As I start to run, my pace slows, exhaustion hitting hard. I lean back against the wall, chest rising and falling, desperate for water. Dad's been gone for about 17 hours, and the last time I ate was 11 hours ago… that was right before I froze up. Shouldn't have stayed up so long watching all those old movies and reading those comics. I cut off my own thought. "No, totally worth it—Bruce Lee movies and Superman comics were absolutely worth it."
I look ahead, staring into the dark abyss.
Bending down, I pull a shard out of the edge of my shoe. It's wedged in deep, so it takes a few tries. Finally free, I drop into my best Christy Mathewson pitching stance, and chuck the shard as hard as I can. It clinks off the wooden floor and walls, bouncing around the room until one echo sounds lighter than the others. I run to that spot and feel around, searching. My hand brushes over something unexpected—a poster.
Prison Break style, nice. I slide the poster aside, catching the faint smell of burning wood. Looking up, I see thick, curling smoke, and a bead of sweat forms on my forehead. No time. I punch through the poster, making a hole, and step back, taking a leap through it.
Inside is a hidden room, normal cabin colors but... obsessive. This is one of my dad's secret bases. Our 20th house, our 8th country, but this is the first time I've actually seen one of these rooms. It's packed with towering stacks of books, desktops on every desk, drawers spilling over with broken laptops, and one recent model with a hole punched right through the screen, next to some coffee stains. "Dad… definitely has anger issues," I mutter, shaking my head. Time to grab what I came for.
I pull open drawers, rummaging through closets filled with papers scrawled over with symbols and notes. Laptops everywhere, but I don't dare turn any of them on. Not. My. Business. I'm here for one thing.
Then I smell it—smoke. The fire's here.
I race to the last drawer and find a blue-and-black laptop. I flip it open and there it is: a tiny compartment with a photo tucked inside. Blue hair, unmistakable. Mom's hair… found it.
The fire is already spilling into the room, eating away at the walls. No time to think. I grab the entire laptop and stand still, steadying my breath.
Deep inhale, then exhale. "Let's go."