The little boy jerked awake.

He turned over in his bed so he was facing away from the bleak and colorless wall, and found himself looking dazed into his father’s deep, unfathomable, amber eyes. His father’s lips were moving, he was saying the boy’s name, but he couldn’t hear it. His ears were filled with a low ringing. 

His father shook him by his shoulders. “You need to go!” He heard the words break through. 

The ringing disappeared and was replaced by the sounds of thunder, and the inexplicable noise of crumbling infrastructure. The boy gasped and sat upright, his hands clenching and unclenching anxiously. They were clammy with sudden break out of sweat. “Dad—”

His father shook his head, his light brown hair swishing gently. “No time, Sprite.” 

He realized his father’s whole body was tense and hunched as he watched the backpack floating in the air behind him. That was because of his Dad. It landed softly on the mattress as a pair of socks flew towards his. That was his Dad, too.

His father grabbed the socks from the air and hurriedly pulled them onto the boy’s feet, breathing hard through his nostrils, making them flare. “We have to be really fast, right, Hal?” His father smiled, the skin around his eyes crinkling, exhausted. 

The boy nodded, agreeing. “Really fast.” 

Hal jumped to his feet, wide awake, and slipped his tiny hand into his father’s bigger one which wrapped around his firmly. The protectiveness of it calmed him, forced his fear down.

He and his father can make it out together, he had to believe it. And they will run to his mother’s house together. 

               They were running down the corridor, his father pulling his young son faster than his small legs could go. A section of the roof crumpled and plummeted to the ground in front of them, stalling them. The boy screamed in surprise. 

His Dad scooped his small form into his arms and continued running, jumping over the fallen debris. The boy became hopeful. They were almost at the end of the hallway, they could make it. His Dad won’t get in trouble with the bad people and they can all go home.

“Stop!”

As if out of thin air, the boy watched as big men—bigger than him, bigger than his strong, brave Dad—surrounded them in an instant. His Dad skidded to a stop. The boy’s eyes widened in surprise when his father lowered him to the ground.

“Dad?”

“Dr. Aldane!” One of the men clad in black from head to toe yelled. “Do not move and hands in the air.” His father didn’t react to that, and instead looked at his frightened son.

“Dad, stop them,” the boy gasped out. “Can I stop them?”

Something broke behind his eyes. He shook his head softly and dropped to his knees with a soft sigh. “My darling little boy.” His voice was but a whisper. A sad, lonely whisper. 

It was one of his bad days, he saw it in his eyes. The days when he went mad and broke things and yelled and screamed and punched the walls. He hated his bad days. It made him scared. But Dad never hurt him, so he tried not to be scared.

 “My little Sprite,” he said again, ignoring the men who ordered him again, this time more urgently, to put his hands in the air. “Don’t ever use your gifts. Promise me.”

The boy nodded hastily. “I promise,” he said, as he always did, without missing a beat. “I promised a hundred times before.”

Dad looked at him sadly. “You must run, do you hear me? You must run really fast. Faster than you have ever run.”

He nodded slowly. Dad was being weird. Like these last few days. He’d repeat his words, he’d talk more than he’d usually do. He holds his little hands in his bigger ones longer.

“And you mustn’t look back, yeah? Never, ever look back.” He paused thoughtfully, his eyes a vast void. “I will make sure you don’t have to look back.” Tears sprang to his eyes as he spoke, and Hal slowly reached to wipe them away, despite the spike of fear in his own chest. He was confused. And despite that he knew what was going on, he couldn’t get rid of the confusion that clouded everything.

“Dr. Aldane, we have strict orders!” The man closest to them shouted. “Orders to detain you, and shoot you if you do not comply.”

Hal’s eyebrows furrowed at the words. He felt a tick in his fingers, as if spurred by his turbulent emotions. He almost used his abilities. His Dad smiled at him. “Run. Show them you are stronger than they think. Show them that they can never catch you—”

“Five!”

“Do you know how bad these people are?”

He nodded, tears stinging his eyes, and making his vision go blurry. His chest felt tight. He knew he wasn’t going to like what happens next. He knew he’ll hate it.

“They take little kids like you away from their mothers and fathers. Like they did with you. But I was lucky to be able to be with you.”

“Four!”

“So, Sprite, if you run fast enough, you can find your mom, and—”

“Three!”

“And you can avenge them. Us.” His father stood back up to his full height.

“Two—what? Doctor—”

Hal watched in numb horror as the men blocking their path were swept to the sides and pressed towards the walls as if by an invisible force. But it was only his Dad. He can do things with his mind.

“Doctor, please,” one of them pleaded, his face pressed painfully to the bleak wall, “Please come with us. Or we will—”

His father frowned. “Be forced to shoot me, yes, you mentioned.” He looked down at Hal and nodded towards the exit, his hand twitching, unbeknownst to him, at his side. “Go.”

He gasped inwardly, realizing what he was saying. “Daddy I can’t—”

“Help us redeem ourselves, Hal. Redeem yourself. And never forget, I love you.” His eyes were wide and pleading, afraid even. The tears fell freely down Hal’s face. His father’s face was turning red, he was getting mad. Angry. Scary. “Hal, go!” He screamed.

With a jolt, Hal realized he had to listen to him. He forced his feet to move. He forced them to pump hard. And his legs obeyed. 

He was running. Away.

Away from his Dad.

But that wasn’t right. Nothing about it was right. He was supposed to run with him, they were supposed to run together.

“Stop the boy!”

But the men in front of him can’t move. Instead, as if controlled by one mind, they crumpled to their knees, and their guns fell from their hands. They started screaming and writhing. They were screaming in pain, in agony, and clawed at their heads, trying to get their hats off.

But he kept running. He reached the end of the hallway. He mustn’t look back. He mustn’t ever look back. But the screaming had stopped. Instead there were footsteps. A lot of footsteps.

He looked back. He broke his first promise. And his legs faltered. 

The men in black he first saw, they were all on the ground, still and unmoving. Pools off blood slowly trickled around them. But now, hundreds of them, an army of them, were jogging from the other end of the corridor towards his father. They all had their guns raised, ready to shoot.

His father just looked at him. You promised me, Sprite. 

His eyes darted to the oncoming army. The bad people. He heard shots. Millions of them. His breath hitched.

His Dad’s face turned blank, his eyes frozen in regret. He fell to his knees and slumped to the ground. And he saw. He saw his back, seeping red. His white lab coat spotted with red blotches all over. A hundred rose blossoms.

He heard screaming. It couldn’t be from him but he felt as if his throat ripped open with the sound.

The walls burst. Green and brown, roots and branches, trees and vines. From the ceiling, from the ground, from every opening. They surged towards the army, dragging wet mud with them.

 His legs pumped faster than ever, towards his Dad. He broke the second promise. His chest heaved and hurt, and his heart tried to break through. 

But a strong hand wrapped around his midriff and yanked him back, high from the ground, and pulled him towards a man’s body. The man held him tight despite him fighting against him. He was running, away from his father. All the while Hal screamed and fought. All the while, the green and the brown mowed down rank after rank of the army.

               They were outside. Rain was falling hard, and thunder shook the skies and earth. The air smelled of wet soil. The man placed him down on the muddy ground.

“Run!” He yelled. For a second, his face was replaced with his father’s. 

Hal took a step forward. The man stopped him, grabbing his shoulders and roughly pushing him back. Hal looked at him numbly, his chest heaving, his eyes wide and unfocused.

“Hal, go. Don’t waste the chance your father got you with his life.”  

He didn’t wait to see if Hal obeyed him and ran back in. Hal watched as his floppy hair disappeared into the building. He knew he wouldn’t make it. And as if to prove his thoughts, the entrance collapsed. He didn’t react, only blinked slowly, the rain washing over him.

After a moment’s hesitation, he ran in the direction of the little hill that faced the base, away from the crumbling building. Away. Always away. he heard a low rumble. He knew it wasn’t the thunder. But he didn’t look back.