Wes sat in the back of the car. He felt that he could turn into his flying carpet form


    and escape if he got the chance to get out of the car. The problem was goons sat on


    either side of him, with two more in the front. He could maybe deal with one, but not


    all four if he wanted to get out of the car.


    There was nothing stopping them from shooting him if he tried to do something to the


    driver.


    He decided to wait on his chance. Something would present itself. Maybe he could


    stall Delveccio somehow.


    The mobster still needed his books back. He couldn’t run a business, or collect debts,


    or make payments, without them. His business was paralyzed. Exposing the little he


    had with that one ledger might have caused outside forces to look at him, but he was


    still king of the castle. He could fight the authorities long enough to make witnesses


    and evidence disappear.


    That was what he planned to do with Wes after all. And no one would miss the


    reporter, or if they did, they wouldn’t be able to prove anything against Delveccio.


    He had hoped to get some kind of costume from the industrial place so he didn’t have


    to run around naked when he changed.


    He closed his eyes and waited for the trip to be done. He doubted they would spend


    the whole time in the car. Maybe they would give him a chance to escape on the way


    back to the city.


    Maybe he would get a chance once they reached the meeting point. All he needed was


    three seconds to press the buttons on his arm, and then a clear sky to fly through to


    make his escape.


    He would have to run after that.


    He would have liked to get his hands around Clancy’s throat. It was clear the editor


    had turned him in. He wanted to pay the man back for that.


    At least Corning had allowed him a chance to strike back at his oppressors. Maybe


    that would help clean up the city. He doubted it, but he didn’t want his effort to be for


    nothing.


    Wes watched the road pass along as the car headed north. He didn’t say anything. He


    knew that any talk would be refused. The mobsters would not let him go just because


    he was afraid of them.


    He watched for his chance but doubted he would be able to get clear in a neat way.


    He was being guarded too closely.


    He could maybe escape from a bathroom through a vent if he could get a few seconds.


    “We’re going to stop ahead,” said the mob leader, pointing at a roadside diner ahead


    on the side of the road. “Mike, go in and get us some food. Then we’re going to go


    to the bathroom one at a time. We give this guy something to eat and a chance to use


    the bathroom. Then we hit the road again. Walt, finish driving us to the house.”


    “Got it, Lou,” said Mike. He pulled off the road and picked a parking spot away from


    the building to keep their exposure to a minimum.


    “Don’t give us any problems, reporter,” said Lou. “The first time you think about


    crossing me, I will kill you and any witnesses to the deed. The boss wants you back


    alive, but I’m not going back to jail over this. Am I understood?”


    “You’ll kill me and anyone in your way if I do anything you don’t like,” said Wes.


    He counted four cars in the gravel lot. He didn’t want the mobsters just opening up


    on bystanders just because he decided to make a break and didn’t get away before he


    was killed.


    He could wait a little bit longer before he made his move. He still had time.


    “I’m glad we understand each other,” said Lou. He scanned the lot. “Two of us stay


    with him, one goes to the bathroom. Mike, you can go first since you are getting us


    the food.”


    “All right,” said Mike. He got out of the car, checked his wallet and headed inside the


    restaurant.


    Wes thought he could escape the bathroom easily. Did he want to have people used


    as hostages so he would come back? Was he ruthless enough to run and let Lou carry


    out his threat?


    He wasn’t that ruthless. He would rather wait until no one was around and then fight


    his way clear. That was best for himself and anyone who might see what happened


    when he became his carpet form.


    He hadn’t want to return to the city, but this might be the best way to get out from


    under so he didn’t have to hide from people wanting to kill him.


    If he could burn down Delveccio’s house on the way out, that would be something


    to smile about after all this.


    He wondered if his carpet form could burn. He decided that was something he could


    avoid testing.


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    The last thing he wanted to do was take to the air and leave behind trail of flame to


    show the gangsters which way he went, and that he might be hurt bad enough to be


    recaptured.


    Mike came back with bags of food and a cardboard tray for drinks. He handed that


    off to Walt before going back in and getting the rest. He came back a few minutes


    later. He distributed those bags out before sitting on the hood of his car and starting


    on his meal.


    Wes chewed on his food slowly. It wasn’t an impressive last meal, but you had to take


    what you could get. He sipped the cola through the provided straw. He wanted to


    break free, but the threat Lou had given seemed too easy to carry out with all of them


    watching him, and the surrounding parking lot.


    He would have a better chance when they got back on the road. He just needed to be


    ready to take advantage of an opening.


    He didn’t want to be stuck in Delveccio’s mansion while the mobster decided what


    needed to be done to get his ledgers back, and how much he had to be hurt to give a


    lesson to anyone else standing in his way.


    The first opening he got, he had to fly away before he could be shot, or a hostage


    could be taken.


    If he could hurt the goons holding while he did that, it would be a solace on his soul.


    They gathered up the collective trash and threw it in a metal drum of a trashcan at the


    edge of the lot. Everyone went to the bathroom. Then they got back in the car with


    Walt taking over for Mike for the last leg of their trip.


    Wes wanted to make a try at jumping out of the car, but he was between Lou and the


    other guy. Lou, at least, was keeping a close eye on him. If he tried anything, he could


    catch a bullet before he could transform and jump out of the window.


    He needed to be able to take them by surprise. He just didn’t see it happening before


    they got to where they wanted to take him.


    He realized he didn’t know how long it took him to transform. He had never


    measured it.


    Did he want to try, basing his action on an unknown?


    What happened if he couldn’t become the carpet fast enough to get out of the mess


    he was in?


    He forced himself to wait. As long as he wasn’t causing trouble, he still might be able


    to get away if they stopped again.


    All he needed was a moment’s distraction and his other body could hide almost


    anywhere until the time ran out.


    He closed his eyes. He thought that if Delveccio didn’t want his books back, he


    would already be dead and headed for a burial at sea. As long as he didn’t give them


    up, he could stay alive.


    He was still looking at a lot of pain when they started trying to make him talk.


    He had to get away from the goons before they reached the house, or wherever he was


    going to be tortured. Anything else meant he would be tortured and dead.


    He should have seen if there were other powers besides turning into a flying carpet.


    Those would have been useful in this situation.


    And the goons weren’t talking to him.


    That said they were saving their breaths for when they could really beat on him,


    instead of wasting time in the car.


    Why talk in transit, when you were going to have to talk in front of your very


    dangerous boss?


    Wes thought he could escape if he could force a door open. He just had to be ready


    to try to push a guy out with him when he went for it. He doubted he could do that.


    How strong was his other form in the first place? He had no idea. He had been too


    busy escaping and trying to turn things around, he had never thought to see what else


    he could do.


    But now he needed to know since he had a knife to his throat.


    He needed to escape before they finished the trip back north. Even with his carpet


    power, he doubted he would be able to escape a cell unless he got tricky.


    If he did escape, what was next? Delveccio had his goons drive down across the state


    to pick him up. How far could he run from someone with that kind of desperation to


    get even.


    Wes thought about it. He would rather run and see how far he could go, than get


    murdered because he did nothing.


    If he wrecked these guys while he was doing it, so much the better.


    He touched the tattoo on his wrist. He felt the buttons come to life. He pressed them


    down and expanded in the back seat, wrapping around the two in the front and


    slamming them together.


    Wes felt the car go out of control. He slammed the man on his left into the door while


    extending part of himself to catch the door handle. He yanked the handle as he pushed


    on his victim again. Both of them fell out of the car. The transformed reporter floated


    above the road as the mobster hit and rolled along the asphalt.


    The car hit the guardrail and scraped along in a shower of sparks. It came to a stop


    before going off the road and into a patch of grass and trees beyond.


    Wes floated away from the wreck. He needed to make as much time as he could


    before the gang got over their surprise and started shooting at the flying carpet


    heading away from them.


    Flight wasn’t that extraordinary among superhumans, but it was just the thing he


    needed at the moment.


    The problem after that became how did he keep avoiding the hunters looking for him


    and live a life without a way to make money.


    His next move had to be going to ground and getting away from Delveccio’s part of


    the state.


    And he needed enough money to keep his enemy from locating him within minutes


    of hearing about his daring escape and the sudden explosion of a blanket in the back


    of his kidnappers’ car.


    He thought for a moment and laughed. He would love to be there when they tried to


    explain how he had jammed open a door and vanished.


    He wasn’t going to turn around. Delveccio wanted his books back, and Wes’s head


    on a pike. It would be the next best thing to suicide to keep taunting him. It was better


    if he just vanished.


    He would be like any number of Richard Kimbles in the world, moving around and


    trying to escape the long arm of someone wanting to kill him.


    Wes landed out of sight of the wreck. He started walking. If he could hitch a ride, that


    would carry him east and out of the state towards Colorado. He would have to plan


    his next move after he found some place he could hide and regroup.


    He had to keep moving, let the power recharge, and fly when he needed to. And he


    would have to keep a lookout for more goons looking for him.


    Maybe one day he could head home, but it wouldn’t be any time soon as long as


    Delveccio was free.


    He wondered if he should turn around and see if he could rob Delveccio of some


    living money. He wondered if he could make the man madder than what he already


    was.


    Wes turned the thought over in his mind as he made his way east. It would be nice to


    figure out where some of the money came from and scoop up some for himself. It


    would make his fugitive witness status easier to deal with than just trying to eke out


    a living while constantly looking over his shoulder.


    Maybe that was something he should do.