"Say again?" Tobias asked.

Three ears leaned tentatively nearer the speaker, three pairs of eyes exchanged uncertain glances.

"Your disguise is compromised. I don't think they're certain yet, but they will be soon. They are on your trail, Doctor. I've been tracing HQ activity on my computer, and footage from your supposed death and the investigator's reports of the scene have been accessed a lot since yesterday."

Tobias flushed and pressed his glasses hard against his nose, the golden wire bridge indenting. He shuddered, heart dropping. "I... I don't understand."

Viola Mae snatched the phone from him. "Hi there, this is Spectre. Can you please explain what is going on? Who are you? How and where are you getting your information?"

The phone was silent.

Tobias moaned, unfurling the topmost curls on his head all the way to his chin. "You'll scare her off, Viola Mae."

"Who is she?"

"I don't know. I met her in jail." He reached for his cup, taking the lid off to peer at what was left. Greening, he pushed it away. "X-ray vision. She could see who I was through the mask."

He lifted the bottle, holding it up to the light of the television to squint through the glass. He wrinkled his nose.

"If you don't want to have to destroy this phone, don't say your names," Dizzy said sharply. Teddy stiffened. "You never know when they could tap into the line. It would be best to meet in person. We can shelter you for a few days, Doctor, but you'll need to bring your disguises. And everything. You can't stay at that house, because the investigators at HQ will have a warrant before you can say 'What are the chances'."

"Who's we?" Tobias pulled the phone back into his lap, passing the bottle to Teddy. "And why would I trust them?"

"Do you have much of a choice? It's just my mom, my sisters, and I. I know it sounds bad, but it's a good place to lie low for a while. Can we meet at Maple Ridge High, outside the fence of the sports field? There are no cameras there."

"I can't drive," Tobias answered dumbly.

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

Viola Mae smacked the back of his head and his glasses fell forward. He drove them back into place, gaping at her. She took the phone. Taking it off speaker, she started to speak to the strange young girl sternly. Tobias described it as using "her professional voice," which was strong as stone no matter the volume. I, personally, would describe it as a dagger voice; stabbing and to the point, and unafraid to wound. In my investigations, I have taken my share of the pointy end.

Teddy squeezed Tobias's shoulder and quietly stood. "Right," he whispered resolutely. He scooped the bottle and the cup into his grip and tapped Tobias's slipper with the toe of his indoor boots. "I'm going to get you some crackers and a big glass of water, and you're going to sober up. Sorry, buddy."

"Is there time for a nap?" Tobias meekly watched Teddy go. Without an answer, he tugged Viola Mae's baggy shirtsleeve. "Do we have to go? Can I rest for a moment?"

"No!" She swatted his hand away. She put the mouthpiece of the phone against her chest to keep their talking private and gave him a look that, again, in his words, told him that she would do anything to protect him. Focused, with a furrowed brow and pinched lips, but caring in the slight lifting of her dimples and the dilation of her pupils. "You need to get your things together. Get changed and put the mask on. I'll have Teddy open the safe, and you can have whatever cash we have to keep you going."

Tobias whimpered. "But—"

"No buts! Get moving!" The woman returned to the phone.

Whining, he nodded and rolled onto his knees. The bed sunk beneath his hands as he pushed himself up to his feet, or "foot and peg". Sweat was already swimming down his face, carrying his spectacles in its descent. The distance to his toes felt woozily long and prodding his glasses to safety felt like a much more strenuous mission than usual. He sat on the bed, head hanging.

Teddy's boots appeared in his eyeline, a blur of soft tan, and he looked up. The man sat beside him, reducing the bed's height another notch. Tobias took a moment to process the movement, his stomach stuck in his throat.

A cold glass of water was placed between his hands. Teddy wrapped Tobias's fingers carefully around the children's cup, through the handles on either side. He held the lid to himself.

Tobias tipped the water down his throat, gulping and gulping, and gave the cup back when it was emptied. He dried his face and chest with his fluffy red sleeve and muffled a burp. Reddening, he excused himself.

Teddy put a bowl of crackers in his lap, and once he had moved one of Tobias's hands to hold onto it, he walked to closet. He opened it, scratched his head and left the room.

Tobias stuffed a cracker into his mouth, crumbs spraying like fireworks. Each crunch exploded in his ears, but each swallow made him feel a little better. He bit into a second cracker as Teddy reentered with a duffel bag in tow and watched dazedly as the pilot began to throw his neatly folded garments into the bag, taking his ordered ingredients and tossing them into a salad.

Tobias's chewing became slower and his eyelids gradually drooped, until he couldn't move his jaw any longer or fight the drag of his eyes. Sleep overcame him as soon as his lids pinched shut and he fell backwards, sinking into the covers, and into the blissful black.