HERO

45 / The Watch

Thomas didn't say anything initially. He had known that Oscar had his own network of people to help him. He had also known, somewhere in the depths of his mind, that theft would probably have been a part of it. The liquids he'd taken would have had to come from somewhere and the Fixer was certainly not intelligent enough to create them himself.

To stay, Thomas would have to become one of them. He'd have to steal. Could he do that? Did his continued existence depend on turning to a life of crime? The thought made him shudder inside. Taking an extra cookie while his father wasn't looking was one thing. The potions he'd had or all the things Oscar was infamous for being able to supply was another. He didn't have powers. He wouldn't be able to defend himself if he were caught. He couldn't break into homes or offices. He couldn't levitate into high windows or make himself looks like a section of wall.

He was simply Thomas. A boy. Just a boy.

"But I can't do anything. What good am I to you?"

"Didn't those mixers do anything for you?"

"No, nothing."

"That's odd. You're odd Thomas."

"I am," Thomas said sadly. "But being odd doesn't help me fly or break things."

"Kiddo, don't kid yersen. You'll still be valuable to me."

Valuable? Was the Fixer going to hand him over to the Spotters? It would go a long way to ensuring his immunity to prosecution for his activities. Was that why he'd been taken in? So he could be used? For Oscar, it would be better than letting him get caught. Leverage would definitely be 'valuable'.

Oscar must have seen what Thomas was thinking from the look on his face. He laughed, a quick snort of humour that made him wipe his nose on the back of his hand and wipe the hand on his jeans.

"Don't panic, kiddo," he sniggered. "I ain't letting you go. You're safe here. Join the family, get what I ask, and you'll be ruling this town with the rest of us."

"And if I don't?" Thomas figured the answer to that would be to be pushed back through the disappearing door, and face whatever had been coming for him.

Oscar stared at him, as if surprised someone could even contemplate the possibility.

"Well... if you don't, you'll find yourself in a spot of bother, and we'll be parting ways."

"I thought so," Thomas said. "You'll hand me over, just like my dad."

"Well, not quite like him."

"What do you mean?"

"Think about it, kiddo. I can't 'ave you givin' 'em all my secrets."

"I guess."

"You guess right. So, we would have to take precautions."

"What sort of precautions?"

"We'd have to make sure you couldn't tell them anything."

Thomas noticed Oscar dropped letters in his speech erratically. It was as if they'd fall from his words, then he'd notice them piling up at his feet and pick them up again. He wondered if the man knew he was doing it. Was it a ruse to make him sound more educated than his appearance suggested, or exactly as much when the occasion demanded? Surrounded by his 'family', he didn't stick to one form or the other, maybe deliberately to keep everyone guessing, or perhaps just to keep in practice.

"How would you do that."

"We'd put you to sleep. We'd make sure you didn't wake up."

"You'd kill me?"