After a while, Bob stood up, stretching his back as he ruffled Alex's hair. "Alright, kiddo. I gotta go talk to Mr. Smith for a bit. You stay here, okay? Don't… I don't know, blow up the house or anything."
Alex sat up with a wicked grin spreading across his face. "No promises."
Bob groaned, putting a hand to his forehead. "Great. Just what I need—another mini Rick with a sense of humor." He shook his head, trying to hide a smirk.
Alex's grin widened, clearly amused by the comparison. "I'm nothing like Dad," he said, though the pride in his voice made it clear he was secretly pleased by the resemblance.
"Right. Sure you're not." Bob chuckled and started for the door, but then stopped and turned back around when Alex called after him.
"Hey, Bob," Alex said, his voice uncharacteristically soft.
Bob paused with his hand on the doorknob, glancing back at him. "Yeah, kiddo?"
Alex's eyes were serious now, his earlier mischief replaced by a more thoughtful expression. "You seem like a nice guy. Makes sense why you and Dad were friends."
Bob's chest tightened, an unexpected lump in his throat. He gave a tight smile, fighting the weight of the words. "Thanks, kiddo," he said, his voice a little hoarser than he intended. "We'll talk more later."
With that, Bob stepped out, closing the door behind him. The weight of Rick's trust pressed on his chest like a boulder. He had promised to protect Alex, but the truth was, Bob wasn't sure how much protection he could offer. Not with them hunting them.
When he reached the kitchen, Smith was waiting at the table, nursing a cup of coffee. The older man looked worn, his usual stoic mask cracked under the exhaustion of too many sleepless nights.
"How's the kid?" Smith asked, not bothering to look up.
Bob leaned against the counter, folding his arms. "Curious. Annoying. Exactly like his dad," he said with a small chuckle, but it was hollow. It didn't quite mask the weight that had settled over him since he walked in.
Smith finally looked up, his eyes shadowed with worry. "What's the plan, Jack? You can't expect me to just babysit him here forever."
Smith sighed, setting the coffee mug down with a soft clink. "The Order's already moving. They've got eyes everywhere. We need to get Alex out of here—somewhere safe, where they can't find him."
"And where's that?" Bob asked, his tone sharp, demanding more than just a vague answer.
Smith hesitated, the silence between them hanging thick with unspoken tension. Finally, he met Bob's gaze, his expression hardening. "There's a place. An old facility, off the grid. It's where we trained… people like you."
Bob stiffened, his eyes narrowing. "You mean a lab."
Smith's voice was quick, almost defensive. "It's not like that anymore. It's secure. Hidden. And it's the only place The Order won't be able to track him."
Bob clenched his fists, the tension coiling in his chest. He paced for a moment, the old scars from his past throbbing beneath his skin. "You're asking me to take him back to a place like that? After everything? After all people like me went through to get out of places like that?"
Smith's expression darkened. "I'm asking you to keep him alive, Bob. If you've got a better idea, I'm all ears."
The air between them crackled with the weight of their history, a bitter tension neither man could escape. Bob's jaw tightened as he glared at Smith, the anger simmering beneath his calm exterior. "Fine," he said finally, exhaling sharply, as though forcing the words through a gritted throat. "But if anything happens to him—if anyone even looks at him wrong—I'm holding you responsible."
Smith's eyes hardened, but his voice remained even. "Understood. We leave at dawn."
….
The night passed without rest. Bob didn't sleep. He sat on the couch in the living room, staring at the ceiling as his mind raced in circles. The letter from Rick sat heavy in his pocket, a constant reminder of the trust Rick had placed in him—trust that Bob wasn't sure he deserved. He kept thinking of Alex, of those innocent blue eyes that reminded him too much of Rick. It felt like the boy was holding onto a piece of his past—a past Bob had spent years running from.
The sound of a knock pulled Bob from his thoughts. He glanced at the clock. Dawn. It was time.
Smith's figure stood in the doorway, as unreadable as always. "Time to go."
Bob stood up, stretching his sore muscles. "Where's Alex?"
"Already in the car," Smith said, his voice tight. "He's… excited."
Bob raised an eyebrow. "Excited? That kid's got no idea where are we going.."
Smith didn't respond, turning and heading for the door. Bob followed, his unease growing with every step. Outside, the black SUV sat idling in the driveway, its tinted windows offering no clue to who or what was inside. Alex was in the backseat, staring out the window, his face pressed against the glass as he watched the trees sway in the cool morning breeze.
Bob climbed into the passenger seat, glancing back at Alex. The boy's energy seemed endless, even this early in the morning. "You ready for this, kid?"
Alex looked up at him, eyes bright. "I've never been on a road trip before. Are we gonna stop for snacks?"
Bob couldn't help but chuckle. "Yeah, kid. We'll stop for snacks."
As Smith started the engine, the SUV pulled away, leaving the safe house behind. The drive was silent for a while, the only sound the hum of the tires on the road. Alex eventually nodded off, his head resting against the window. Bob, however, couldn't shake the sense of unease that settled deep in his gut. His mind was still racing, torn between the promise he had made to Rick and the dread that lingered in the back of his mind.
After a few hours of tense silence, Smith broke it. "We're heading to the old Facility 17. It's been decommissioned for years, but it's still the most secure location we have."
Bob's jaw tightened at the mention of the place. "You mean the place where they experimented on kids like me? Where they turned us into weapons? Great."
Smith's grip on the steering wheel tightened, his knuckles white. "It's not like that anymore. It's just a safe house now."
"Safe house," Bob muttered, shaking his head. "You keep saying that, but it doesn't change what that place is. What it was."
Smith didn't respond, his eyes fixed on the road. Bob turned his gaze to the window, watching the landscape blur past. His thoughts turned dark, and the memories of the cold, sterile halls flooded his mind—testing rooms, the clink of needles, the isolation. He didn't want to go back there. But for Alex… for Rick… he would.
...
There were only 10 miles left when Bob felt it—someone was watching them.
He tensed, his senses sharpening. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, a familiar, unsettling feeling crawling across his skin.
"Jack, drive faster," Bob said, his voice low but urgent.
Smith shot him a glance, confusion flashing in his eyes. "What's wrong?"
"We've got company," Bob said, his eyes darting upward toward the sunroof. His pulse quickened. "Someone's above us. Drive. Faster."
Smith didn't hesitate. He slammed his foot down on the accelerator, the SUV lurching forward, the engine roaring to life. Alex, who had been dozing in the backseat, jerked awake, his eyes wide with confusion.
"What's going on? Why are we speeding?" he asked, his voice cracking with uncertainty.
"Stay down, kid," Bob snapped, his tone sharp. "And don't ask questions."
Alex's eyes went wide, but he obeyed, slumping low in his seat as Bob kept his gaze fixed on the sky above them. The feeling of being hunted—of being tracked—was one Bob knew all too well. His body tensed, every muscle coiled tight.
"Jack, we need to lose them," Bob said, his voice quiet but laced with urgency. "Now."
Smith didn't argue. The SUV shot forward, tires screeching against the pavement as the road ahead blurred. But Bob knew they couldn't outrun what was coming.
Smith's jaw tightened, his grip white-knuckled around the steering wheel. "I'm trying, but this isn't exactly a sports car."
Before Bob could respond, a shadow passed over the SUV, dark and swift. It moved so quickly that Alex's sharp eyes were the first to catch it. "What was that?!" he gasped, his voice a mix of awe and fear as he pointed out the window.
Bob didn't answer. His eyes snapped to the rearview mirror, his heart skipping a beat. In the distance, a figure descended from the sky with terrifying precision—a man in a sleek black suit, his face obscured by a helmet. The figure landed behind them with a heavy, almost thunderous thud, crouching low before launching himself forward. His speed was inhuman, too fast, too precise.
Bob's voice was low and menacing. "They're on us."
Smith's grip on the steering wheel tightened even more, his knuckles turning white. He glanced in the mirror, seeing the figure gaining on them, his eyes wide with disbelief. "What the hell are you talking about?"
"They're on us, Jack!" Bob growled. His gaze flicked back to the rearview mirror, his sharp eyes catching more figures emerging from the tree line, their movements synchronized and unnaturally fast. "We're not outrunning them. Get us off this road. Now. We'll jump, you'll be our decoy."
Smith's eyes flicked between the road ahead and the rearview mirror, his mind scrambling for an answer. "You're insane. You're going to jump out of a moving car with a kid?"
Bob's gaze snapped to Smith, his scarlet eyes burning with urgency and something darker, something raw. "You got a better idea?" His voice dropped to a near whisper. "We don't have time to argue. Just do it!"
Smith cursed under his breath but nodded reluctantly. His foot hit the gas harder, the engine roaring as the SUV sped up, kicking up dirt and debris in its wake. He couldn't help but mutter under his breath, "If you get him killed, I'll—"
"Yeah, yeah, you'll kill me... Like you can." Bob interrupted, his voice sharp. He turned to Alex, who was still crouched low in the backseat, his face pale with fear, his eyes wide and unsure. "Listen, kid. When I say 'go,' you grab my hand and don't let go. No matter what happens, you hold on. Got it?"
Alex nodded shakily, his voice a strained whisper. "Got it."
Bob met his gaze, his eyes steady despite the chaos closing in. There was no time for hesitation now. They didn't have the luxury of a second thought.
The SUV bounced and jolted as Smith navigated the rough terrain, the tires screeching as they bounced over the uneven path. The trees lining the road grew denser, pressing in on all sides, leaving them with fewer options for escape. Bob's body was a coiled spring, every muscle ready to spring into action.
"Slow down… now!" Bob barked.
Smith slammed on the brakes, the tires screeching as they slid through the loose dirt. Bob threw open the door before the vehicle had even fully stopped, grabbing Alex's hand and yanking him out of the car in one swift motion. The sudden momentum sent them tumbling into the underbrush, branches scratching at their skin and the ground uneven beneath them. Bob shielded Alex with his body, rolling them both into a small clearing, the air thick with the scent of wet earth and pine.
"Stay down," Bob whispered urgently, his voice low and tense. He crouched low, his senses stretched taut, his eyes scanning the trees, his heart hammering in his chest. The sound of the SUV's engine faded into the distance, leaving an eerie silence behind, broken only by the sound of Smith's tires roaring off into the distance. The figures chasing them, though, were closer—too close.
Alex peeked out from under Bob's arm, his breath shallow, his face as pale as chalk. "Are they gone?" he whispered, his voice barely audible.
Bob shook his head, his gaze never wavering. "Not yet."
His mind raced, his senses heightened. He could feel them—feel their presence like a cold shadow stalking them. There was no mistaking it: they were close. Too close. He clamped his hand tighter on Alex's shoulder, urging him to stay down.
The forest around them was eerily still. It felt wrong—unnatural—like they were being watched by something far more dangerous than just men with guns. Bob's pulse quickened as the air seemed to thicken, charged with the presence of something dangerous.
Then, the sound that made Bob's blood run cold—a twig snapped.
His head snapped to the left, his scarlet eyes glowing faintly in the dim light. From the edge of the clearing, a figure emerged, moving with unsettling precision—another man in a black suit, his face hidden behind a helmet, the same mechanical fluidity in his movements. His eyes locked onto Bob with eerie accuracy, as though he had been tracking them for miles.
The man's voice was cold, almost robotic, his tone devoid of any humanity. "Found you."
Before Bob could react, his instincts took over. He shoved Alex behind him, putting himself between the boy and the approaching danger. His muscles coiled, and in the next instant, he lunged forward with blinding speed. The man raised his arm, trying to block, but Bob was faster. He grabbed the man's wrist, twisting it with a sickening crack that echoed through the trees. The man let out a muffled grunt of pain, but his expression didn't shift.
He swung his free arm at Bob's head with terrifying speed, the blow catching Bob off guard. The punch grazed his ear, just enough to send a sharp sting through his skull. But Bob didn't give him the satisfaction of a direct hit. With a growl, he retaliated, his foot snapping out to kick the man's knee. There was a sickening crack as the man stumbled backward, but before Bob could press his advantage, two more figures appeared, flanking him on either side.
Bob's eyes darted from one to the other, assessing the situation. He didn't have the luxury of time. Alex needs to get out of here.
"Alex, run!" Bob shouted, his voice raw with desperation. "Get out of here!"
Alex froze, his eyes wide with panic. He glanced at Bob, then at the advancing figures, his legs trembling.
"But—" Alex started, but Bob cut him off.
"Now!" Bob roared, his voice sharp and commanding, a tone that left no room for argument.
With a final, fearful glance, Alex bolted, his small figure disappearing into the trees. Bob felt a pang of relief, but it was fleeting. The figures advanced, their movements synchronized and deadly. They were faster than anything Bob had encountered before, and he could feel the weight of the situation pressing down on him.
He clenched his fists, the blood pumping through his veins. The power inside him surged, raw and untamed, and he let it rise to the surface, his muscles tightening as his scarlet eyes flickered with the promise of violence.