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Garovel just laughed. ‘How’s the soreness, by the way?’

He groaned a little. ‘Incredibly painful... but... I’m starting to get used to it... I guess.’

‘It’ll probably get a lot worse after today.’

“Ugh...”

They both spotted a police car exiting the station’s side garage, a uniformed officer in the driver’s seat.

‘There he is,’ said Garovel, clutching Hector’s shoulder. ‘Get ready. I’ll follow him and give you directions. When I tell you, start running as fast as you can.’

Hector felt a blaze of vigor run through him. The soreness vanished, and he breathed deep. “Whoa...!” He could feel his muscles pulsing, his blood rushing, and a surge of so much energy that he thought he might go insane if he didn’t expel it.

‘You might not need it, but put your mask on just in case. And make sure you don’t run into anyone. That’s more important than catching up to us.’

He slid the welding mask over his face. He had to pull up the small, black visor in order to see at all. The rectangular slit of glass bore a few scratches but not enough to obstruct his vision.

The police car was pulling away. Garovel flew after it, and Hector waited. They fell out of sight, and he kept waiting. Passersby gave him uncomfortable looks as he stood there in his mask, trembling with anticipation.

‘Move straight ahead five blocks and turn right. Tell me when you’ve reached it.’

Hector bolted forward. His legs bounded over the pavement with more force than he expected, but he could tell that he wasn’t even breaching his potential yet. He broadly weaved between pedestrians, still picking up momentum, but when he saw an intersection full of passing vehicles, he realized he wouldn’t be able to stop in time. So he didn’t. He ran into traffic. A white town car blared its horn at him as he leapt clear over its roof and landed still running down the sidewalk.