The man awoke with a start, his clothes laid damp against his skin as a cold sweat clung to his body. His breathing came in quick panting breaths while his eyes darted around the room.

They’d found him, traced his mad escape and were here for vengeance. How they’d done it he didn’t know, only that he had to fight. Pulling a knife from its sheath he rolled into a crouch readying himself for the coming attack. Possible counters and avenues of escape coming to his head before he even understood what he was facing, or who.

He lay there, still as a board, straining to hear anything. Yet only the sound of his breathing carried through the room. The space looked as it had when he went to sleep. Dust still covering the empty shelves on the far wall. A desk, long ago looted, stood untouched in the corner. Even the windows, with newspapers covering nearly every inch, were unchanged. Despite his desperate search for some sign of what’d awoken him, nothing came to the fore.

Knowing there was no hope of going back to sleep the man settled in to wait. Through the search and the minutes that followed nothing stirred. Not even a breeze caressed the brick walls. Nothing to hint at what woke him.

It took awhile, but an unavoidable conclusion came. It’d all been a dream. Well a nightmare, as everything in his dreams had become of late. The only hint that he was correct was the darkness still visible hanging through the newspaper covered windows.

He hadn’t gotten enough sleep. Not just tonight, but during the ones leading up to it. Even for someone in his field, the lack of rest was taking a toll. There was only so little sleep a person could have before something broke inside of them. The man feared he’d just found that limit in himself. Not that he could do anything about it. A reprieve from his daily nightmare wasn’t coming soon.

Despite the hour, the man crawled to his feet. The flicker of a grimace spreading over his lips. There was no reason to stay in his cot, he wasn’t going to be using it again. It’d taken hours to fall asleep the evening before and after his little scare he’d be even less likely to find sleep again. Might as well start the day early and get packed he decided. It wasn’t like he had anywhere specific to go, but the act itself put him at ease.

Most of his stuff was packed from the night before, so it took a short time to get everything else ready. His blanket and few choice belongings, all he’d grabbed in his frantic escape. Now he wished he’d been more prepared or brought more with him. The knowledge that his entire life had been pushed into a bag was hard to stomach. Yet it was his to carry.

When he’d gone back for supplies, he’d been afraid his pursuers were right behind him. Nipping at his heals as he raced to pack. Even now he didn’t know if that were true. It was obvious he had pursuers. Where they’d been and when was another matter entirely. All he knew for sure was the longer he stayed in one place, the closer his neck came to the guillotine.

So now, everything he’d left behind was lost to him. Maybe destroyed, but if he knew the DCP it was in a secure storage unit somewhere. People combing through every scrap, looking for hints at what he’d done and where he’d gone. Neither of which he’d been foolish enough to leave behind.

While he organized the few canned foods he had, only enough for another couple days, if he stretched them, he chastised himself. He should’ve set up safe houses, or a bug out bag. Anything to help him stay low if the heat picked up. In fact, he was one of the most capable people in the world at achieving those goals. Who else could go where he could, when he could? Yet he hadn’t. He’d thought he was untouchable. Teams could fall and Heroes fail, yet he’d be fine. Why make unnecessary plans when he had other things to do and no reason to worry?

Now he was paying for that mistake. As would the store he stole from next. With the cans in his bag secure, the man made one last check of the space. Making sure he had everything, while ensuring he didn’t leave behind any clues. At least nothing that would point to him. It was hard to hide the fact he’d spent the night here. The dust alone was a big enough tell of that. But it’d be easy enough to make it look like a random person and nothing more. Finding shelter in the only place with a roof.

The search was quick, and he found nothing that would require him to readjust his plans. Which meant there was only one last thing to do, the most important decision of the day. Where to next?

He’d already been all over the United States, spent a few nights in Canada, and even a day in Ireland. The latter two proved to be a mistake. He’d stumbled upon people in both cases and as soon as he opened his mouth they’d known he wasn’t a local. An American was easy to spot, the accent was something he’d never be able to hide. And as blending in was his goal, that simple issue wasn’t something he could allow to bring him in.

But he was getting off track. What mattered was moving, putting distance between himself and his pursuers. The destination was only a secondary concern. If that mattered at all for someone like him.

With his power, he didn’t get the uplifting feeling of a long run. The sore legs and heavy breaths were something he couldn’t emulate in what he did. Strangely, that left an almost visible hole in him. As if only through physical exertion could he find the safety he was searching for. His shortcut left him wanting. It was a stupid thought, but one that’d hung over him for the last few days. Growing each time he moved, the destination reached faster than otherwise possible yet not giving him any greater sense of safety.

He was doing it again, the man realized. Letting his mind wander. Before he could succumb to the numbness of a wandering mind, he had to decide where to go next. Distance, regardless of the means, was what was important. Only second to avoiding patterns. A certain someone’s little devices taught him how important that was. He’d be foolish not to heed that knowledge.

For the last few days he’d been staying in abandoned houses. Each in the middle of nowhere. One off a dirt road in the woods. Another, an old farm house surrounded by fields of weeds. He’d even found a winter hunting lodge at one point. While each provided clear advantages, they were also creating a pattern. Something that would make him predictable. It was something that had to change.

That left an obvious choice. A city was the opposite of the abandoned homes he’d been in so far. So that was where he’d go next. One far away from where he was raised and worked. Someplace he’d never visited. Doing that would sow a little confusion into his pursuers. If they could even find the place. No, he had to assume they could find everywhere he stayed. Without knowing how close they’d gotten, he could only assume they were hot on his heels.

Pulling a map out of his breast pocket, his customary suit gone, in its place an old thing he’d stolen from someone’s closet. The man’s eyes scanned across it until they fell on Columbus, Ohio. That’d been the name of a character in one of his favorite movies. And now it’d be his next stop. Without further ado, he vanished. One moment he was in the rundown room. The next he was in a thicket of trees a few miles away, a pool of liquid forming at his feet. His journey across the country having just begun.

If he’d been to Columbus before, he’d be able to make the trip in one jump. But as he hadn’t, he had to resort to shorter, line of sight jumps. It took longer, yet wasn’t debilitatingly slow. With each jump, he’d travel miles in a flash. That wasn’t something most people could relate to. There was no staring out the window, watching the world flash by during his trips. His trips, even if broken up by several jumps, went by in a flash.

Other people who’d gone through the jumps with him in the past described the process as jarring. As if the world was being drained away by his ability. Only to come back when the process ended. H-Bar, his former teammate, had even described the process as a mini black hole the first time, just before his breakfast spilled over the sidewalk. It’d been disgusting to see, yet a friendly way for him to exact some payback at the man’s annoying jokes. Mentioning the memory was enough to bring the other man down.

At first he’d wanted to see how other people saw the jumping process, yet knowing the consequences, he’d decided that wasn’t a great idea. It might be best to stick to his own view of the shift. Instantaneously finding himself at the new destination was nice.

The thought of his stupid former teammate sent a flash of red through the man. He’d warned them. Told them what would happen if they brought the brat in, only to be proven right and have the kid escape. Now everything was ruined. The team fragmented, all his work wasted away, he’d even sacrificed Blue Feather, his best friend for the team. He hated what they’d done, yet that feeling was insignificant in light of the torch of loathing he held towards Source. The kid would pay. The price was nothing less than his blood on the ground. The man only had to determine how to do it. Being on the run didn’t give him many opportunities to get revenge. But he knew he’d find the perfect one if he took his time.

Yet as he moved, he buried the feeling. There’d be time for that later. For now, he had a destination to reach.

A hundred jumps and a few minutes of travel, the man was standing in an unfamiliar alleyway. Across from it was a massive stadium. The largest he’d ever seen. College sports were taken seriously here, a younger him would’ve loved to see the place overflowing with more than 100,000 fans. Game day preparations covering the streets in all their grandor. But for now, that was only a dream. With the next game months away, the place was a ghost town. A few stray people walking by the stadium. None seemed to be marching towards it.

Turning away from the building, intent on finding somewhere safe to stay for the night, the man froze. There was a person at the far end of the alley. Squinting, he couldn’t get a good look at the figure. With the light shining behind the person, they were only a silhouette. Yet he could tell the person was looking this way.

Skip’s mind raced. Had this person seen him jump into the alley? If they had, wouldn’t they be running and screaming? Instead, the figure was standing there motionless. Maybe they were frozen in fear? He’d seen it happen with civilians before.

Knowing the person had seen him, Skip’s mind shifted to what came next. Should he run or end the threat? Either way, he wouldn’t be staying in Columbus tonight.

“You made me wait,” the man at the end of the alley said. The voice had an artificial flair to it. To a smaller extent, like the voice boxes people with throat cancer used.

Skip almost jumped at the words. Did the person know who he was, or was this the team chasing after him?

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. You have me confused with someone else.”

“No, I don’t think that’s the case.”

Well, there goes that idea, Skip lamented. Which meant he had to find a way to fight the man or run. He knew those were the two choices he should wrestle with, but something the man said had him hesitating. He’d picked this city at random. How did the man beat him here? No one could read the future, or other people’s minds. That’d been proven to be an impossible power. So how did the man get here first? Was there a way to track his jumps? Or did this person expect someone else to teleport here and Skip just happened to jump into the one alley in town someone was keeping a close tab on?

“What do you mean?” Skip asked. His voice was steady, like a tired farmhand. To the outside world, you had to be a rock even if your insides were in turmoil.

“You’re a person. It’s not trivial to see what moves you’ll take. With free will and people changing over time, they are terrible test subjects, but I can still model it.”

The man had created a model of him? What did that even mean? Was it some robot that would act like him?

Skip must be missing something. He’d come here at random. Curiosity got the best of him and he voiced those concerns.

“I came here at random. How could you know where I’d be?” Skip asked. He had to know what was going on if he wanted to stop it in the future.

“Nothing people do is random, there is always something that pulls you. Maybe you like the number three, or are a movie fan. Maybe it’s something as simple as a sport,” the artificial voice called back. Skip was sure he heard a hint of mockery in its tone.

“Just… who are you?”

“We could spend the day verbally jousting, but I’m pressed for time.”

Skip tensed, ready for the other person to attack. If this went bad, he’d book it out of here. No more cities for him. Maybe camping in the forest was his best bet for the next few weeks.

“Oh, quit acting like that. I’m here to recruit you, not fight.”

The statement caught Skip flat footed, yet he wouldn’t fall for it. His eyes darted around the space as he looked for someone sneaking up on him.

“Please don’t be offended if I don’t believe you,” Skip shot back.

“Yes, yes, you’re on the run from the Heroes. Do you think I wouldn’t know that? In fact, that’s why I want you on my team.”

“Most would frown at the attention I’m getting. I know I would if I was in your position,” Skip said. Even if he didn’t fully grasp what the other man was doing.

“My dear friend. In a few months everyone will be focusing on me. Remembering just what I am capable of, when I get upset. You being with me won’t even be on people’s radar.”

“Why would I want to join you then? I’m trying to stay hidden.”

The figure moved forward. Revealing features Skip had never seen on a person before. In his worst nightmares, this person would find a home.

“You drew the attention of my enemy. How could I not get involved with that? Now join me and I’ll give you the chance at the revenge you’re searching for.”

Skip wanted to leave, to run away. Yet the promise of the figure was there. And he believed the… man. Revenge was something he’d known was impossible, yet it had kept him going. Would he turn away from it now, when it was offered up to him? Even if it was by an unknown. This person had proven his abilities by simply being here. What else was he hiding?

With a quick swallow Skip nodded to the thing, then moved down the alley to whatever fate waited beyond.