Previously in Flip #5 : 'The Trouble With Moving On'...

The boys and Dylan landed in a dark MacArthur Park by the water’s edge. Dylan staggered back once Pan released him, longing for the return to solid ground.

“I knew you were special earlier kiddo, but that was something else!”

“We were lucky back there,” Pan said to Dylan.

Was this kid their leader? Dylan wondered.

--

“I had a sense when I saw you earlier. I didn’t know what, but I knew something was going to happen,” the boy explained.

“And what, you just fly around, getting these premonitions?”

“That’s just the start of it.” Pan quipped. Dylan eyed the boys up suspiciously.

--

“You’re going to have to be careful now though, boys. They’ll have seen what you can do. Do you have parents that know what’s going on? How old are you?”

“Don’t worry about us. We may look young, but we can look after ourselves. It’s you I’m worrying about. Not being in The Collective anymore has made you more of an easier target,” warned Pan.

--

“I think it’s for the best if you reconsider your situation. But look, we’ve gotta go now, Dylan. Be seeing you around I’m sure. We should talk about Clestin!” he winked.

“Wait! I still have questions!”

“All in good time, all in good time.” And with that, the eight boys took a running jump and leapt up into the sky, flying off into the warm LA night sky.

***

Pan and his gang swooped into land in the park near their house and regathered themselves.

“Are we all ok?” Pan asked before all the boys had landed.

“Shit, that escalated quickly,” said one of the boys, named Chai Son.

“I didn’t think we would be going up against The Purists,” admitted Pan.

They all started to walk across the baseball diamond and towards the park exit. Looking at them now, there was nothing unusual about the group of teenage relations walking together, except for it being nearly midnight on a Saturday.

“We need to be more careful. Maybe lay low for a bit?” suggested another of the boys, called Gan.

“Will Flip be ok out there?” Tanawat, the shortest of the boys wondered.

“I think so. We got him out of there in good time, and he actually has The Collective he can call upon. So yeah, I think he’ll be ok,” reasoned fourteen year old Sud.

They got to the park fence and they all flew over it onto the sidewalk on the other side.

“Just think though Pan, he could’ve been taken or killed if you hadn’t have been at your gymnastics competition,” mused the chunky built Aat, the youngest of the seven in Pan’s group. They crossed the junction and headed down their street back home.

Later that night, once all the boys were asleep, Pan lay awake thinking about earlier that night, and how lucky they were to have gotten Dylan in time and also how lucky him and his cousins were to get away from The Purists. There was seconds to spare, but Gan was right, they ought to lay low for a bit. He wasn’t ready to lose their anonymity just yet.

***

Mornings before school were really busy in the house and if someone wasn’t up early enough then they ran the risk of the milk running out or there being no space left to manoeuvre in the bathroom.

“We’ll meet you outside! Hurry!” Chai Son shouted to Sud, who on this occasion was the last one to get ready.

The waiting boys readied their bikes and boards out on the front lawn. Moments later, Sud came running out of the front door, backpack on and his tripod ready for A/V Club that afternoon, sticking out of it. He grabbed his bike and joined the others.

“I’d have been on time if someone hadn’t used my towel,” he grumbled as they rode out onto the residential road.

“Sorry, I’d forgotten to take mine in with me, so instead used yours!” laughed Narong, one of his younger brothers.

They pushed on, crossing intersections and hopping onto sidewalks to avoid slow moving traffic, but it wasn’t long before Pan’s danger intuition began to kick in. He scanned the area as they rode into a park.

“Guys, I’m getting a feeling,” he announced. “Follow me for a bit.” He pushed ahead to the front of the pack and led the group to the centre of the park.

“What’s up Pan?” asked Sud. “What do you sense?”

“Those SUVs. Has anyone been noticing them?” he asked gently nodding behind him.

“I can’t say I have. Sorry Pan,” admitted Lek. The others nodded in agreement.

“In the last couple of months since what happened with Dylan, I feel like I’ve seen one everywhere I go, just there following, or waiting. But today, my feeling is a lot stronger. I can’t ignore it or brush it off as coincidence anymore.”

“Do you think The Purists have tracked us down?” Narong asked nervously.

“It’s likely,” admitted Pan, shrugging his shoulders.

“What do you want to do?” asked Gan, spying the SUV and readying himself for some aggression. “We can face them head on!”

Pan looked at Gan thoughtfully, playing that idea out.

“We could lead them somewhere isolated,” Aat suggested, filling in some of the plan.

“What, and then ask them nicely why they have been following us?” Tanawat sarcastically asked.

“No, but I like the idea of ambushing them,” Pan agreed.

“And we get out of them what they want!” Lek enthusiastically added.

“Are you sure it’ll work?” Sud started. “I mean, we risk showing our hands the moment we start leading them off. At worst, they just have suspicions of us being those kids at Dylan’s hotel. We can assume they know where we live and if this plays out with us confronting them or fighting them then we risk exposing ourselves and putting Mom at risk.” Pan looked thoughtfully at Sud.

“But guys, they could be waiting to strike at any minute. If we don’t do anything, then we risk being on the back foot when they do come for us,” argued Narong, living up to the meaning of his name- ‘Ready for war’. He continued, “Let’s strike while we’re ahead- either way, our days of anonymity are numbered.”

Pan winced at that realisation. The thirteen year old was right. “I just thought I could keep us quiet for longer,” he admitted.

“We know man, but if this is our time, it’s our time,” reassured Chai Son.

“Ok, so here’s the plan,” Pan declared, pulling the boys in close and checking the SUV was still where it was.

It didn’t take them long to head to the staging area for their plan. They remained together, as if nothing was any different, taking a diversion towards Ballona Creek. They boys knew the area well having lived in West Adams for a few years and so they knew the perfect spot.

“When we get around the corner, you guys peel off,” Pan reminded Gan, Sud and Aat as they approached an industrial area just off the creek.

“They’re still behind us!” Tanawat advised, using the mirrors on his handle bar to subtly check. They took the turning, and Pan hoped they would follow.

“Go! Now!” Pan shouted, and whilst the main group carried on, the three who had a different objective peeled off down a side alley. The main group slowed down and Pan reassessed their plan. On cue, the SUV followed, knowing that they would have lost them if they didn’t.

Chai Son got off his bike to pretend to look in his rucksack, which caused the vehicle to slow down. The SUV came to a stop, having no other way to go except to reverse or continue.

“Just a bit longer Chai Son,” Pan whispered, keeping the façade up that they were frustrated at their delay getting to school.

From the corner of his eye, he could see that the SUV was now in a position between the two groups of the boys.

“I think we do it now, Pan,” Narong whispered. “Before they back out.”

“I’ve pressed send,” Chai Son said, announcing that the message he had sent from inside his rucksack to Gan had gone. The two blue ticks indicated they had seen the signal. He nodded the confirmation.

“Let’s do this,” commanded Pan. Gan, Sud and Aat came out from their hiding place and were approaching the truck from behind, boxing them in. The passenger door opened and a man in a blue polo top and sunglasses leaned out.

“Get out of the way!” he shouted, waving his arm. Gan came up behind him, pulled him out of the truck and onto his back on the ground. Aat was still hidden, slicing the rear tyres of the vehicle.

“Oi! Get off!” the man yelled, taken aback by the ambush and show of force. His companion in the driver’s seat began to get out of the car but Sud and Chai Son sandwiched him and pushed him towards the ground in front of the car as he cursed aloud.

“Someone tell us now who you are!” Pan shouted.

No one answered and they struggled against the pins they were in on the floor. Pan nodded at Lek who started to rifle through the seats in the front, looking for clues.

Pan walked over to the man who was the driver, laid out in front of the bumper. He squatted down beside him.

“Who are you, and why have you been following us?” Again, they didn’t answer.

“Pan, here!” Lek interrupted, alerting Pan to something he found.

Pan looked over. It was a hand gun. Pan motioned for Lek to toss it to him, and after he checked the mag and the safety, he did. Pan took the safety off and squatted back down to face their mute friend.

“I’ll ask again,” said Pan, making a point of waving the gun around a bit. “Who are you and why are you following us?

The man had a slight terror in his eyes but because it was a twelve year old crouched over him, he wasn’t as concerned as he would have been if it was a burly guy.

But he was wrong to assume that this child was not capable of getting answers from him.

“I’m not going to tell you anything,” he snarled. His colleague defiantly cheered in agreement from his place on the ground beside the passenger side of the truck.

“So be it,” Pan said, getting up.

He fired the gun twice, once in each knee. The man screamed in pain whilst still being restrained. His friend shouted out and started swearing.

Blood poured from his wounds as he cried out. Pan walked over to the second guy who was doing his best to get up.

“I’ll ask you then,” said Pan standing over the guy.

“We’re just supposed to follow you,” he blabbed straight away.

“Whose orders are you following?”

“Our superior’s.”

“Who do you work for? Are you Purists?” The man hesitated, so Pan raised the gun towards his knee, which did the trick.

“Yes… we are. They think you may have helped Dylan Petersly escape his hotel room! Please, don’t shoot me!” Pan considered what to do next. The man with the shot knee caps had already passed out through the pain and had gone silent.

“What do they have on us?”

“Not much, just your movements. School, home. That sorta thing. We’ll say it wasn’t you though, that you’re just normal kids!” he begged.

“You’re lying,” accused Pan, and he shot him in just one knee.

After all, he did talk.

***

The gun landed with a splash in Ballona Creek, five miles down the river from their confrontation with the surveilling Purists.

“Right! Let’s continue!” Pan called out.

After finding out what they needed, they didn’t hang around much longer, taking the ride down Ballona Creek bike path, headed eventually for Santa Monica. It was there that they had arranged to meet his Aunt Belle.

No one said very much during the hour long ride. Pan knew his cousins will have been annoyed that he had shot the knees of those men, but they wouldn’t say anything about it. Plus there was potentially more pressing issues at hand.

Past Marina Del Ray and along Venice Beach, they arrived in Santa Monica and waited at the original Muscle Beach gym.

“She should be here by now,” Tanawat stressed, checking his watch.

“Just keep looking out, she’ll be here soon,” assured Lek. The boys spread out a bit, looking in different directions for signs of Belle.

“I still can’t get through,” announced Sud who had been trying to call her. He stuffed his phone back in his pocket. He kicked the sand and looked expectedly at Pan. He saw this but looked away, not wanting to engage them.

“Do a couple of us need to go and check home?” asked Chai Son.

“Five more minutes,” Pan instructed.

“Look Pan, our mom could be-”

“Over there!” cried out Narong, pointing towards the entrance ramp to the pier. Belle had spotted the boys and headed towards them.

“Mom! Are you ok?” asked Gan. She looked a bit frazzled and pre-occupied.

“What have you got yourselves into boys?” she asked.

“Some people have found out about us,” explained Narong.

Belle swore. “Purists?” she asked, fearing the worst. Pan nodded.

“We helped Dylan Petersly when they tried to a couple of months ago and they’ve been stalking us since then,” he explained.

“So why are we meeting here?” she asked. The boys looked at each other but it was Pan who continued to quickly explain what had happened earlier. He didn’t leave anything out and she rolled her eyes when he talked through the knee cap moments. She was used to his extreme actions by now but wished he thought things through a little better.

“So we’ve got to pack up and leave then?” she asked when he finished.

“We won’t have long. They could be at the house already,” warned Gan.

“Did you notice anything when you left home? Could you have been followed here?” Chai Son asked.

But Pan already knew the answer.

The convoy of four black SUVs that rolled up on Seaside Terrace gave it away. Pan spun around, his attention drawn skywards.

“I think this is it, boys,” he declared, watching as eight drones circled them. “Belle, get out of here!”

The SUVs emptied and the men fanned out in formation, advancing towards them. Some of them had tactical weapons drawn. Members of the public reacted to their presence and began clearing. Some got their phones out either to film what was going to happen, some calling the police.

Belle ran off along the beach. One of the drones went after her.

“I’ve got it!” yelled Tanawat and he leapt in the air after it.

“I'll find the operators!” Sud shouted and he flew up vertically to get a good view.

The other boys charged at The Purists, each one combining aerial assaults with a more grounded aggressive hand to hand combat. Once Tanawat had taken out Belle’s pursuing drone, he zig zagged around through the air, taking out the others.

From his vantage point high up, Sud spotted the drone operators on the pier. He swooped in on the group who were distracted by Tanawat’s destruction of their drones. He flew straight into the group like a torpedo, knocking most over like skittles.

“Striiiiike!” he cheered, as he came back up behind them.

Those who hadn’t been bowled out had ditched their drone controls and tried to engage him in a brawl. Sud managed to toss two over the pier into the sea. The others, he managed to fight, using his slight build to his advantage- dodging and ducking between delivering his own strikes and kicks.

Once The Purists had been put down and were no longer a threat, Sud made his way over to the others back on the beach, who were making light work of their assailants.

Bursts of gun fire erupted sporadically when those Purists with guns had a chance to do so but the boys were well out of their way.

Pan delivered the final blow to his foe, knocking him out with a force that took the man by surprise. By the time he hit the sand, he was already out cold.

“Boys, we need to go. Now!” shouted Pan, breathing a little heavier. He checked to see that everyone was together, before leading them in flight out of Santa Monica.

***

“What do we do now?” Chai Son asked.

He had come to Pan’s favourite spot with him, sat in an O of the Hollywood sign. Pan often came here to think things through, or just to get some space- it can be difficult when you’re with seven adolescents to get your own space and time. The view was always spectacular over Los Angeles, no matter what time of day it was.

Currently, it was dusk and the sun was low, casting the sky in a glorious orange blaze.

“I’m just thinking things through.”

“Do you think we should reach out to Dylan? See if he can return the favour?” The eldest asked.

“Yeah, I think we might have to,” Pan admitted gravely.

“You know, it’ll be ok Pan. Dylan can get us out of this sitch.”

“Yeaaah, I know,” he sighed.

“What’s up then?”

“I just blame myself for where we are now,” Pan admitted.

“Please don’t blame yourself. None of this is your fault. No one thinks that. None of my brothers. Mom, Belle, doesn’t. In fact she’s blaming herself.”

Pan cringed. If that was the case, he felt awful. “But I should be the one to lead you, guide you all. Protect you.”

“You have Pan. We back you all the way and we’re still alive.”

“But potentially homeless,” Pan argued.

“Then call Dylan. He owes us. He would’ve been dead if we hadn’t have turned up.”

“Yes, that’s right. I’ll-” Pan’s phone interrupted him. It was an unknown number. “Hello?... Ahh, hey Dylan. So you saw the news then?”