Kevin couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.
It was a quiet kind of wrong—the kind that settled into the corners of a house and waited. His room felt too still, too cold. Even the hum beneath his skin, once constant and electric, now sputtered in weak, uneven pulses.
He stood at his window, peeking through a sliver in the curtains. The street looked normal at first glance… until it didn't. A silver sedan sat parked beneath the streetlamp, engine off, windows tinted. A man stood across the street pretending to scroll his phone, though he hadn't looked down in nearly a minute. And behind the neighbors' hedge, he saw a second shadow shift ever so slightly.
Kevin's breath hitched.
They'd found him.
He backed away from the window, pulse quickening as the faint lightning in his veins flickered too dim, too unreliable. He hated how weak it felt. Downstairs, the TV murmured from the living room where his dad sat watching a late-night documentary. Oblivious. Safe.For now.
Kevin rubbed his forehead. He needed a plan. The house went black.
Not the street. Not the neighbors.Only his house.
"Kev?" his dad called from downstairs. "You blow a fuse or something?"
Kevin didn't answer. He couldn't. His throat went dry.
A soft thud hit the side door.Then another.Then "Team One, in position," a voice murmured from outside.
Kevin's heart lurched up into his throat.
The front door exploded inward.
Splintering wood. A crash of metal. Boots pounding across the hardwood floor. Flashlight beams slicing through the darkness. Men in dark tactical gear rushed inside, moving with brisk, terrifying precision.
His dad shouted in confusion"Hey! What the hell—?"before a pair of gloved hands shoved him to the floor and held him there.
"Dad!" Kevin's voice cracked as adrenaline surged.
Lightning flared across his arms—bright, strong—then sputtered out like a dying bulb.
Not now.Not now.Not now.
He bolted from his bedroom anyway.
An agent lunged up the stairs toward him, hand outstretched.Kevin tried to burst forward but his speed stuttered. His legs dragged. Electricity fizzled uselessly.
The agent's fingers brushed Kevin's shirt and then a desperate spark ignited inside him.
Lightning ripped through his muscles just long enough for him to vanish from the agent's grip and sprint down the hallway.
He practically threw himself over the banister, sliding down it in a blur before crashing onto the floor below. Pain shot up his side. He'd landed wrong. Sloppy. Slow.
He pushed himself up with shaking arms.
Another agent appeared from the kitchen doorway, leveling a humming capture net at him.
Kevin ducked.The net blasted past and slammed into the wall, crackling violently.
He sprinted behind the couch, breath ragged, electricity flickering along his skin like static in a storm. His powers were betraying him—surging one second, dying the next. Unpredictable. Dangerous.
He had only seconds before they boxed him in.
He needed something. Anything. Supplies. Clothes. Money.
Kevin dove into the laundry room and slammed the door. He grabbed a small backpack hanging on a hook and stuffed it quickly with whatever he could reach in the dark—two shirts, a hoodie, one pair of jeans, a granola bar, his wallet.
The door shuddered behind him."Move! Move! He's in here!"
Kevin didn't think. He grabbed the tiny window latch, shoved it open, and squeezed through just as the laundry room door burst inward.
He hit the ground hard outside, rolling over dead leaves and damp grass. A shard of glass from the window sliced his arm, but he barely felt it over the panic.
Flashlights swept across the yard.
"There! Backyard!"
He staggered to his feet, tried to run, and cursed when his legs moved painfully slow. His powers sputtered out again.
Come on. Come on!
An agent vaulted off the back deck and lunged. Kevin twisted and lightning surged so violently through him that the air cracked. The agent was thrown backward, his visor shorting out with a burst of sparks.
Kevin didn't stay to see if he got up.
He vaulted the fence, scraped his hands, ignored the sting, and kept running.
The neighborhood became a blur of shadows and fences and porches. Every corner held another flashlight, another agent, another threat. Every attempt to speed up led to a painful stutter like his body was misfiring.
He was fast, but not fast enough.Not consistently.
Backyards.Alleys.Side streets.Construction lots.
His lungs burned.His legs felt like lead.His lightning felt like it was tearing him apart from the inside.
Ahead, the overpass loomed. If he could get past that if he could just reach the highway he could disappear into the night.
But an agent stepped into his path, breath fogging in the cold, stance low and ready.
Kevin tried to accelerate nothing.Again a flicker, a spark, then total blackout.
His powers failed completely. The agent lunged and a surge erupted inside Kevin like a lightning bolt hitting his heart. Light exploded around him.He shot sideways, faster than he'd ever moved, faster than he thought possible.
He didn't stop until he was a distant streak in the dark, collapsing behind a row of dumpsters miles from home.
He lay there trembling, bleeding, exhausted. He didn't dare look back, but he could picture the chaos he'd left behind—agents swarming his street, his dad yelling his name, the front door shattered.
He'd crossed a line tonight.There was no going back.
Kevin pushed himself up using the dumpster wall and looked toward the distant glow on the horizon. New York City.Huge. Loud. Anonymous.
A place to hide. A place to figure out what he was.A place where no one would know his name. He tightened the backpack strap on his shoulder, wiped the blood from his arm, and started walking.
Toward the lights.Toward the unknown.Toward whatever came next.