I pulled the car to a stop by a local roadside eatery, the kind of place that didn’t attract much attention. The parking situation was a mess—vehicles scattered across the grass or lined up along the road’s edge. As I looked out the window, I saw the eatery was connected to a small, humble home, probably run by a family.


    I parked the car at the far edge, away from the clutter. It meant more walking, but it also gave me a clean getaway if things went south. I didn’t like taking chances, especially not now. I pocketed my keys and grabbed my wallet from the backpack, then carefully lifted Leon from his car seat. He stirred but didn’t wake.


    Once I was sure the car was locked, I slung my backpack over one shoulder and headed toward the eatery. The smell of cooking meat and spices wafted toward me, mixing with the faint scent of gasoline from the parked vehicles. Leon was warm in my arms, his tiny face peaceful as he nuzzled into my jacket.


    It wasn’t much, this little roadside spot, but it was safe. Unassuming. Exactly the kind of place we needed right now—hidden in plain sight. No one would expect anything important to happen here.


    The ground crunched under my boots as I approached the entrance, passing by a couple of old pickup trucks and a minivan. A few people sat on plastic chairs outside, eating quietly. They barely glanced at me.


    Good.


    I adjusted my fake wig, making sure it was secure, and pushed the door open. Inside, the air was warm, and the smell of food was stronger. A few tables were scattered around, mostly empty except for one group in the corner. The owner, a middle-aged woman, stood behind the counter, wiping her hands on a stained apron. She looked up and gave me a polite smile, but her eyes didn’t linger. Just another customer passing through.


    I walked to the counter, Leon resting against my chest, his tiny hand clutching my jacket.


    "Just a meal," I said quietly, keeping my voice calm even though my mind was racing. "And something to drink."


    The woman behind the counter barely looked up, nodding as she scribbled down my order. "Curry and rice? And maybe soda?"


    "Yeah, that''ll do."


    She didn’t ask any more questions. People in places like this usually didn’t. That was good—it meant fewer prying eyes, fewer memories of faces that might get passed along if someone came asking later. I moved away from the counter, Leon still cradled in my arms, and found a seat in the far corner of the room, my back pressed against the wall. From here, I had a clear view of the entrance and anyone who stepped through it.


    Leon stirred, shifting slightly as his small hands curled into my shirt. His aura flickered, faint but present, and I could sense the subtle way it reached out, almost instinctively picking up on my own tension. I held him a little closer, smoothing down his hair, trying to steady my heartbeat so he wouldn’t feel it. He was too young to understand, but aura had a way of speaking its own language, especially between family.


    I glanced around the room, my eyes drifting from table to table, scanning the faces. A few families sat scattered, eating their meals, and a couple of truckers were seated near the back, gruff and engrossed in their food. No one seemed out of place. No one looked my way. Yet that nagging feeling remained, like the weight of a gaze I couldn’t quite catch.


    I knew I was being paranoid.


    But paranoid trumped dead anytime of the day.


    I turned my attention back to Leon, forcing a smile for his sake. "It''s just a quick stop, little guy. After this, we’ll be on the road again. Just need to fuel up, and we’ll be gone before anyone knows."


    He babbled softly, too young to form real words, but it was comforting nonetheless. The sound grounded me, reminding me that he was my priority. Everything I was doing, every risk I was taking, was for him and Leora. Nothing else mattered.


    Minutes passed, the air in the eatery filled with the smells of food and quiet chatter.


    Leon had woken up crying again. I’d just cleaned his diapers a few minutes ago, so he had to be hungry. I reached under my jacket and pulled out a bottle of milk, handing it to him. His tiny hands grabbed the bottle, and he started chugging, his new teeth working away at the sucker. I’d noticed there was already a small hole forming from all the chewing.


    The waitress brought over my plate of steaming hot curry and rice, setting it down without a word. I noticed there was bread too in the sides. I was ready to eat when she suddenly asked, “How old is he?”


    “Two years old,” I replied, a little wary of where this was going.


    “I don’t want to be a Karen, ''cause, well, my name is Karen... but you should probably start weaning him off the bottle. Look at him go. I mean, he’s adorable, but if he keeps this up, he might develop a fixation. You know, chewing on pencils or pens later. Worse, he’ll get picky with food as he gets older.”


    “Seriously?” I asked, not sure if I believed her.


    “Seriously. I’ve got three kids. My eldest didn’t stop with the bottle until he was seven—turned out to be a real handful,” she said with a laugh.


    I had already been feeding Leon solids for a few months, but every time, he cried for the bottle. I sighed, considering her words as Leon continued guzzling down his milk.


    “How about you let me hold him while you eat?” Karen offered, smiling.


    I shook my head. “Nah, I wouldn’t want to bother you.”


    “Your loss,” she said, shrugging.


    Leon kept chugging, and I started eating, tearing off small pieces of bread for him to nibble on between sips. This was my life now—one hand feeding my kid, the other hand holding a spoon. I nodded my thanks to Karen as I ate, but my attention was still tuned to Leon and the room around me.


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    I glanced at the TV while I ate, half-watching a football game as I tore into the curry. The rest of the eatery’s patrons weren’t paying much attention to the screen. Most were either focused on their food, glued to their phones, or chatting with one another. The atmosphere was relaxed, quiet, just the hum of life going on around me. It almost felt normal.


    Then, the game cut out, replaced by a news alert.


    "Breaking News! A forest fire has occurred on the Mivah Mountains this early in the morning, approximately nine o’clock—"


    My hand froze mid-bite, the fork hovering in the air. Mivah Mountains.


    The fire wasn’t mine. It couldn’t have been caused by Leon or me. I made damn sure we left stealthily, erasing every trace. I burned only what needed to be burned, making sure no residual flames would spread. The fire on the news—it could only mean one thing.


    Hunters.


    Trackers, more specifically. They must’ve been closing in, pushing hard to catch up to us. The speed at which they found my trail unnerved me. I’d been careful, careful enough to avoid detection for two years. But now, they were getting desperate, or maybe just more determined.


    I looked down at Leon, still happily munching on his bread, oblivious to the danger that was steadily creeping closer. My heart pounded against my ribs, but I kept my expression neutral. No sudden moves. Not yet.


    I needed to get out of here.


    Trackers. A specialized type of Hunter, and by far the most annoying to deal with. They could find you from a thousand different clues you’d never even notice—air signatures, tiny aura imprints, maybe even a drop of sweat you didn’t realize you left behind. The thought of them combing through the Mivah Mountains only cemented the relief I felt for getting out when I did.


    I devoured my lunch quickly, forcing myself to stay calm despite the growing urgency in my chest. Karen came over with an off-brand soda, her usual nosiness nowhere to be found this time. I paid her for the meal, giving her a little extra for the trouble, then picked up Leon and made my way back to the car. My fingers twitched to lock the doors the moment I settled him into the backseat.


    With the engine roaring to life, I sped off, merging onto the highway. My eyes darted to the side mirror every few seconds, scanning the road behind me for any suspicious vehicles. Nothing yet, but that didn’t mean I could relax. The news segment kept replaying in my mind—the fire, the timing. How much time did I have before they traced it back to us? I didn’t stick around to watch the whole broadcast, but it was recent enough to be an immediate threat.


    I opened the can of soda, chugged it down, and then crushed it in my hand, chucking it out the window. Every second counted now.


    If they were close, I needed to stay ahead. If they were still behind, then I had to get further ahead.


    I just had to keep moving.


    I had two days left before the meet-up with Leora. Just forty-eight hours. I kept reminding myself of that as I sat in the dimly lit motel room, cradling Leon in my arms. It was barely 5 a.m., the sun still hidden below the horizon, and my instincts told me it was time to move again. I’d been driving nonstop, only stopping at this motel to catch a few hours of sleep. I had planned to leave as soon as the first hint of light hit the sky.


    But something was wrong.


    As I passed through the hallways, I caught sight of them. Three people outside, standing too close to my car, studying it in a way that set my nerves on edge. I should have swapped vehicles by now. Changed the plates at least. But I’d gotten complacent, too focused on staying under the radar. Regrets weren’t going to help me now.


    I hurried back to the room—909, left side, third floor. The sound of my footsteps echoed softly in the empty corridor. My mind raced, calculating the next move, but my options were rapidly shrinking. The car was compromised, and I couldn’t risk an open confrontation, not with Leon to think about.


    Sitting on the edge of the bed, I held Leon tighter, his small body radiating warmth against my chest. He stirred in his sleep but didn’t wake. I took a deep breath, trying to calm my mind. They’d found me sooner than I expected, and now I was cornered.


    I couldn’t use the front exit—not with those three lurking around. I’d have to slip out the back or find another way. But first, I needed to buy some time. Maybe, just maybe, they hadn’t confirmed I was inside the motel yet.


    I scanned the room, my eyes landing on the phone. I picked it up and dialed the front desk. When the receptionist answered, I kept my voice steady.


    "Hi, this is room 909. Could you send someone to check on my car? I think I left the headlights on."


    She sounded confused but agreed, and I hung up. It wasn’t much, but it might at least get those people to shift their attention for a moment. That’s all I needed—a small window to slip out unnoticed.


    I made my way to the fire exit, clutching Leon tightly against my chest. The metal steps creaked underfoot as I descended, each sound making me wince. The fire escape was narrow, not exactly built for a man carrying an infant, but I managed, moving with as much grace as I could muster. My movements felt awkward, not as fluid as I’d have liked, but I couldn’t afford any missteps.


    As I reached the bottom, I found myself in a narrow alley cluttered with trash bins and overrun with stray animals. The air smelled of rotting food and damp concrete.


    I felt Leon stir slightly in my arms, his aura flickering faintly. I didn’t have time to second-guess myself. I reached for our Soul Link, tapping into Leon’s aura. His warmth spread through me, a faint heat coursing through my veins as I borrowed his power. It wasn’t much, but it made a difference. I could feel the aura of every living thing around me, however small, like threads of energy connecting us all. Even the stray animals had their own faint aura, subdued but present.


    I borrowed what I could from them, weaving their life force into my own. The pooling aura between me, Leon, and the strays equalized, dulling the sharpness of our presence. More muddled. Over twenty-one identical auras should be pretty confusing for a hunter.


    Chances were, the weak-willed would be spooked. At the minimum, forced to err on the side of caution.


    I kicked one of the trash bins, making a loud clatter that startled the stray animals. They scattered in all directions, their aura flaring as they bolted. It was a calculated move. If anyone was tracking us through aura, the sudden burst of seemingly identical life forms scattering would create a confusing mess to sift through.


    As the strays fled, I moved quickly through the alley. It was time to disappear into the background like a ghost.


    I visualized closing off my pores, imagining my aura compressing and shrinking into nothingness. The most basic of Trickster Method was all about minimizing presence, making yourself blend seamlessly with the world around you. It wasn’t perfect, but it was enough to fool most. I cycled Leon’s aura back to him, keeping just enough connected to maintain our Soul Link and enabling him to hide his aura.


    Once I received my son’s unfiltered aura, I processed it with the Trickster Method and then I was in stealth mode again.


    To any tracker, we should now feel like any other mundane person—just another father and child, lost in the ordinary world.


    I made my way through another alley, this time moving slower, more deliberate, like a shadow slipping past unnoticed. I followed the damp path back toward the motel, hugging the walls, listening carefully. Then I saw them.


    Three figures, the ones I’d spotted earlier. They were hunters, for sure. I could sense their auras now that they were close. Their energy was sharp, focused, each one a finely tuned instrument for the hunt. But they weren’t hunting me, not yet. They ran right past, too focused on whatever false lead I’d left in my wake.


    "Out of the way!" The muscled guy in the tank top shoved past me without a second glance, his aura thrumming with raw power. He was a brute, all strength and no subtlety. The other two followed, more cautious, but still blind to my presence.


    They didn’t notice a thing.


    I kept walking, slow and steady, not drawing attention, my heart pounding in my chest as I put more distance between us. I felt a strange satisfaction knowing they’d been fooled, but I couldn’t afford to relax. They were still hunters, still dangerous, and we were still being hunted.


    The motel was just behind me now. I needed a new plan.