HERO

11 / Billy

Rather than run away to find a suitable hiding place, one where he could finally re-enter the world with his abilities intact, Thomas went to school. He doubted anyone would come to take him away forcibly if he was in class. They might wait all day for him and abduct him on the way home, but piling into school and dragging him away was not how they'd get him. They wouldn't want the publicity.

Granted, most of peers and teachers felt the same way about him as his father did –afraid, wary, some, perhaps jealous – but they wouldn't allow him to be hurt. Would they? They could see what was happening as the right thing to do. Thomas needed to be taken away. They'd watch him later on television, just to make sure he hadn't been hurt. That would satisfy their feelings of guilt. Then they could see him being shot or dismembered or attacked by the Wolves without his memory spoiling the show.

He often wondered why he still went to school. He was regularly set upon by other pupils and subjected to their 'pranks'. Just kids being kids, that was all. He'd been carried up to the top of the old flagpole and left hanging. He been held in place so securely he'd fractured his wrist whilst trying to break free. During that, particular ordeal, carried out by a pair of boys, His school trousers had been set alight while he was wearing them. One of the children, a Jacker in the making, had kept him still and the other, a Pyro, had started the fire.

Neither had developed their powers much further than their initial faltering steps with them, but they didn't need to. One was well strong enough to hold a ten year old and the other only needed to create a brief spark. Fire liked to consume and it could do so from the smallest infant flame.

Thomas had escaped with little injury and no tissue damage. He'd run into the nearest toilet block, stepped into the toilet bowl and flushed it. They still spoke about that a year later. They still smiled and pointed and pushed and tripped and punched.

Kids will be kids.

Thomas loved to learn, though. He told himself the bullying was part of school life. The tables had turned for the usual targets. Nerds were potentially more powerful than those who had made their lives a misery. School bullying had been reduced as a result, but there were still hot headed students who wanted to show and prove their supremacy. The entire school felt itself to be superior to Thomas.

After all. He'd be insane very soon. He had nothing in the way of powers. He'd be Spotted before long so there was no point in befriending him. His days were numbered. No one wanted their own reputations to be tainted by associating with him.

Yet, still he went and faced everything they threw at him. The days of hoping they'd get bored and move on to someone else were gone. It didn't matter how long he would be there for. During that time, he was the easiest target of all.

The school might offer some protection from them. The 'them' his father had called. It wouldn't be able to stop the other pupils aiming their attacks at him, but Thomas thought he could endure that if it delayed, or put a halt to, the Spotters. Besides, once he'd used Oscar's treasure, he could teach them all a lesson. Students and staff together.

He took a winding path to school each day, and the routes varied wildly. He wasn't overly concerned about being followed, but people could easily learn the habits of others. Groups of children and adults, similar to that which had taunted the boy the night before and paid the price, would take advantage of their advantages. He had been injured, chased and held captive on numerous occasions. His meanderings probably only delayed the inevitable. They certainly didn't stop it.

Still, he felt better taking different turns and twist, with some double backs thrown in. He had little to defend himself with. His mind, while he still had it, was his only real weapon.