Logan laid still against the tree, breathing heavily. His heartrate thundered in his head and his body trembled, but he kept his head lulled lazily downwards while the police woman babbled in front that he'd be ok… he was feeling pretty far fuckin' from it, lady. Still, he needed to appear helpless and broken, nearly dead, or she might stay on guard. So, he leaned his head limply and acted as feeble as he could, internally smiling as she first checked Ronnie's breathing—he was still unconscious in the car— and then went back to her car to call for backup. Logan knew what part might come next, and he trembled in anticipation at the quick play he'd have to make. Was Shaun still watching? Was he creeping only inches away, ready for Logan to try something? He imagined that yes, the boy probably was, but he had to try it all the same. If he was quick enough about it, he might be able to make this work.

Logan faked a wheezing cough for noise cover. In that moment, he dropped the Protectionizer, which fell to the dirt between his feet with a soft thump. He moved a foot to cover it instantly, digging it down into the dirt with a twist left and right. He then listened intently. No charging invisible footsteps, no creeping in the grass… If Shaun was nearby, he either didn't seem to notice or hadn't made his move yet. Game time.

Logan wasn't able to pull himself free, because he was trapped between a rock and a hard place… well, a tree and a metal hunk of car. Neither would bend to him, and, with the Protectionizer, he couldn't bend either. But he remembered back to a summer in his youth, when he'd seen a bear trap sprung with a hunk of rotten, maggot-covered meat in it. Apparently, a coyote had gotten its leg caught in the thing. But, rather than dying in the trap, the clever beast had done what needed to be done… it had gnawed off its own leg, and limped away to freedom beyond. It was Logan's turn to do the same. The tree wouldn't give, and neither would the car… but he could. He wound up by shifting his torso back against the tree. He peered into the car and saw Nora fiddling with her radio, glancing downwards. He had his opportunity, and it was time to take it.

He lurched forwards and twisted as hard as he could, leveraging his bodyweight against his arm with every ounce of strength he could muster. He felt an eye-watering pop as he did so and wanted to scream out in pain… take control, he told himself. You're not helpless. You're not trapped. Do what needs to be done.

He tugged at the dislocated arm by twisting his body and felt immediate, searing pain, but he powered through it. He was able to move the thing at a wider angle than he'd previously been able to, bending it outwards in a way that would've required impossible shoulder movement. As he slid his arm forwards and outwards, the skin cut and scraped against the metal, but, instead of stopping against unbreakable skin, his arm was able to slide laterally as the metal bit in one centimeter—now two—as Logan worked it. Then, all at once, it was free. He felt Nora's gaze swing upwards, so he let his head swing limply to the side and closed his eyes. From her distance, she couldn't see much over the crumpled hood of the car, but she could still see his head. Once she looked back down, Logan began to shimmy his body outwards and upwards… metal scraped against bone along his hip. He wanted to scream out in pain, but he bit his tongue instead until it bled. He pulled his body up, blood lubricating his ascent, until his legs were free. And at that moment, he heard violent banging on the window to the police car in the driveway.

* * *

Nora was startled by a sudden series of furious knocks against her window. She looked up, expecting to see someone frantically fighting for her attention, but there was nobody there. It was at that moment that she noticed Logan Kessler was no longer pressed to the tree.

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She swung her door open and propelled herself out, eyes searching. She finally saw him standing up from the ground, as though he had been picking up some object from the floor. Was there some second weapon?

"Don't move!" she shouted, but Logan simply turned and ran towards the cover of the woods. She reflexively reached towards her holster before remembering that's right, no weapon, and then she was running in pursuit. The boy had had a generous head start, and though he was wounded, once the soft grass gave way to the rough roots and brush of the forest, neither could maintain the full-speed desperate sprint they had started with. As he bolted through the forest, Nora just barely maintained a visual on him as he darted between distant trees and vanished around towering rocks. In the distance, Nora saw the thick cover of trees suddenly end. The boy's run us right towards a cliff, she thought. As she drew nearer, both of them could now see the drop: it was a rocky ledge that gave way to a fall of about 35 feet, ending on twisting rocks and a large tree trunk lying along the cliff's base. Both could also see that the edge they were running along ended ahead in a sharp corner. Logan could try and turn away, but that would give Nora the chance to run on an intercepting diagonal. Much to her surprise, the boy stopped, looking down the cliff. He stepped towards its edge.

Nora closed the final distance between them and approached, arm outstretched. "Don't do anything stupid, now… fall onto those rocks wouldn't end well. Just come back to the car with me," she said, stepping forwards slowly. Logan balled his fist tight and muttered something unintelligible to himself.

He then stepped over the edge.

Nora screamed, surging forwards as her stomach twisted in knots. She scrambled to the edge and peered over, fully expecting to see a grisly red spill, the kind of sight she would immediately regret seeing, the kind of scene that would keep her up at night in a cold sweat. Instead, this week of endless inexplicable twists had yet another impossible surprise for her: the boy was running on his feet away from the base of the cliff, seemingly unharmed.

Nora looked left and she looked right, scanning for some kind of way down that wouldn't involve a massive detour or a fatal plunge. As was just her luck of late, there was none. Logan had somehow dropped down nearly 40 feet onto twisting rock, and was running away from the scene.

Am I losing my goddamn mind, or is this whole town?

* * *

The jump had been a leap of faith.

In all their testing of the devices, none had thought to assess whether the Protectionizer could help against injuries from falling. But there, against that cliff, he'd had two options. Option one was fight Nora. Having the protectionizer was a huge asset, but he had a lame arm and she could likely easily overpower his one good one, invincible or not. One pair of handcuffs later and it would have all been over. Option two was to take a leap of faith and see just how far the device's protection extended. It might have ended with him dashed against the rocks, dead as dirt. But it seemed his faith in the self had been rewarded, and he savored the taste of that freedom as he ran.

Oh, how he ran. His ears rang from the impossible jolt at the bottom of the fall; his arm screeched in pain with every twist of his body; his hip was scraped to the bone and it cried out in agony with every footfall, and, oh God, there were so many footfalls yet to go. But still, Logan ran, putting as much distance between himself and Parker's mother up on the cliff. A few uses of the Empathizer seemed to help with the pain as he withdrew the rage from his mind… it still hurt, but the anger had been bellows that further stoked the flames of pain. The relief was instant and it was palpable.

Only seconds after clearing his mind, he felt it bubbling back up like a wave of nausea. He moaned in impotent dread at what might come next. The game was up, the noose of the law closing in. They'd send folks to his house to arrest him, and he couldn't fight off the entire town's police force with one arm. They'd get their dogs sniffing through the woods and squeeze the air out of any hiding space like the rope around his neck until he was either dead or captured… and Logan didn't much like either of those options.

Dark was near to falling, and Logan couldn't fathom wandering blindly through the woods as wounded as he was. He found his general bearings and began to head towards his shack. Skinny and Parker both had known where it was located, but dead men tell no tales… no one else knew where his Fortress of Solitude stood. He figured he'd at least be safe for the night there. Come morning, he'd set off.