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The jeep carrying the two men veered off course when Allen finished talking. An observer could have seen a slight increase in speed, suggesting that the driver did indeed know the apartments Allen had named. Inside the car, The Mastermind replied to Allen’s latest question: “So then if I'm more than just hired muscle to you what exactly does that mean?”

“You are a partner, Allen. I have formulated a plan for the two of us based off of the fact that the police think that you are the Mastermind… that you are me. You will be a decoy in my next objective. Your safety is guaranteed. I have carried out these missions before. After it is done, I can make it very clear publically that you were acting under pressure from me – that you did not have a choice in posing as me. You will walk away with police sympathy, free from association with crime - and probably a considerable sum granted to you from the town, because they made a mistake in judging you. It is not a question of what you are to me, Allen – but what we are to each other. We can both have what we want here… and I know that what you want is a clean slate in the eyes of the law. That’s why you kept yourself locked up in that jail cell. You were perfectly able to escape, but you knew better than to try and take on the whole police force and make yourself a public enemy.”

The Mastermind paused to let Allen absorb this before he continued. “That said, I know that you understand the need to avoid suspicion, as you mentioned in context with your employer. I share that sentiment, and so you must not tell anyone of our encounter. Can you promise me that?”

Roland picked up the pace... he was almost there. The paranoia began to get to him, and he was compelled to look over his shoulder. He saw the car again... he couldn't tell how fast it was going, but it did seem to be following him. He began to run out of breath, but he pushed through it. He didn't need to breathe, he just needed to get away... he really hoped the person in the car didn't see him.

Exit>>>

<< Previously

The car was truly a brute to navigate through the city. Honking the horn and pushing the car its absolute limits "Kevin" flung the wheel to the right and the car's suspension groaned as it took the corner, The rear corner was low enough that it touched the ground and caused a shower of sparks to fly up. He looked in his rear view mirror and noticed no one was chasing him yet. He frowned at this but continued to speed through the town.

"There you are," He said with a grin. He pulled the second grenade from his belt and rolled the window down. Tossing it out the window as though it were trash he quickly opened the glove box too and grabbed the hand gun stored in there. This was a special version of the Beretta .45 that had been fitted to shoot explosive rounds. If that didn't work he had his trusty boom stick: a standard issue M4 pump action shotgun. Checking to make sure both guns were loaded he nearly rammed the boat of a car into a woman in front of him. Swerving around her he sped up and made put his blinker on to turn left.

When he saw the knives thrown at his car he swerved to avoid them blowing his tires. This was only 50% effective since one knife did indeed miss the tire and stuck in the body of the car but the second knife still hit its target causing the tire to blow and the wheel to jerk heavily to the left. He knew there was a warehouse nearby where he could hide ditch the car. Jamming his foot on the accelerator the car bounced up and down on the flat tire as he moved at a weaker pace towards his destination. Taking the pistol he rolled the window down and fired four rounds at Sentinel. With that he pulled off the main street and towards the docks.

Previous

Violet was about to overflow.

It wasn't the sort of thing that had come about suddenly. She was like a cup that had been left under a leaky faucet. Slowly, drip by nearly imperceptible drip, she had been filled, so gradually that no one, not even Violet, had noticed. And now, she felt as though she needed someone to tip her and dump the contents of her brain out, to set her aright.

Jason Malloy was the only man who knew how to install a drain into Violet's consciousness. Jason Malloy was also the man Violet had run away from, sending her wandering aimlessly through streets that created nothing but intangible, dirty blurs in her mind.

Not that Violet remembered where she had come from or where she had set out to go. She could not even perceive where she was now. There were sounds around her, humming cars and barking dogs that turned into circus clown horns and lemonade tiger growls. The faces of those she met hid behind cricket masks and oil-slick-colored clouds.

A bump against a shoulder. Violet is standing upon a stage in a blue gown, the scene before her nothing but blinding fluorescent lights and the flesh-colored blurs of an audience looking on. She is so nervous she feels she might vomit. A man calls her name and her breast swells with fear and pride. She is so proud as she takes those few cautious steps, praying she won't fall, searching desperately for those two beaming faces in the audience...

Violet feels a sharp pain in her knee, and when her focus returns to the world of the present she is staring at gray pavement, her hands the only things holding her face from it. A woman touches Violet's back, asking the girl if she feels alright, imploring Violet to tell her where her parents are, to give her a number she can call. Violet bristles.

"Turn it off!" she screams, her mind like a photo album being feverishly flipped through, photos being torn, thrown aside, and replaced. "Please, open it! Open it and let the clouds out..."

Violet is running. Tears flow from her eyes and fly behind her. She doesn't know where she is going. She doesn't know where she's been. She doesn't even know exactly whose shoes she's running in. But she knows they aren't hers.

It was just a normal night for the college-fresh Daniel Gordon. Walking on the sidewalk, one headphone from his iPod in his ear while the other dangled about his chest, each step he took making the ear bud sway like a hypnotist's watch. The summer night air was cool and refreshing, good for his sinuses. Although, the silence bored him to such a point that he risked getting mugged for his iPod. Of course, he wasn't that defenseless as one would think; with enough concentration, Daniel could stop a bullet. Thankfully he'd never had to put that theory to the test. Yet.

The jeep zoomed by at such speed it made Daniel jolt and gasp with surprise. Bunch of drunkards, to be sure. Daniel would have grumbled to himself and let it go if the teens weren't heading straight for an intersection. In hindsight, Daniel could have merely stopped the car telekinetically or at least slowed it down, but everything happened so fast it was hard to think. The adrenaline levels in Daniel's bloodstream skyrocketed when he saw the much smaller car head for the intersection, going straight because she had the green light. The intoxicated men in the jeep didn't notice until it was too late.

Metal crashing against metal screeched through the night air so loud it made Daniel want to place his hands to his ears. But he was frozen. You always hear about car crashes on the news and TV, but rarely do you ever witness one as horrific as this. The jeep, its driver having nearly zero reaction time, had turned the wheel to the left as hard as he could. The resulting impact caused the smaller vehicle to move over at least twenty feet, knocking the hard-working pregnant mother unconscious. And there wasn't another soul in sight to help.

Finally snapping out of his trance, Daniel sprinted forward, pocketing his iPod and nearly leaping over to the cars. The men in the jeep stepped out, stepping out and shaking their heads. Daniel hesitated at first, not sure if making contact was a safe bet. Although, he didn't get a chance to; the men merely took a look at the scene, looked at each other, and ran in the opposite direction. Cowards... Daniel thought as he watched them run away. Turning back to the other vehicle, Daniel walked over to it cautiously. Taking a look inside, he could see the woman, who was luckily wearing a seat belt, and no one else. Thank God. Daniel had the nervous notion that kids would be in the car.

Daniel placed his hand on the door handle, pressed in the button, pulled... and nothing. The door was jammed in shut from the impact. Great... the sarcastic thought ran through the young man's mind as the thought of another way inside. The back door had the same issue, and smashing any of the windows would make matters worse. Why not tear the door off? A small voice in the back of his mind asked. Yeah... but... Daniel struggled with himself. To rip the door off via telekinesis, he might smack himself with it; like trying to open a jar of pickles with so much force the top comes flying off. So, gripping the door handle once more, Daniel extended his telekinetic reach out to the door, and in one clean pull it wrenched off. Tossing it aside like it was a piece of cardboard, Daniel reached across the woman and undid her seat belt. Pulling her out, that was when she saw the bump in her abdomen. He didn't know she was pregnant.

Should he call 9-1-1? No... the ambulance wouldn't get here fast enough. Daniel looked around in panic. "Can anyone help?" he screamed out into the night. "Anyone? Please? HELP!"

Daniel looked over at the guy who had just ran over. He was about to say something, but all that came out was, "Uh..." The kid had a shirt wrapped around his face after all! What in the heck do you say to that? This most be some kind of homeless, crazy teenager going nuts over what had happened, Daniel assumed. Although, maybe the kid could call for help. Homeless people didn't have cell phones, right? Upon further examination of the teen, Daniel summed up that he wasn't homeless or crazy, but possibly intoxicated. Who else would wrap something around their head like that?

"Look... can you... uh... call 9-1-1 or something?" Daniel didn't feel like letting go of the unconscious pregnant woman in his arms in order to reach into his pocket. He desperately looked around. Typical. He calls out for help, and some weirdo with a shirt wrapped around his noggin shows up. Just an average day, he guessed. Next Daniel looked into the sky. Could he do it? He might have to; the woman, and her bun in the oven, might not much time. Daniel looked back over at the kid to see if he was calling the number.