkness. I will defend people in need. Not only because I am a Waymaker but because it is who I am.
Once at the station, the man was arrested for his attack on the train driver, but he also had a warrant for his arrest for multiple attempts of robbery.
The train driver was able to get the medical treatment he needed.
The older woman walked up to me, handing me the medicine for the children. "My job's not done yet," she said. "You said the orphanage is overwhelmed and short-staffed. I may be rusty, but I'd like to help."
"You're more than welcome to come—I'm not going to stop you." I teased her with a smile at her. "Thank you again for everything you've done!"
We brought the medication to the orphanage. The other woman and the nurses rush to administer it. I could visibly see relief on their faces as their expressions softened, and they breathed a sigh of relief.
The fight on the train played out in my head; there was still no time to dwell, as greater battles lay ahead as we worked tirelessly to finish the work in the orphanage.
Our time was up to volunteer for the day, and I left, feeling the weight of exhaustion in all my limbs.
I hope to get a good night's sleep, but my thoughts are still restless. The demon's words echoed in my mind: "The weak have no place in the new world."
Was this just an empty threat? It felt deliberate—like a warning. Was this really an isolated attack?
Or was it just the beginning of something far worse?
Or was I just overthinking things? I had a feeling we weren't just fighting demons anymore. We were fighting a movement!