The Midnight Shuttle

Chapter 20 : My Name

"Mom, where's Dita?" Aditia asked as he found his mother sitting in front of the television.

"She's asleep," his mother replied. "She cried earlier. She said something was pressing down on her chest, but she couldn't wake up. She could see you, Mr. Dirga, and everyone else around her, but she couldn't move at all."

"Are you feeling better now, Mom?"

Aditia sat beside her and gently wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"I'm fine now, Dit."

She smiled as she stroked his hair.

"Next time, if you're going somewhere, at least send me a text so I know where you are."

"I wanted to," she said. "I tried calling and texting you, but my phone suddenly stopped working. I was going to borrow Dita's phone, but she was asleep, and I didn't want to wake her. So I wrote you a note and stuck it to the refrigerator with a magnet. Didn't you see it?"

Aditia slowly shook his head.

He already knew what had happened.

Marni...

While possessing Dita, she must have removed his mother's note.

That was what had led to everything that followed.

"Why were you so worried earlier?" his mother asked with a gentle laugh. "And Dita was acting strangely too. When I got home, she was crying because she was so scared. The two of you are like little children. I leave the house for just a while, and you both fall apart."

"Mom."

Aditia hugged her a little tighter.

"Dita and I can't live without you. So please take care of yourself. Always let me know where you are. And if your phone ever breaks again, don't go anywhere alone. Okay?"

She chuckled.

"My goodness... you sound exactly like your father."

She started to stand, then paused.

"Oh, Adit... Dita still doesn't know about her..."

"She doesn't, Mom," Aditia interrupted gently. "And she won't—not yet."

His mother nodded with relief.

"Please don't tell her yet. I'm afraid... if she finds out, she'll feel like she doesn't belong with us anymore. You know how attached she is to this family. I'm afraid she'll start keeping her distance."

She looked at Aditia with teary eyes.

"As far as I'm concerned, I have two children—you and Dita. That will never change."

Aditia smiled and embraced her once more.

"I promise. To me, there are only two women I'll spend my life protecting—my mother and my little sister. I'll never grow tired of protecting either of you."

"Just like Dad asked me to."

Only hours ago...

He had believed he had lost his mother forever.

Outside the house, hidden behind the wall, Alka silently listened to every word.

Her hearing far surpassed that of an ordinary human.

"I'm sorry, Kasep," she whispered.

"No one can know that I've met you. No one can know where I am."

She lowered her gaze.

"This lowly human..."

Then she disappeared into the darkness of the night.

...

Her name was Saba Alkamah.

Have you ever heard of the ancient Kingdom of Saba?

It was the kingdom of Queen Bilqis, the legendary queen whom some tales claimed was born to a human king and a jinn mother—though the truth of that story has long been disputed.

But this story has nothing to do with that legend.

This is the story of another Saba Alkamah.

A little girl who appeared one day without warning.

She was breathtakingly beautiful.

No one knew where she had come from.

No one knew who had left her behind.

Although the villagers found her sudden appearance suspicious, her innocent face quickly erased their doubts.

After discussing the matter together, they decided that the infant should be raised by the married couple who had discovered her deep inside the forest.

As for her name...

Everyone agreed to keep the one written on the small piece of paper that had been left beside her.

Saba Alkamah.

She was a remarkably gentle child.

No one knew her exact age.

Judging only from her size and weight, the villagers believed she had been born only a few days earlier.

She rarely cried.

She never caused trouble.

She was quiet, obedient, and astonishingly easy to care for.

Everyone adored her.

Every story about little Alka seemed to bring happiness to anyone who heard it.

For five wonderful years...

She became the joy of the entire village.

Then everything changed.

The villagers who had once loved her as their own daughter slowly began turning against her.

The same people who had cared for her with endless affection started ignoring her.

Then...

They began treating her with cruelty.

Why?

Because disaster suddenly struck the village.

Misfortune seemed to follow everyone who spent time near Alka.

Crops failed.

Fortunes vanished.

One tragedy after another befell the villagers.

Before long, someone finally spoke the words everyone else had been afraid to say: "Alka is the source of all this."

That single accusation spread through the village like wildfire.

They claimed she had stolen the village's blessings, its fertile land, its prosperity, even God's favor.

To them...

The beautiful little girl they had once cherished was no longer a blessing.

She had become a curse.

The accusation quickly became the village's unquestionable truth, and everyone believed it, becoming convinced that Alka was a cursed child, a child of the Devil; the little girl who had never cried, never complained, and never harmed anyone became the target of everyone's hatred, insulted, denied food, and treated with unbearable cruelty, until eventually the villagers reached a horrifying conclusion and decided to burn her alive, believing it was not murder but a sacrifice.

They believed that by ending Alka's life, every misfortune that had plagued the village would disappear, allowing peace, prosperity, and God's blessings to return.

But something strange kept happening: whenever someone mistreated Alka, that same person would soon suffer a disaster eerily similar to the pain they had inflicted upon her. Instead of questioning themselves, the villagers became even more convinced—"She's the Devil's child." Their fear grew stronger, their hatred became absolute, and for an entire month, they prepared for the execution.

Then...

The day finally arrived.

The five-year-old girl, guilty of nothing except existing, was tied to a wooden stake built by the very people who had once promised to protect her.

They poured kerosene around her tiny body, but Alka didn't cry. Even after enduring countless acts of cruelty, she simply lowered her head. For the first time since arriving in the village, she spoke—not because she had been unable to speak before, but because she had always been too afraid.

"You are despicable humans," she said softly. "You are the people of the final age. You t*****e and murder an innocent child. From this moment on... destruction belongs to you."

The instant her words faded...

The kerosene that had been meant for Alka suddenly splashed back onto the villagers themselves.

Without warning...

Flames erupted.

Screams shattered the air as fire consumed the crowd.

At the same moment, the ropes binding Alka slipped away as though they had never existed.

The five-year-old girl slowly stepped forward.

The villagers stared at her in horror.

For the first time...

They truly believed they were looking at the Devil in the form of a child.

With every step Alka took, the earth beneath her feet withered, flowing streams dried up, and anyone who crossed her path was consumed by flames as the five-year-old girl walked away from the village without looking back—Saba Alkamah...

The child the villagers had called a cursed human, the little girl abandoned in the depths of the forest, returned to the forest once more and disappeared into the darkness of the night; this time, she cried.

Not because of the cruelty she had endured.

But because the dream of living a happy life had been taken from her.

Humans... would always find someone to blame. Five years of prosperity had made them complacent, yet only a few months of hardship were enough for them to search for a scapegoat. What none of them ever realized was that Alka's arrival had never brought disaster; on the contrary, her presence had delayed the village's true calamity for five full years.

...

"I was terrified that night, Sir," Aditia said as he and Mr. Dirga sat at their favorite coffee stall near the police post. "Then Alka suddenly showed up, saved me... and disappeared just as suddenly. I'm not making this up."

Mr. Dirga nodded.

"I never thought you were lying. But I truly didn't see that young woman. When I found you, you were completely alone."

"Maybe she left after she saw you coming," Aditia replied. "But, Sir... the way she fought... it was unbelievable. She didn't fight like an ordinary human."

"Did you check your father's notebook?" Mr. Dirga asked. "About your punishment... and about Alka?"

Aditia's eyes widened.

"Oh, right."

He immediately ran to his minibus and retrieved his father's worn notebook.

"I'll look through it."

He flipped through the pages one by one.

After several minutes...

He stopped.

"I didn't find the name Saba Alkamah," he said. "But I found something else."

Mr. Dirga leaned forward.

"What does it say?"

Aditia lowered his eyes to the final page of his father's notebook.

"There was once a haunted village where every resident was slaughtered by a five-year-old girl. After the m******e, the child disappeared into the forest and was never seen again. The village became cursed. Anyone who tried to rebuild it was struck by misfortune. The spirits of the murdered villagers wandered endlessly, and strange sounds echoed through the ruins—people crying, screaming, and moaning in agony."

He paused before continuing.

"There were also countless sightings of burned figures. The strangest part was what happened to the construction workers. Some became possessed. Others suddenly felt an unbearable heat throughout their bodies, and blisters appeared on their skin exactly like severe burn wounds. But the injuries would disappear on their own as soon as they left the village."

Mr. Dirga looked at him thoughtfully and asked what any of that had to do with Alka, wondering if Aditia believed the little girl who destroyed the village was her. Aditia slowly closed the notebook and admitted he didn’t know, letting out a quiet breath before explaining that his instincts told him Alka wasn’t an ordinary human—the way she fought and disappeared was unlike anything he had ever seen. Mr. Dirga’s expression turned serious as he warned that if the girl truly was Alka, then Aditia needed to be careful because she could be very dangerous. Aditia lowered his gaze to the notebook and replied that whoever she was, she had saved his life, and he had no reason to fear her.

After a brief silence, Aditia said he wanted to visit the woman who owned the coffee stall near the cemetery, since she had seen Alka with him that night and might know something. Mr. Dirga agreed but reminded him to be cautious and to call immediately if anything happened. Aditia nodded, and the two men went their separate ways—Mr. Dirga returning to the police station while Aditia headed back toward the small coffee stall beside the cemetery.

When he arrived, the place was unusually quiet. The owner was wiping down the empty tables. Aditia politely ordered a black coffee, and she told him to wait a moment before disappearing inside. A few minutes later, she returned with a steaming cup and placed it on the table. Aditia smiled and asked if he could ask her something. She agreed, and without wasting time, he asked directly if she knew Alka.

The woman nodded and said she knew Alka well, mentioning that she came there often. When Aditia asked where she lived, the woman simply smiled and shook her head, saying she had no idea. Then she pointed behind him and told him to ask her directly. Aditia quickly turned around, and at that exact moment, Alka appeared.

"Hey, Dit," she greeted casually, as if they had only been apart for a short while.

"Alka!"

"Yeah?"

"Can we talk?"

She shrugged. "Sure. Go ahead. Who's stopping you?" She sat down beside him on the long wooden bench.

"Alka..."

"Yeah?"

"Can I ask you something?"

"What is it?"

"Who... are you?"

"Saba Alkamah."

Without hesitation, she picked up Aditia's coffee and took a relaxed sip, making him smile.

"I know your name. That's not what I meant."

"Then what do you mean?"

"I want to know about your life. Who are you? And... why did you save me?"

The smile faded from Alka's face.

"Do I really have to tell you?"

"You don't," Aditia said gently. "Not if you don't want to. But there's one thing I'm sure of."

He looked straight into her eyes. "You're not an ordinary human."

Alka lowered her gaze. "No. I'm not."

"I was born to a human mother and a jinn father. Their f*******n union brought a child into this world..." She paused, forcing herself to continue. "A devil's child. A punishment from God for the selfish desires they chose over everything else."

Her voice grew quieter, and she looked ashamed.

Aditia hesitated before asking, "Were you... the little girl who slaughtered that village?"

Alka clenched her fists. "It wasn't me. It was God's destiny." She lifted her head, anger burning in her eyes. "They tried to kill me. I was angry. And then... it happened. If only they had known the truth."

Aditia fell silent for a moment. "Then why did you save me?"

Alka looked at him quietly. "Because I'm keeping a promise I made to your father."

Aditia frowned. "My father? What promise?"

Alka slowly set the coffee cup back onto the table. "He told me that..."