The Strongest's Babysitter

After a while, Bob stood up and ruffled Alex's hair. "Alright, kiddo. I gotta go talk to Mr. Smith for a bit. You stay here, okay? Don't… I don't know, blow up the house or anything."

Alex sat up, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "No promises."

Bob groaned. "Great. Just what I need—a mini Rick with a sense of humor."

As Bob headed downstairs, he found Smith waiting in the kitchen, a cup of coffee in hand. The older man looked exhausted, his usual stoic demeanor replaced by a weary frown.

"How's the kid?" Smith asked, not looking up.

"Curious. Annoying. Exactly like his dad," Bob replied, leaning against the counter. "What's the plan, Jack? You can't expect me to just babysit him forever."

Smith sighed, setting his coffee down. "The Order's already moving. They've got eyes everywhere. We need to get Alex out of here—somewhere safe, where they can't find him."

"And where's that?" Bob asked, crossing his arms.

Smith hesitated, then met Bob's gaze. "There's a place. An old facility, off the grid. It's where we trained… people like you."

Bob's eyes narrowed. "You mean a lab."

"It's not like that anymore," Smith said quickly. "It's secure. Hidden. And it's the only place The Order won't be able to track him."

Bob clenched his fists, his jaw tightening. "You're asking me to take him back to a place like that? After everything?"

Smith's expression hardened. "I'm asking you to keep him alive. If you've got a better idea, I'm all ears."

Bob glared at him, the air between them crackling with tension. Finally, he exhaled sharply and looked away. "Fine. But if anything happens to him—if anyone even looks at him wrong—I'm holding you responsible."

Smith nodded. "Understood. We leave at dawn."

…

Bob didn't sleep that night. He sat on the couch in the safe house's living room, staring at the ceiling, his mind racing. The weight of Rick's letter felt heavy in his pocket, and the memory of Alex's wide, curious eyes kept replaying in his head. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was walking into a trap—or worse, leading Alex into one.

At dawn, Smith knocked on the door, his expression as unreadable as ever. "Time to go."

Bob stood, stretching his stiff muscles. "Where's Alex?"

"Already in the car," Smith said. "He's… excited."

Bob raised an eyebrow. "Excited? Kid's got no idea what he's in for."

Smith didn't respond, simply turning and walking out the door. Bob followed, his unease growing with every step. Outside, a black SUV idled in the driveway, its windows tinted and its engine humming softly. Alex was in the backseat, his face pressed against the glass, watching the trees sway in the morning breeze.

Bob climbed into the passenger seat, glancing back at Alex. "You ready for this, kid?"

Alex grinned. "I've never been on a road trip before. Are we gonna stop for snacks?"

Bob couldn't help but chuckle. "Yeah, kid. We'll stop for snacks."

Smith started the engine, and they pulled away from the safe house, the cabin disappearing into the trees behind them. The drive was quiet at first, the only sound the hum of the tires on the road. Alex eventually dozed off, his head resting against the window, while Bob kept his eyes on the horizon, his mind still racing.

After a few hours, Smith broke the silence. "We're heading to the old Facility 17. It's been decommissioned for years, but it's still the most secure location we have."

Bob's jaw tightened. "You mean the place where they experimented on kids like me? Where they turned us into weapons?"

Smith's grip on the steering wheel tightened. "It's not like that anymore. It's just a safe house now."

"Safe house," Bob muttered, shaking his head. "You keep saying that, but it doesn't change what that place is. What it was."

Smith didn't respond, his eyes fixed on the road. Bob turned to look out the window, the landscape blurring past. He couldn't shake the memories—the cold, sterile halls, the endless tests, the pain. He didn't want to go back there. But for Alex… for Rick… he would.

…

There were 10 miles left until they arrived when Bob felt something—someone. It might not have been so alarming if that someone wasn't directly above them.

"Jack, drive faster," Bob said, his voice tense.

Smith glanced at Bob, his grip tightening on the steering wheel. "What's wrong?"

"We've got company," Bob said, his eyes narrowing as he stared up through the sunroof. "Someone's above us. Drive. Faster."

Smith didn't argue. He slammed his foot on the accelerator, the SUV lurching forward as the engine roared. Alex, who had been dozing in the backseat, jolted awake. "What's going on? Why are we speeding?"

"Stay down, kid," Bob snapped, his voice sharp but not unkind. "And don't ask questions."

Alex's eyes widened, but he obeyed, slumping low in his seat. Bob kept his gaze fixed above them, his body tense. The feeling of being watched—of being hunted—was all too familiar. He clenched his fists, his mind racing. *The Order. They found us already?*

The road ahead was empty, the trees lining either side a blur as the SUV sped forward. But Bob could still feel it—the presence above them, moving in sync with the car. It wasn't just one person. It was multiple. And they were closing in.

"Jack, we need to lose them," Bob said, his voice low and urgent. "Now."

Smith's jaw tightened. "I'm trying. But this isn't exactly a sports car."

Before Bob could respond, a shadow passed over the SUV, dark and swift. Alex gasped, pointing out the window. "What was that?!"

Bob didn't answer. His eyes darted to the rearview mirror, where he caught a glimpse of a figure descending from the sky—a man in a sleek black suit, his face obscured by a helmet. The figure landed on the road behind them with a heavy thud, crouching low before launching himself forward, his speed unnatural.

"They're on us," Bob growled. "Jack, get us off this road. Now."

Smith's knuckles whitened as he gripped the steering wheel tighter. "You're insane. You're going to jump out of a moving car with a kid?"

"You got a better idea?" Bob shot back, his scarlet eyes flicking to the rearview mirror. The figures pursuing them were gaining ground, their movements unnaturally fast. "We don't have time to argue. Just do it!"

Smith cursed under his breath but nodded. "Fine. But if you get him killed, I'll—"

"Yeah, yeah, you'll kill me. Noted," Bob interrupted, his tone sharp. He turned to Alex, who was still crouched low in the backseat, his face pale with fear. "Listen, kid. When I say 'go,' you grab my hand and don't let go. No matter what happens, you hold on. Got it?"

Alex nodded shakily, his blue eyes wide. "Got it."

The SUV bounced and jolted as Smith navigated the uneven dirt path, the trees closing in around them. Bob kept his eyes on the road ahead, his body tense and ready. "Slow down… now!"

Smith slammed on the brakes, the tires skidding on the loose dirt. Bob threw open the door, grabbed Alex's hand, and yanked him out of the car. The momentum sent them tumbling into the underbrush, branches and leaves scratching at their skin. Bob shielded Alex with his body, rolling to a stop in a small clearing.

"Stay down," Bob whispered, his voice barely audible. He crouched low, his eyes scanning the trees. The sound of the SUV's engine faded into the distance as Smith sped away, the pursuers following close behind.

Alex peeked out from under Bob's arm, his breathing shallow. "Are they gone?"

"Not yet," Bob said, his voice tight. He could still feel them—their presence like a cold shadow creeping closer. "Stay quiet."

The forest was eerily silent, the only sound the rustle of leaves in the wind. Bob's senses were on high alert, every nerve in his body screaming at him to move, to fight. But he stayed still, his hand gripping Alex's shoulder tightly.

Then, a twig snapped.

Bob's head snapped toward the sound, his scarlet eyes glowing faintly in the dim light. A figure emerged from the trees—a man in a black suit, his face obscured by a helmet. He moved with unnatural precision, his steps silent.

"Found you," the man said, his voice cold and mechanical.

Bob didn't hesitate. He shoved Alex behind him and lunged forward, his movements a blur. The man raised his arm to block, but Bob was faster. He grabbed the man's wrist and twisted, the sound of bones cracking echoing through the forest. The man grunted in pain but didn't falter, his free hand swinging toward Bob's head.

Bob ducked, the punch grazing his ear. He retaliated with a swift kick to the man's knee, sending him stumbling backward. But before Bob could press his advantage, two more figures appeared, flanking him on either side.

"Alex, run!" Bob shouted, his voice raw with desperation. "Get out of here!"

Alex hesitated, his eyes darting between Bob and the figures closing in. "But—"

"Now!" Bob roared, his voice leaving no room for argument.

Alex turned and bolted, his small frame disappearing into the trees. Bob felt a pang of relief, but it was short-lived. The figures advanced, their movements synchronized and deadly.

Bob clenched his fists, his power surging to the surface.