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--donation bonus (day #11, post 2/5)--
Hector took a long, tired breath. Fleeing from the police right now seemed exhausting. He almost let them arrest him on that impulse alone. But he had not forgotten. He’d killed several “people” today. And explaining that to the police seemed not only tiresome but downright impossible.

He would have liked more time to deliberate, but the cops didn’t look prepared to oblige. So he turned their tasers into metal bricks and ran for the bike during the confusion. Ms. Trent yelled something after him, but he couldn’t hear what it was.

One of the officers ran toward him with a nightstick as he started the bike. Hector raised a wall before the man reached him, and then peeled off the sidewalk. He circled wide around the crowd, hugging the edge of the parking lot until he found the road.

An unpleasant surprise was waiting for him, however. He passed under a police chopper, and when he looked back, he saw it turning around to pursue him.

He returned wide eyes to the road ahead. “How the fuck do I lose a helicopter?!”

He didn’t even know where he was going. It wasn’t like he could just go back to his house. And after a few minutes, he heard more sirens and saw flashing lights in his rearview mirror. The police must have also been clearing the streets ahead of him, because traffic soon became nonexistent--which was helpful insofar as ensuring he didn’t crash into anyone, but he figured it also meant they’d set up road blocks for him.

Sure enough, within a matter of minutes, he spotted a police barricade dead ahead. Four massive trucks filled the street and sidewalks, lights flashing with uniformed officers waiting, weapons drawn.

He only had one idea. And it felt like one of the stupidest things he’d ever thought of.