Chapter Eight – H is for Hellfire (title is courtesy of anonymous reviewer CasssusFettt() – Thanks)

You know how when a cartoon character is angry, the artist will draw them with steam coming of their ears. Let's just say I bet everyone in the mall could feel the steam's heat coming from Six. I know I could.

She was furious. There was no doubt about that. I looked at Sam, sitting in his chair with Delaney by his side then back at the blonde who was shaking - clearly with rage – though a part of me wished she was merely revved up on too much caffeine.

Our eyes met. She raised a single gloved fist and extended her forefinger, curling it once. Shit. She wanted me to come over there. I felt like a dog who got caught peeing on a new carpet. On the bright side, at least I wasn't masturbating.

I was able to slip away from the crowd easily enough as I wasn't the center of attention. Putting on my best smile, the one Sarah Hart deemed 'irresistible', I made my way toward Six hoping to diffuse her before she exploded.

"You can relax. It's not serious. In fact, doesn't even look like we'll need to go to the hospital. Unless you want to go steal some narcotics," I joked.

In two steps she advanced. We were standing face to face. "What the hell is wrong with you?" she hissed. "Why didn't you stop that ball before it hit him?"

"Stop the ball? So now it's okay for me to use my Legacy in front of a bunch of people? What happened to 'blending in'?"

"You call that blending in?" she threw an arm in the direction of the food court.

"Accidents happen all the time," I told her. "You're making a big deal out of nothing."

Just then two security guards walked past us. We both went silent watching as they made their way over to Sam. He sat up in his chair. Delaney and a few of the other girls began explaining what happened. One of the guards was writing it all down on a clipboard.

I looked back at Six. "They're just mall cops," I said. "They probably have to write up a report. You know. Official Mall Procedure."

Beneath the sunglasses I could feel her glaring back at me.

Then I heard Sam say, "National Center for Missing and Exploited Children? No that must a different Samuel Goode from Paradise, Ohio…,"

"Shit," I mumbled.

"Go get him," she ordered. "We're leaving now." As she stepped away she held up her right hand, fingers splayed widely. "Parking lot. Five minutes."

Shit. I clenched my fists hard looking over at Sam, whose "HELP ME" expression was unmistakable. Shit. How the hell was I going to get him away from two security guards and an entire softball and out into the parking lot in five minutes? Think. Think. Think.

I looked around quickly, the red and white Coke machine catching my eyes once again. An ever so brief vision of Six popped into my mind. SHIT! I had to stop thinking about red and concentrate on getting Sam. At the corner of the food court was an ATM. I bit my lip and concentrated, trying to imagine what the inner workings looked like. I focused my telekinesis. Nothing happened. I focused harder. The screen went blank.

Shit. I'll have to try something else.

The security guards were calling the local police on their walkie-talkies. I had to think fast. I glanced around again. Tables. Chairs. Trashcans. Some potted plants. What the hell could I do with those?

Above the food court was a few beams that cris-crossed across an opening leading to the second level. To my right was a hallway filled with kiosks. To my left was an alcove, with bathrooms and a water fountain. I turned my attention to the water fountain. I was about to burst the pipe leading from the wall when suddenly all the power in the building went out.

There was a small commotion from some of the patrons as the grates that cover the stores at the close of business began to drop down. The pair of security guards split up to check it out. I motioned quickly to Sam, who slipped under the table (grabbing both GAP bags – what a freaking nerd) and hustling toward me.

"Sam!" Delaney called after him. But he ignored her. Together we raced down the hall toward the main exit. People looked at us as we rushed by them. The automatic doors were locked in the closed position. There was a pair of elderly women stuck on the outside. They took turns pushing on the doors in attempt to open them. One remarked that she couldn't find the door handle. I quickly opened the doors with my powers – much to the surprise of the women. They made some kind of comment but I wasn't listening. I was too focused on getting the hell out of the mall and out of this town.

We ran out the doors into the warm sunshine. We kept running until we were at the truck. Bernie Kosar barked happily and wagged his tail as we approached. Beside him Six was waiting for us with her bike.

"Oh my God," Sam panted as he dug into his pocket for the keys. "Can't believe they almost got me for being a missing child. Shit." He unlocked the door. "It's a good thing the power went out when it did, huh John?" he winked at me as though I had something to do with it.

As I opened the door to get inside, Six grabbed my shoulder. "You're riding in the bed. With my bike."

"What? Why?" I frowned. But she'd already gone over to Sam, snatching the keys from him. "I'm driving," she informed him giving him a not-so-gentle shove across the bench seat.

I lifted her bike into the back of the truck then climbed in alongside it. Leaning my face into the open rear window I announced, "You know having passengers in the back of a truck is illegal in most states."

Six promptly slammed the window shut using her telekinesis. The engine roared to life and Six peeled out of the parking space. The bike tilted, its foot pedal digging into my leg. "OW!" I said aloud then pushed the bike off me with my powers.

I knocked on the back window. Bernie Kosar was leaning against it watching me. He perked his ears forward and barked. Funny!

Yeah. Real fucking funny.

I'm not sure how fast Six was going, but we blew by cars like they were standing still. Once we were on the highway she sped up even more. The wind whipped me in the face relentlessly. I had to duck my head between the bike and the truck to escape its wrath. The gale-like force stole my breath and I was forced to lay face down against the cold metal of the truck bed. Even then the wind tore at my clothes, dragging my shirt up to my neck. I could feel the chaffing on the exposed skin of my back. I spent the next three hours curled in the fetal position until Six finally pulled off the highway heading east. We slowed down driving along a winding country road. I swear she hit every pothole there was – on purpose. Each time I could hear the truck's worn suspension creak. The bed would jerk. My head would bang against the truck. Then bike would shift, stabbing me in random parts of my body.

Finally, she pulled up to the gas station and shut off the engine.

With great relief I stretched out, examining my scrapes and bruises. My shirt was stretched out. I had a headache and my bladder was about to burst. I jumped down from the truck, keeping my legs crossed so I wouldn't pee myself. Six was headed into the little store to prepay for fuel. Sam was heading toward a sign marked restrooms. "Sam, wait up," I called jogging lightly, holding myself as I tried to catch up with him.

When I saw his face I knew something was wrong. If he had a tail, it would have been between his legs. It was like night I saw him and his step-father leaving the music store when his step-father had been yelling at him.

"You okay?" I asked.

"Fine," he replied pushing open the door and going right a vacant urinal. Leaving an empty one in between us, I joined him in a dual urination. Sam finished first, flushing and then heading over to the sink to wash his hands. Sam was the only guy at Paradise High School that I'd ever seen washing his hands after he peed. Normally I didn't – yeah – I can be just as gross as human male – but today I did.

"Don't worry about the missing child thing," I told him trying to ease his mind. "Six took care of the surveillance video…."

"She told me," Sam replied, head still slunk between his shoulders. I got the feeling that wasn't the only thing she said to him.

"Look I'm sorry about all this," he muttered, reaching for a paper towel – only to find the dispenser was empty. "Aw fuck," he cursed wiping his hands on his pants. "Look, I don't want anyone to get hurt or killed," he said sadly looking at me. "I just want to find my Dad." He shoved his hands in his pockets.

From his downcast eyes I knew that he and Six had "The Talk".

"What did she say to you?" I asked.

"Pretty much the same thing you did. But she also said that if something like this ever happens again she won't think twice about leaving me behind."

"She said that she would leave you behind?" I was shocked. I knew Six wasn't exactly thrilled with the idea of Sam joining us in the first place – but to think that she would be so selfish didn't sit right with me. At all.

"Sam, you are not getting left behind. Ever," I declared as I turned around and fumed out the door to find Six. I hadn't gone far when I saw her standing next to the truck, while an older man in greasy coveralls pumped gas.

Now it was my turn to be angry. I got right in between Six and Mr. Greasy, interrupting whatever story he was telling her. "I need to talk you. Now." Without waiting for her to reply, I grabbed her arm and started to pull her away.

She twisted her arm, instantly breaking my grasp on her. "Later," she said sharply.

"Now," I countered reaching for her again.

"That your boyfriend," Mr. Greasy said to Six while giving me a nasty look.

"Uh, no," Six replied in the most condescending tone I'd ever heard. My anger kicked up a few notches and I used my powers to cause the gasoline to back up and overflow from the fuel tank. Mr. Greasy jumped back as the gas splattered all over his coveralls. Six stepped back to avoid being splattered as well. I grabbed her arm again dragging her about two feet before she freed herself again. So I tried to grab her and when I did I felt something wrap around my legs and the next thing I knew I was flat on my back with the wind knocked out of me.

As I struggled to breathe her face hovered above me. "Later," she repeated taunting me with a sadistic smile. Fury burned inside me as I took a few more gasps before finally catching my breath. By then she had already turned away and went back to the truck.

In that single moment I hated Six almost as much as I hated the Mogs.