Morgan soared through the air. The combination of increasing his weight and diving, then decreasing it and soaring upward, allowed him to remain airborne without difficulty. It took a little getting used to, but after a few minutes, it was natural to him. Mara had designed the glider with convenient handles, making the control very intuitive. As he followed the railway, he passed a few smaller towns, none as large as Maple Creek, nestled in the mountains. In each of these towns, there were signs of fighting and many burned and destroyed buildings, but no signs of life or movement.

  As dawn broke, he left the harsh slopes of the mountains and their harsher cold weather and descended into the Georgian flatlands. The heavy green of pines gave way to a colorful explosion of leaves. Morgan continued his flight along the gently sloping and turning railway, anxious about meeting back up, but in awe of the beauty below him. Ahead a few miles, just at the edge of his vision, he saw a larger town spreading out north of the railway and a large lake.

  At the train station were an engine and a few passenger cars that looked familiar. At this distance, it was too far to see definition, but it still made his insides flutter unfamiliarly. Was he nervous about meeting back up with the group? How much had they progressed past him while he was trapped for weeks? As he descended closer, he noticed changes he didn’t recognize in the design, as well as a large US flag emblazoned on the sides and top. It wasn’t the Academy train. His heart dropped.

  There was, however, movement on the roof of the engine. A lone figure paced back and forth. Sophia suggested that descending from the sky on an unsuspecting guard was not the best option if he just wanted to talk and not immediately appear as a threat. Morgan agreed, landing on the tracks about half a mile away. He did a quick assessment of his appearance. Bloody smears ran down his chest and arms. He changed his shirt and stored the glider in his storage.

  As he walked down the tracks towards the train, he saw a sign proclaiming the upcoming Mount Hope Station. Someone had painted over the H in Hope with a crude letter N, so it read Mount Nope Station. As he walked, the scents of many men, the unnatural scent of metals, and an unfamiliar animal smell came to him. About 50 feet from the train, he stopped, standing in the middle of the rails, and he called out loudly.

  “Hello, I’m friendly. Hello!” There was a shuffling noise from the engine, and a tall young boy, about Morgan’s age, jumped down, standing opposite him. He held a thick compound crossbow up against his shoulder and pointed at the ground between him and Morgan. His eyes frantically scanned the woods on either side of the track as he called out.

  “Halt!” the boy commanded nervously. “Don’t come any closer.” Morgan just stood there, hands in the air. The boy reached up, putting his hand to his ear, speaking quietly and quickly. He eyed Morgan studiously for a moment, shook his head, and spoke for a few more seconds before addressing Morgan again. “Wait a minute, Sergeant is on his way.” Morgan used this time to do Threat Scan, which came back as Trivial.

  “Can I put my hands down at least?” Morgan asked. “I’ll just stand here and not move.” The Soldier motioned he could put his arms down. The young Soldier continued anxiously scanning the surroundings, hands tensing on the handle of his crossbow. Then, a middle-aged Hispanic soldier with a fierce expression rounded the corner with two other Soldiers on his heels. They all carried a similar crossbow to the younger Soldier. As soon as he saw Morgan, he relaxed slightly, but the young Soldier started and then came rigidly to attention.

  “Sir, I st…st.. stopped this man walking toward the train,” he stuttered.

  “Private Cartwright, carry on back to your post. We will talk to our visitor,” the older man directed to the young Soldier. The two other Soldiers fanned out slightly behind the older man as he addressed Morgan.

  “Good morning, Citizen,” the man said, his voice calm in a soft baritone. “I am Captain Hernandez. Who are you, and what can the US Army do for you this morning?” His words and demeanor were comforting, but contrasted with the tension of the Soldiers behind him.

  “I’m Morgan,” Morgan said as casually as he could, trying to put them at ease. “I am just following these tracks to the coast. Saw your train and thought you were my friends. I don’t mean no trouble,” Morgan said. As he was talking, one soldier leaned forward and whispered in the captain’s ear. His face lifted.

  “You are a friend of the redheaded engineer?” The captain asked.

  “Mara, you know her? They made it to the coast?” Morgan asked, his excitement crowding his questions together.

  “They did indeed make it to the coast.” The captain replied, motioning to the other two Soldiers, who visibly relaxed. “They even traded us this train and cars to come extract the people here in Mount Hope. We are just refilling the water tank and letting our Pyro guy rest while we load up the survivors here. You are welcome to ride back with us. It’s just 50 miles or so to The Saltmarsh Citadel.”

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  “That’s okay unless you need help or something. I will get there quicker on my own.” Morgan replied, now eager to get moving again. He had also felt the buff from Loner fade as soon as these people were now considered allies.

  “No worries, we are good to go here, just a few groups of monsters. The locals have about 40 survivors holed up just over the hill there, in an old warehouse.”

  As he finished, the Soldier behind him placed a hand to his ear, then said grimly, “Sir, there’s a situation with Bravo Team.”

  “Excuse us,” he said to Morgan, then turned and had a hurried conversation with the two Soldiers who relayed back and forth.

  Morgan thought.

  Sophia concluded.

  “I’m sorry, I need to go. Sergeant Madison will escort you anywhere you need to go,” Captain Hernandez said, indicating the Soldier at his shoulder. Sergeant Madison stepped forward. He was young, slightly older than Morgan, with a thin face. The rest of the train was coming alive with movement as commands were shouted and echoed down the line.

  “What is the problem?” Morgan asked impulsively. This wasn’t any of his concern. He should just keep going to the coast.

  The captain gave him an appraising glance, then his eyes unfocused for a second, accessing his HUD, then went wide. “Three skulls,” he whispered under his breath. Then louder, “I am sure someone able to travel alone through the mountains is more than capable, but there is a swarm of monsters that is coming from a sewer tunnel, one of our team is there now and is in trouble. It is best if civilians stay out of danger as much as possible in these times.”

  “Well,” Morgan said, “killing monsters is apparently the only thing I have ever been good at. If I can help at all, let me know.”

  “I appreciate the enthusiasm, kid, but I am not sending an unarmed civilian into the grinder, unless you are a mage?” The captain responded.

  “Nope, can’t use magic,” Morgan responded, as he concentrated on summoning Broken Fang, “but I am not unarmed.” The appearance of the large weapon made all three Soldiers gasp. Sergeant Madison even half-raised his weapon a fraction of a second before returning it. “I won’t get in the way, but I can’t just leave if you might need my help.”

  “Very well, Sergeant Madison, he is under your watch. Let’s get stepping. The other teams should be ready by now.”

  Morgan dismissed his weapon and jogged behind Sergeant Madison. At the rally point, they met up with a dozen other Soldiers wiping sleep from their bleary faces. They had been on recovery when the muster call went out. Falling into a loose formation, Morgan noted they all had similar equipment: a sword or axe on their hip, a crossbow, a quiver, a small backpack and either had a shield or a spear. The pace was slow to Morgan. He had grown accustomed to his increased movement speed, and this pace seemed like a crawl. As they moved, the unfamiliar scent from before grew stronger.

  They arrived on the front line with Bravo Team. A couple of other teams had reinforced the fierce fighting before Morgan’s group arrived. A small group of wounded men was behind the primary force, being healed with magic and bandages. The relief was palpable as the fresh reinforcements rushed in to strengthen the flagging lines.

  The monsters throwing themselves at the Soldiers were thick, squat orcs wielding axes and great swords, being supported by goblins and hobgoblins with ranged weapons. The Soldiers on the front had all depleted their crossbow bolts and were now in melee. Every other Soldier had a large shield they were locking into a phalanx to hold back the wave of green flesh.

  The monsters came in waves of five orcs with three goblins and two hobgoblins. The orcs were being thinned rapidly, but now that they had run low on bolts, the ranged monsters were massing at the entrance to the sewer access tunnel. A couple of explosive spells from the new Soldiers gave everyone a chance to breathe.

  Sophia warned.

  “Captain, Sir,” Morgan bellowed. Getting his attention as he directed his men. He finished and then walked over to Morgan. Morgan continued as Sophia had told him, “That is an entrance to a dungeon. These monsters will not stop until the champion is killed. At night, the waves will get much larger.”

  The captain cursed and then nodded curtly and ran back over to his men. Morgan did Threat Scan on an orc, Trivial. There was a thunderous roar, and two giant trolls squeezed through the tunnel entrance. They had a shimmer to them. Threat Scan showed them as Moderate. “Those are the elites,” Morgan shouted, moving toward Captain Hernandez. The trolls were larger than the ones Morgan had seen before. The lead one rushed forward and shrugged off the couple of crossbow bolts that hit it with no noticeable discomfort.

  Sophia said. Morgan agreed as he made it to Hernandez’s side.

  “Sir, keep your men back as far as possible. I need at least 50 feet.” Morgan said, summoning Broken Fang.

  “I don’t think I want you…” the captain began, but Morgan lost the rest of his words as he leaped toward the lead troll, broken fang forward.