(Old Version) The Blood of the Covenant

Chapter Thirty-Six: Micah

 God, he was so lost.

Time was ticking. He couldn't waste a moment. And yet, here he was, standing in a hallway, dumbfounded. Turning slowly as he tried to regain his bearings.

These stupid school hallways all seemed the same. Was this really the teacher's living quarters? It felt more like a prison block.

He felt warm energy billow up within as anxiety rose. He cursed as a layer of crystal encrusted on his forearm beneath his jacket. He quickly reabsorbed it and fought to control his emotions. He couldn't afford to spend any energy. He might need it later if he got into a fight. He shouldered his backpack, the weight of the homemade incendiary device heavy on his back. With his sixth sense, he could easily detect all the energy it gave off. It made him anxious to get rid of it.

He took a steadying breath, feeling the warm air reflect back onto his face, thanks to his mask, and walked on. In what direction? He had no idea. Buildings like this were full of thick walls and identical hallways and rooms. It was a horrible place to be in when one was blind and relying on a supernatural sense that didn't allow him the luxury of reading signs on doors and walls.

He belatedly wished he'd brought someone along as a navigator.

Of all the places to get lost in at TAFAH, this building was the worst. It was teeming full of adults. Most of which were very likely to be heroes, current or retired. As a criminal, he'd stand no chance against these odds. He needed to be sneaky. He needed to get in, plant the firebomb, and get out. Originally, he planned to put it in the supply closet on the first floor. But he couldn't find it. This place was a labyrinth.

He'd have to improvise.

He muttered a curse. This was far from ideal.

He wandered around, focusing on trying to see through the various doors ahead of him. He needed a small room. One that wasn't likely to be checked any time soon. A closet, an office, something. Anything. If he was caught, there was literally no way he'd be mistaken for a lost student. Dressed as he was, it'd be clear to anyone with eyes that he was up to no good. It certainly didn't help that Micah was tall and rather athletically built. He could easily pass as an adult.

He flinched as he suddenly heard the tell-tale sound of a fire alarm far in the distance. Someone had already set off their firebomb. He was running behind schedule.

"Shit." He muttered, throwing open the nearest empty room. He closed the door behind him and pulled his backpack off his shoulders, setting it on the wooden cabinet before him. He unzipped it, pulled out the fuse that laid tangled within, then the box of matches. He tried his best to strike the match, but it was a dud. He grumbled another curse, then tried another. Once again, a dud. He pulled out another, praying it'd work when he heard the door open behind him.

"Just what do you think you're doing?" A man's voice demanded.

Micah went very still. Then, without hesitation, he struck the match and lit the fuse. It sizzled, quickly burning. That was his sign to get out of here. He turned to face the man. He was tall, it seemed. He had something in his hand. Micah wasn't sure what it was. He'd have to steer clear of it.

Micah didn't wait to stop and chat. He charged at the man, a dagger of kinetic energy crystalizing in his hand, just in case. The man swore, raising the object in his hand to defend himself, but it was too late. Micah plowed his shoulder right into him, knocking them both through the doorway.

The man was knocked over, but he rolled and ended up in a tripod pose in a move that even Micah could admire. Micah stumbled to a stop, considering trying to knock the man out to prevent him from raising the alarm or putting out the fire, but it was too late. Micah just needed to get away. He didn't know how big the blast would be, and he didn't want to find out. With that thought, he took off down the hall.