No Escaping from His World. Pt. 2

    The industrial park was dark and quiet. A cool wind was blowing between the silent warehouses and still semi trailers. It made Leonhart uneasy; made him worry that his chattering teeth would give away their location. He and Oliver were hidden underneath one of the trailers, crouching behind the tires. He had his messenger bag slung over his shoulder and was wearing his long black coat.

    Oliver carried a messenger bag of his own now, purchased by Leonhart from the Meijer up the road. Leonhart had insisted on buying the boy some darker clothes too, so he was dressed in black as well.

    Neither said a word as they moved stealthily from one hiding spot to the next, cautiously avoiding the streetlights. Their eyes were constantly scanning their surroundings while their ears were open for even the tiniest sound.

    “Which warehouse?” Leonhart asked, his voice barely a whisper.

    “I’m trying to remember,” Oliver hissed back. “It looks different in the dark.”

    Leonhart rolled his eyes and then closed them. “Keep a look out for a second.” He shut out his other senses the way he’d been learning before he left Black Sun. It was easiest to sense the presence of ME without information coming from his other five senses.

    The world came into focus in his mind’s eye. He could see the parking lot and buildings around him, only everything appeared to be made of a bluish-white fiery fog. Only Oliver next to him looked different; he looked like a cloud of frosty mist.

    He pushed his sense out further, expanding his mental field of vision until it came upon something. There was a gathering of much brighter lights up ahead, each with a different color and consistency.

    “This way,” he said, opening his eyes and pointing.

    “How do you know?” Oliver asked, following as they darted across a parking lot.

    “There’s a gathering of ME over here. It’s gotta be Talents.”

    They edged their way around another building and came to an abrupt halt. There was light and movement around the corner. Peering around, they saw several yards down that one of the building’s dock doors was open, allowing a black van to drive in. There were a few black sedans parked outside the door, and a man in a black suit and sunglasses next to it.

    “There,” Leonhart said, ducking back around the building.

    “Now what do we do?”

    “C’mon, I saw another door this way.”

    They backtracked around the building until they came to a glass door marked “Employee’s Only.” They tried the handle, but of course it was locked.

    “Use your Talent on it,” Leonhart instructed, pointing to the glass near the lock.

    “On that?” Oliver asked, earning a stern look. He reached up and touched his finger to the clear surface, concentrating. Oliver had discovered his Talent over the winter, when he realized the cold hadn’t bothered him at all. He felt perfectly comfortable wearing shorts and a tee shirt while standing waist-deep in the snow. It had freaked his mom out, which he’d found hilarious.

    Then one day, when he was shoveling after a particularly heavy snow, Oliver had found he could move the snow just by waving his hand at it. Not just move it aside either. He could pick it up, swirl it through the air, even throw it with just his mind. Later, when he’d gone inside to warm up with some hot chocolate, the drink had frozen as soon as he touched it. That had been the hardest part: learning not to freeze things.

    That had been months ago. Oliver had been practicing ever since, and had gotten pretty good at controlling his power. Was he good enough to help his friends though? He was about to find out.

    He focused on the glass, pictured it getting cold and frozen. It worked perfectly, the door quickly being covered with a layer of frost. The moisture in the spring air made it easier, gave him more to freeze.

    “Okay, stand back,” Leonhart said. He balled his fist and focused his ME into his arm before giving one good whack. The frozen glass gave way with a dull crack, creating an opening just big enough to allow Leonhart to reach in and turn the lock.

    “How’d we do that?” Oliver asked as they ducked inside.

    “Freeze it shut,” Leonhart instructed. “Freezing the glass muffled the sound of breaking it. I just used my enhanced strength.”

    Oliver looked over from his task. “I thought your Talent was fire?”

    Leonhart smirked, summoning a ball of flames. “One of them. C’mon.”

    They sprinted through the darkened hallways, Leonhart’s fireball lighting the way. They’d entered into a break room with all of the chairs stacked on the tables. It was eerily silent. Leonhart could hear both his and Oliver’s hearts hammering in their chests. He wished he’d known the layout of the building so he could’ve planned, like he had escaping BSG. Compared to this – wandering blindly in the dark – his own escape had been a piece of cake.

    Leaving the break room opened into a long corridor that led in the direction Leonhart had sensed the gathered ME from. At the end of it was another locked door. This time Oliver froze the handle until Leonhart could quietly break it off.

    Light seeped into the hallway as the door swung open. Leonhart extinguished his flame and both boys flatten against the walls. Through the door they’d just opened was a short hallway leading to another door with a window, where the light was coming from.

    They kept low as they crept down the hall and peeked through the window. On the other side of the door was a wide loading dock. They saw the van from before parked inside, and two more agents in black. Leonhart recognized one as Agent Zimmer and sneered.

    “That makes three. I thought you said only one guard stood watch at night.”

    “There should be.”

    Leonhart pondered for a moment, gritting his teeth. “They’re expecting us. That agent earlier must’ve told them about me.”

    Oliver’s eyes went wide. “What do we do?”

    Leonhart ruffled his hair in frustration. “Like I know,” he groaned. “I’m just making this up as I go. Where are the others from here?”

    Oliver looked through the window again, trying to get his bearings. Beyond the dock were rows of metal racking with pallets stored in them. He remembered that the agents had rigged some of the individual slots in the racking into makeshift cells for the boys – rooms as they called them.

    “Somewhere in those racks,” he said, pointing.

    Leonhart studied the situation; two guards immediately in the way, one outside the door that could come in at any time, and three more lurking somewhere. Even if they got passed the guards, it would take a few minutes find the boys, and then who knows how long to get them out. Could he incapacitate all six agents first? Leonhart had been trained to fight multiple opponents at once, but it was always when he could see them all. If he attacked the two in front of him now, there was no telling when or where the others would come out. He couldn’t rule out the research team having combat ability either.

    He looked around the hallway, wondering if there was anything that could possibly help them, when his eyes landed on something. A broad grin spread across his face.

    “I have an idea; get ready to freeze.”

    Oliver cocked his head to one side and watched curiously as Leonhart reached up the wall and wrapped his fingers around something red: the fire alarm.

    “Wait!” Oliver shouted too late.

    Leonhart yanked the handle down and the alarms sounded, screeching through the halls. Looking back out the window, the boys saw the agents looking around in panic. “Stay hidden,” he instructed, relighting his fireball. “I’ll throw a fireball to set off the sprinklers and then draw their attention. Once everything’s wet start freezing; try to freeze them if you can.”

    “This is crazy!” Oliver complained.

    “Just do it; the fire department will be here soon, and then we’re all screwed!”

    Not waiting for a reply, Leonhart gathered his ME into his legs and shoulder before throwing himself into the door. It shattered, drawing the attention of the two agents, who’d been joined by the third from outside.

    “Surprise assholes!” Leonhart called before hurling a fireball at a pallet on the top rack. It burst into flames, releasing a waft of smoke that quickly set of the sprinklers.

    “That’s the kid!” Zimmer exclaimed as the water fell. “Get him! Search the building for the other one before the fire department shows up!”

    The three agents charged at Leonhart, their bodies glowing in different hues as they called upon their ME.

    “Bring it on!” Leonhart challenge, a bright red aura surrounding him. He reached into his bag and pulled out the bo staff he’d taken from Black Sun, extending the ends and twirling it as the agents approached. One who was emanating purple energy ran at him with his arms wide but Leonhart ducked through his legs, sliding on the slick floor. He punched him on the back of the knee as he went through, making him buckle and fall.

    He came up from the floor just as another agent came at him, this one glowing sickly yellow, and swung up with his staff. It caught the man in black right under the chin. Leonhart spun while he was stunned, bringing the other end of the staff into his temple. He fell just as the first agent got back to his feet, but Leonhart was ready. He kicked off the ground, jumping ten feet in the air with his staff raised and brought it down on top of the man’s head, rendering him unconscious.

    “Too easy!” he taunted as he landed. As soon as his feet touched the floor though he let out a sick cry. Bright flashes of light filled the room, flickering in time with the electrical currents suddenly scorching through the boy’s body. It lasted only a few seconds, but it was enough to drop Leonhart to his knees.

    “Setting off those sprinklers was a bad idea kid,” Agent Zimmer said as he approached. He’d removed his black jacket and tie, his white shirt clinging to his body.

    Leonhart looked up and could make out several scars through the now-see-through material. What caught his attention more though was the current of blue electricity covering the man’s body and hand.

    Agent Zimmer smirked as he bent down and touched the wet floor again, using the water as a conductor to zap Leonhart from a distance. He didn’t seem to care that his fellow agents were getting hurt as well. “How’s that brat?” he taunted, releasing more and more power.

    Leonhart cried out, writhing in pain. Not because of the electricity; Black Sun had done electrical experiments on him so many times that he barely noticed. It was the memories of those tests, of the pain when it had been fresh being dragged up from the depths of his mind that made him cry. Three years at the mercy of Black Sun, of people like Agent Zimmer.

    Steam was rose from his body. He was getting hot, causing the water on the floor around him to evaporate. Leonhart could feel his ME building and expanding but he couldn’t control it. The fear. The misery. The pain. Those were the things that would await him and the boys he was trying to save if they failed. And that thought replaced all of those feelings with something else; something much more powerful; something much more deadly.

    Rage.

    Leonhart knew the feeling building inside him. He hadn’t felt it in nearly nine months, not since the night he’d destroyed his Black Sun room. He’d been so fed up then that he couldn’t control himself, hadn’t wanted to control himself; just like now.

    He let out a feral cry, ready to let the rage consume him, when suddenly the pain was gone.

    “You little punk!” he heard Agent Zimmer. The electricity was gone, replaced by something cool and comforting.

    Opening his eyes, Leonhart could see a thin mist hanging in the room. The floor was completely frozen, as were his clothes. He shivered in them, listening to them crunch as he sat up and saw the source of the cold.

    Oliver stood over Agent Zimmer, who was clutching his hand on the floor. The limb looked blue, and was sparkling in the light.

    “Oliver?” Leonhart asked.

    “Hurry up! Go find my friends, I’ve got this,” Oliver said. Frigid energy surrounded his body while a ball of snow and ice spun just above his palm.

    ‘That’s right, water doesn’t conduct electricity well when it’s frozen,’ Leonhart remembered, realizing that the other boy was a better opponent for the agent.

    “You little punks!” Agent Zimmer roared. He threw his other hand out at the boys, releasing a shockwave of electricity.

    Oliver swung out with his own arms, creating a wall of snow and ice in front of himself that caught the shockwave, creating a thick screen of mist. “Go!” he shouted.

    Wincing, Leonhart got to his feet and took off toward the racks. He had to hurry; he could hear the sirens just down the road. He had less than a few minutes to get the others and get out. He was halfway down the aisle between the racks when the other three agents skidded into view.

    “Hey you! Stop!” One of them called as they ran at him.

    Leonhart was already pulling fiery ME toward his hands. He lowered into a crouch and brought the heels of his palms together, drawing them back. “Screw you guys! Crashing Fire Wave!” He thrust his hands forward, releasing the gathered energy as a red burst of concentrated flames that rushed down the aisle. Everything stored in the racks ignited as it traveled before crashing into the three agents and blowing them away.

    Leonhart dashed through the conflagration, not stopping to see if they had survived. He may very well have just become a murderer but he didn’t care. A familiar sense of focus had overtaken him. He was on a mission, and he had to see it through.

    At the end of the aisle were four rack locations that had been outfitted with bars and surrounded by stacks of pallets. A cot was set up in each cell, three of which had a boy Leonhart’s age sitting on them. All three of them looked up at once, fear and surprise clear on their faces. Their eyes were wild as they looked from Leonhart to the flames and back.

    “Who are you?” the closest one asked. He was a black boy with short hair and dark eyes, dressed in jeans and dirty Chicago Bulls tee shirt.

    “I’m with Oliver.”

    “Oliver?” all three boys exclaimed.

    “C’mon, we have to go.” He tried to bend the bars out of the way and stopped as a wave of nausea washed over him.

    “We can’t,” said an Asian boy with shoulder-length hair from the next cell. “That thing blocks our powers.” He pointed to a black box on the floor. Several wires ran in from it, some of which were connected to the bars. On the front were a few switches and gages, as well as a black rising sun symbol on a metal plate.

    Leonhart knelt next to the device and his eyes went wide in rage. It was a Sonic Oscillator; a device that vibrated at a specific frequency to emit ME-cancelling sound waves. By connecting it to the bars it was making them vibrate at the same frequency to increase its potency. It was a simple method for controlling Mythicals, but effective against inexperienced users like the boys. Leonhart knew this because he’d tested the first one; or rather, it had been tested on him. The sound waves resonated with one’s ME, causing feelings of dizziness, nausea, and throwing off equilibrium. The longer he sat near it the worse he felt.

    His nostrils flared as he glared at the sun symbol before letting out an obstreperous cry. He balled his fist and drove it into the machine with all the ME he could muster, panting as the effect faded. “There, now let’s go,” he said, getting shakily to his feet. He was still hurting from Agent Zimmer’s shocks; the Oscillator hadn’t helped his condition. He went to the boys and ripped their cages apart just as Oliver came sprinting down the aisle.

    “Oliver,” called the third freed boy; he was Caucasian with blue eyes and cropped blond hair with an ugly rat tail. He looked pale, green almost, as did the other two. No doubt from being exposed to the machine for so long. They’d have to endure it though.

    “Conner, Ben, Matt,” Oliver greeted them with relief, embracing the boys in a group hug.

    “Save it, we have to go,” Leonhart barked, holding his head. “Any sign of the research team?”

    Oliver scoffed. “They bailed when the fire alarm went off. We can’t go back that way though. Cops and fire department everywhere.”

    “Let’s find an exit,” Leonhart said, taking a right around the racks and darting down a wider aisle way.

    Oliver followed him without question. They’d gotten this far following Leonhart’s lead; he trusted they make it all the way if they kept following. “C’mon guys,” he called to his friends, who were hesitating.

    The three boys jumped at the command and followed, running passed a few more aisles of racks. Together with their saviors they reached the end. They were in the far back corner of the warehouse now. Only a concrete wall was separating them from the outside and freedom.

    “We’ll have to go around.” Leonhart started to his right.

    “No we don’t,” Oliver called, stopping him. He turned to his friends. “Ben, can you handle the wall?”

    The Asian boy nodded. “Already on it.”

    Leonhart watched as he walked to wall and placed his palm on the concrete surface.

    “Phase State,” the boy said. The wall seemed to ripple before turning slightly transparent. “Go!”

    Leonhart’s jaw dropped. “What’d you do?” he asked as they all walked through the wall as if it weren’t there.

    “I can make not solid. Kinda like Kitty Pryde,” Ben said proudly, returning the wall to normal before wobbling on his feet. Leonhart caught him before he fell. “Sorry; still kind weak.”

    “What do we do now?” the black boy, Conner, asked.

    “We have to get out of town,” Leonhart said, pulling Ben onto his back. “We need a car.”

    “Car? Out of town?” Matt, the rat tail boy, asked. “Are you crazy? We can’t!”

    “You guys are escaped Talents; MDMR will come after you,” Leonhart shouted. “Not to mention I just torched a building for you guys! Stay here if you want; we have to go.” He turned and started running across the parking lot.

    “We don’t have a choice Matt,” Oliver said solemnly, putting his hand on the boy’s shoulder.

    Matt brushed him off. “Why are we even listening to him? Who is that guy?”

    “I couldn’t have done this without him,” Oliver shot back. “Just trust me; he knows what he’s doing.” He didn’t wait for the boy to answer before taking off after Leonhart.

    Matt looked over at Conner imploringly.

    “Doesn’t look like we have much choice,” Conner said with a shrug. He tried to seem nonchalant, but couldn’t hide a tremor of fear that ran through him. He took off after the others, before his emotions could take over.

    Matt stood indecisively, looking between the burning building and the way his friends and the strange boy were retreating.

*****

    Leonhart had run to the parking lot two warehouses down before he finally stopped and set Ben down. He leaned back against the side of a van, trying to catch his breath. He could still see the orange light and smoke of their escape not too far away.

    “We have… to move…” he panted as Oliver and then Conner joined them. “Where’s rat tail?”

    They all looked at Conner who just shrugged, looking sullen.

    “Whatever, we don’t have time,” Leonhart said. He turned and tried the door of the van; it was unlocked. He pulled a flash light from his bag and slid in under the steering wheel. “Everyone get in.”

    “What are you doing?” Oliver asked.

    “Hotwiring it.”

    “You can do that? You can drive?”

    “I can do lots of things Ollie, now get in!”

    Oliver ran around the van and climbed into the passenger seat while Conner and Ben got in the back. A second later the vehicle came to life and Leonhart threw his bag in the back before taking the driver’s seat.

    “How will you reach the petals?” Oliver asked.

    Leonhart pressed one end of his bo staff into the gas, revving the engine in answer.

    “That doesn’t seem safe!”

    “Just trust me,” Leonhart grumbled, easing the van out of the parking spot. He kept the headlights off, not wanting to draw attention.

    They were just about out of the parking lot when Oliver yelled, “Bobby stop!”

    Leonhart retracted his staff, shifted it slightly to left, and extended it again in less than a second, slamming it into the brakes now. The van screeched to a stop inches away from Matt, who’d come running across the parking lot.

    “Get in if you’re coming,” Leonhart barked, though Matt was already halfway in the van when he said it. He didn’t even wait for the door to close before hitting the gas and gunning out of lot.

    The 54^th Street entrance was blocked by police cars and fire trucks but there was another going the other way. It led them a short way to 50^th, where they turned right. They’d loop back around to 54^th, take the off-ramp to I-77 and go from there.

    “Are we really leaving Bobby?” Oliver asked as they hit the highway.

    Leonhart sighed. “Before anything else, let’s get the name thing straight. My name’s not Bobby; that was a fake name to hide me from getting messed up in stuff like… this.” He could tell the other boys felt guilty when he said that and felt a twinge of satisfaction. “My name’s Leonhart. And yes, we’re leaving. I told you, you can’t stay here; they’ll just come after you.”

    “Where will we go then?” Matt asked petulantly from the back.

    Leonhart gripped the steering wheel tightly, annoyed by the boy’s attitude. “We’ll head to the UP, maybe toward Wisconsin.”

    “What about money? Food? A place to live?”

    “It’s okay guys,” Oliver said. “Bobby… I mean… Leonhart’s loaded.”

    “That money won’t last forever,” Leonhart barked. “It’ll do for now, but we’ll need to figure out something.”

    “Can we ever go home?” Conner asked, his voice still sounding forlorn.

    A melancholy atmosphere fell over the car.

    “Eventually,” Leonhart answered, feeling a wave of hope swell in the boys. “Don’t get too excited. First you we have to wait for MDMR to give up looking for you in the area. And second, you all need to learn to control your powers, and about the rules of the Mythical World.”

    “The what?” Ben asked.

    Leonhart growled. His head was pounding. His body ached. Even his vision was a little blurry from exhaustion. He needed to concentrate on the road; and on not getting pulled over.

    “Let’s let Leo focus guys,” Oliver suggested.

    “Don’t call me Leo,” Leonhart barked, tearing pricking at his eyes. “I always have to leave the people that call me Leo.” Their faces ran through his head: his parents, Brad, Mort, Charles, Miss ‘Cilla, Lena; now Gia and Phil’s joined them. He scraped his forearm across his face, wiping the tears away.

    “Your cousin?” Oliver guessed.

    Leonhart’s jaw clenched as he nodded. The tightness in his chest had nothing to do with his physical pain or exhaustion. It was all centered on the note he’d left on the desk in his room.

***** 

    Gia had cried herself to sleep in Phil’s arms that night. Even unconscious, fresh tears were dripping from her closed eyes. She’d suspected something was up the moment she’d seen Leonhart that day. The boy’s had been frantic, just like when she’d discovered his money and documents. Something had happened; something to do with whatever drove him from Georgia. She’d had a feeling as he left with his new “friend” Oliver that it would be the last time she’d ever see him walk out her door.

    In her hand was the crumpled remains of the note she’d found in Leonhart’s room.

Gia,
    Thank you for everything you and Phil have done for me. I can’t tell you how grateful I am to the both of you, or how much I love you.
    I’m going away for a while. I don’t know how long; I may never be able to come back at all. I’m sorry I stayed so long. I never should’ve put you guys in that kind of danger. Sorry.
    I don’t know, maybe, even if things do blow over, I’ll still stay away from you guys. It’s better for you that way. But, if I do ever see you again I’ll do whatever I can to repay you guys. Take care of each other. You and Phil seem right for each other. I hope one day I can have what you two have.
    I love you both SO MUCH. Thank you for everything you’ve done for me. Take care of yourselves.
~Leonhart, AKA Weasel Brat