thirty-five

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Oscar had to get out of Portland.

Not only was Atlas still combing through the city searching for him, but it rained way too much there. He couldn't use his abilities in the rain. If the Atlas agents caught him out in the rain, he was screwed.

So, he bought a bus ticket with the money he got off some lowlifes downtown. It was incredibly easy to get people to do what he wanted when he showed them he could conjure fire from his palms.

He didn't want to rob people, but he didn't have a choice. He had no money and needed to get out of the city. Atlas had forced his hand.

His destination was California. Los Angeles to be exact.

It was perfect. He could get there within the next day and the climate was perfect. Rarely any rain and there were beaches galore. Plus, there was a large Latino population so he would fit right in.

With a bag full of stolen clothes that didn't really fit him, he made his way through the crowded bus station. His transit was scheduled to leave at 8:00 PM—which was fifteen minutes from then. Not wanting to get spotted by anyone who might recognize him, he opted to show up for his bus as late as possible.

He had no doubt a few agents would be posted up within the station in search of him.

He was prepared, though. His ticket had been bought under a fake name—meaning they wouldn't find him amongst the list of passengers should they look. The only way they would find him was if they were checking everyone who got on a bus.

And that wasn't likely.

As he weaved his way through tourists and travelers, he pulled his hood tighter over his face. He picked out a few cameras tucked away in faraway corners. He couldn't be seen. He wouldn't let himself get caught. If worse came to worse, he would burn the entire station to the ground if he had to.

He wasn't a hero anymore. The time for morality was over. Survival was the only thing on his mind.

With one hand on his travel bag and another on the silver lighter in his pocket, he made his way to the benches around the area his bus would pick him up from. He stayed close enough to the crowd that any cameras wouldn't pick him up but far away enough so that no one would look at him.

Everyone now and then, someone would throw a glance his way. No one recognized him. At least, he hoped they didn't. He made sure to keep his head on a constant swivel as he looked out for any agents.

They're not gonna find me, he told himself. You're in the clear.

He repeated the words in his head while tapping his foot on the ground. His bus was set to arrive any minute now. Once he got on, he would be home free.

A frown twisted his lips.

He didn't have a home anymore. Or a family. They had been taken away from him. Ghost ripped them out of his grasp and threw it into the fire. No friends either. Once they found out what he did, they disowned him and left him for the wolves.

He was on his own. He couldn't depend on anyone except himself. Trust no one. That was the motto he went by now.

If he had any chance at surviving, he had to follow it.

Where is this damn bus?

His eyes were wide with a sense of restlessness. Glancing at the digital clock on a nearby info board, he realized his bus should have shown up already. Sweat beaded above his brow as he frantically looked around.

Had they found him? Had they stopped the bus from coming to lure him into a trap?

A million different thoughts bounced around his frantic mind. Mumbling under his breath, he kept looking around for Atlas agents. While he didn't see any, he began suspecting that anyone around him could have been his enemy. He tucked his bag closer to his body and removed his hand from his pocket.

Hidden Enemies | The Prime Archives #2 ✓Where stories live. Discover now