It didn't make sense. None of it. Why were they after him? What purpose was it to them to take the lives of those who were different – the lives of those who didn't make a choice to be different? People are most afraid of what they don't understand. Jacob didn't understand. He was only eight, after all. He just wanted to get away. He needed to get away.

Jacob shielded his eyes from the splinters of wood that came flying at him due to his blast he directed at the wall. He looked back up. The wall had imploded to create a hole approximately five feet wide and about four feet tall. Jacob squinted to keep the dust out of his eyes, and squeezed through the opening. His mother and father were huddled in a corner on the far side of the room, so as to keep away from his blast. Relief flooded their faces as he practically collapsed into their arms, sobbing.

His mother was stroking his hair and saying, "It's alright," into his ear. Her voice could barely be heard above the crackling of the fire. The fire. The heat was getting more intense. Jacob barely had time to give his mother a final hug before a crashing sound was heard. It came from outside the room. The door. The men! Jacob pulled away from his mother. It just didn't make sense. How could they have set the fire from the bottom of the building and still be up there with them? They should've been burned to a crisp, by now! Panic rose again, to a higher level than it already was, if that was even possible. His heart was pumping so fast that he thought it was going to explode. He turned to his parents.

"We need to get out of here! Can we use the fire-escape?" He didn't even wait for an answer. Crossing over to the other side of the room, he drew back the curtains and began to lift the window – his breath caught in his throat. There were up to five men already half way up the ladder leading to his parents' bedroom window. Panic. Jacob jolted away from the window in fear. Then he gathered his wits, slammed the window shut, and locked it tight. It probably wouldn't make any difference, but it would be something.

"Jacob, come over her-." Jacob's mom's voice was again drowned out by the sound of roaring flame. Following the flame was the sound of wall being torn down. Why me. There are millions of mutants in the world, and they had to choose this house! The frightened boy rushed close to his parents again.

"We have to get out of here!" His father recapitulated. "Jacob, can you blast through this wall? We can get to the hallway, if it's not too hot!"
"But, what about the men-?" Crash! The wall in Jacob's bedroom was being torn down. The men would find the hole leading to this room soon.

"Stand back!" Jacob started to say, but it was not necessary. His parents were already backing up from the wall. Jacob focused his mind on the wall, and released his hold on his magnificent power. And again, the sound of rushing wind filled Jacob's ears as a river of blue matter was directed out of his eyes at the wall. Again, Jacob shielded his eyes. He was hit with a blast of rolling heat that nearly sent him off his feet. He screamed at the burning of the front of his body. His parents rushed forward to help him, and put out the flames that were developing on his shirt and the front of his pants.

Another crash was heard this time behind them as their other assailants beat the window to shards with clubs. Jacob and his parents suddenly lost fear of the fire in the hallway, and rushed into it. They moved fast so as to not get burned by the flames licking at them from the wall, ceiling, and floor. The men were close behind them but the family threw chairs, moved tables, and used whatever they could find that was not burning to bar their escape. The sound of the men shouting at them from behind was what pushed them on. The men that came through the window had to stop for fear of the heat. It was certainly clear on their faces that the pursued family would be driven to their deaths by way of fire anyway. However, the men that had originally come up the stair way had fire-fighting suits on. They chased on, and though the suits slowed them down, they were no less determined to catch the fleeing family.

The skin of Jacob and his family blistered severely, and they cried out in pain, but did not stop. It was not a big apartment, and they quickly found the door that led to the next apartment. Jacob didn't need to be told. He blasted straight through, and the family rushed in. Jacob got an idea then, and turned around to aim at the pursuers. He had never aimed at a person before, and was reluctant to even now, but they were chasing his family. He opened his eyes a little wider and-

"Stop!" Jacob whirled around to see his father. Before he could do anything, his father grabbed his arm and pulled him forward through to the next apartment. "You don't know how to control your power that well yet!" His father yelled as they ran. "You could miss and bring the whole building down!"

Jacob reached out as they ran and over-turned another chair. His mother was already at this apartment's window. She had grabbed a chair leg, and broken through the glass. His father moved her aside to kick out the excess so they would not be cut as they squeezed through. Jacob risked a glance around-and ducked as a wooden plank flew out of nowhere. The plank missed his head, but clipped his arm and he yelped. One of the attackers was coming through the burning door frame that Jacob had just blasted through. He resisted the urge to aim his eyes at the pursuer again. His father was right, it was too risky.

"Hurry!" He yelled in fear to his parents.

"Come on!" Jacob's father was holding out his hand to Jacob. His mother had already gone through the window and was climbing down the fire-escape. "Let's go, Jacob!" His father said to him, wanting him to go next.

Jacob reached out for his father's hand….and got a hand full of burning rubble. Part of the ceiling had collapsed and fallen right between he and his father. Jacob screamed again and dropped the molten wood and shingle. His hand was burning.

"Jacob!" His father yelled and reached for him again, but by this time, the roof was ready to simply come down. Little bits and pieces came for an instant, and then about 25 feet of the roof groaned, sunk slightly then came crashing down on top of the two family members. His father just managed to escape by leaping backwards out the window, and grabbing onto one of the bars of the fire-escape.

Jacob wouldn't have made it out alive had not one of the attackers gotten across the room by then. Jacob was grasped sharply on the shoulder and thrown backwards. He flew for a second, then touched down on the burning floor and slid across it before slamming straight into something hard.

The last thing he remembered was a man's voice saying, "….wants him alive…." Then, he saw no more.