Xandra and I had to climb over numerous back garden fences on our way out of Putsley Bay.


    The carry bags stuffed with clothes and other items taken from the charity shop, along with our new backpacks which were also filled near to the brim with stuff, added to the difficulty of leaving the seaside town unnoticed.


    It seemed we had timed our exit well because our heightened senses could hear the ever increasing bustle of people and cars coming from the main seaside strip.


    Xandra dropped down from what I hoped would be the last of the back garden fences. I let the carry bag drop to the grass on the other side first, then climbed over the fence and dropped down with a clumsy thud.


    It was becoming clear that we might have taken too much from the charity shop to be able to travel on foot effectively. Even Xandra, despite her nimbleness, huffed and puffed with each fence in our way.


    Xandra set her carry bag down and crouched low as she looked to the tall chainlink fence ahead of us. Beyond the fence lay parking spaces and a petrol station, which we could see from the back of the building.


    I set my carry bag down next to hers and crouched beside her. The whole thing had a tinge of fun to it, as if we weren''t on the run but were actually just playing hide and seek around our local town.


    "Last stop," said Xandra, "We''re going to need food for the next few days, so we should go into the back and take whatever''s in storage."


    "Wait," I said, "You don''t even want to try paying for the food first?"


    Xandra gave me a look as if I had said something pretty stupid.


    "Do you have a Piper Pass?" she said.


    "Obviously, no," I said.


    "Then our only option is to steal," she said.


    "Is some guy in a petrol station really going to take this Piper Pass thing that seriously?" I said.


    Xandra smiled without mirth, "You really don''t get how crazy things have got? People will freak out as soon as they suspect you''re one of the teenagers that might blow up or become some monster."


    "But the blowing up part isn''t true," I said, "It was all made up."


    "That doesn''t matter to them," said Xandra, "Trust me, the easiest way for us to get food is to go through the back, take what we can, and go. If you want to leave some money to ease your conscience then that''s fine too, I guess."


    I put my hand to my forehead and just felt tired all of a sudden.


    "I don''t want to steal," I said, "It''s a slippery slope."


    "Stealing some food won''t make you a supervillain, Burg-man," said Xandra, "Sure, if things were normal, stealing would be wrong. But we have an entire country wanting to lock us up and do who knows what to us; the normal rules don''t apply."


    "Yeah," I said, tiredly, "I''ve seen what they''d do to us firsthand. Trust me, you''re better off dead than getting caught."


    "Okay," said Xandra, "So we''re breaking in?"


    I let out a sigh and sat on the grass.


    Oh come on, I thought, I know how this will go. I''ll try to be good and pay for the food, the guy behind the counter will freak out, and then Xandra and I''ll have to run away. Who needs the stress?! Not. Me. Or, we could go through the back, take some food, I''ll leave some money, and then we''re out of here without anyone being bothered.


    "Fine," I mumbled, "But I''m going to break in through the back this time. Don''t want a repeat of what happened at the charity shop."


    Xandra smiled genuinely this time before giving me a playful jab on the shoulder.


    "Sorry I''m not an expert at breaking in yet," she said, "This stuff takes practice."


    "Yeah," I said, grunting a little as I picked myself up off the floor, "Let''s not get too much practice."


    Before we set off on our new mission Xandra and I made an extra effort to disguise ourselves. For my part I pulled down the fox hat over my eyes which, although the world became a bit more orange, worked surprisingly well as a half-mask. According to Xandra the eyes of the hat lined up pretty well with my real eyes hidden beneath.


    Xandra had taken a black hoodie from the carry bag and put that on beneath her fleece. She then put up the hood to cover most of her face in shadow; to my surprise the hood had a pair of cat-like ears attached to the top.


    "Oh great," I said, "We''re fox-boy and cat-girl."


    "Miss Raccoon," Xandra corrected, then she seemed to get a little embarrassed, "I mean, if I''m going to have a codename, I wanna be called ''Miss Raccoon'', okay?"


    I felt a sudden tightness in my gut. Something weird was going on. I had only been joking about our codenames but Xandra seemed to take it seriously.


    "Okay," I said, "Then you can call me Fox-Frog."


    I gestured to my frog backpack, "Don''t wanna leave this guy out of the fun."


    I wasn''t prepared for the sheer giddy joy that brightened Xandra''s face. She clapped her hands together several times like a girl told that she''s going to be a bridesmaid. This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    "Fox-Frog!" she said, "I love it!"


    The whole thing felt very cringe to me, but in a fun way. But, in another way, I felt like there was something else at play with our new names. I had meant our names to be something casual, but there was a strange weight to the addition of the new names as if we had crossed a threshold we hadn''t realised the importance of until it was too late.


    Or maybe I was overthinking things as usual. Yeah, I thought, probably just overthinking it.


    It became my task to use my bulbing power in my right hand to quickly burn through the links in the chainlink fence. My hand carved through the metal links surprisingly easily, burning through each link until Xandra was able to pry a section of the fence away, leaving us both with enough room to move one at a time through the hole in the fence.


    I went first. Once on the other side of the fence Xandra passed through our carry bags. I took them and all the while I felt an ever increasing sense of dread. It wasn''t just nerves from what we were about to do, but a strange kind of dread that echoed the panic attack I had way back on the third floor in Wedder Gorge after spending several days on the fourth floor (directly after George had been murdered.)


    Xandra and I reached the back door of the petrol station and the feeling of dread grew so bad I could hardly think straight at all.


    "Fox-Frog?" said Xandra, and it took me a second to remember that was my codename.


    "What''s wrong?" Xandra asked, dismayed at the sight of me hunching forward as if I were about to be sick.


    "This is a bad idea," I said, "Something''s wrong. We can''t do this."


    "Hey," said Xandra, dropping the carry bags to the ground, "Everything''s fine. We''ll be in and out."


    A headache had come on me with a strange intensity.


    "No," I said, "I can''t do it."


    "How is this any different from the charity shop?" said Xandra.


    "I don''t know," I said, "I can''t explain it, I just – I just don''t think we should break in."


    "What?" said Xandra, her tone changing from concerned to seriously annoyed, "Do you have the power to see into the future? Things are fine, you''re wasting time!"


    "Yeah," I said, nodding, taking huffing breaths, "You''re right, I''m being stupid."


    I forced myself to face the back door to the petrol station. The plan was simple; all I needed to do was coil up and yank the door open with as much strength as I could muster.


    But my body felt strangely agonized in a way that was taking me completely by surprise. It was as if the stress were gripping my body to the point I could hardly move.


    The fox hat in particular felt stifling and my hair prickled beneath it. I wanted to yank it off.


    "Ah!" I gasped, "I''m sorry, I can''t do this."


    I picked up my carry bag and walked back the way we had come from the chainlink fence. Xandra picked up her carry bag and chased after me. I came to the hole in the chainlink fence and felt Xandra yanking on my stupid frog rucksack.


    "What''s wrong with you?" she said, "Why''re you freaking out?"


    "I don''t know," I said, "This whole thing just feels wrong. Maybe it''s that simple. We shouldn''t go breaking into petrol stations; we shouldn''t be stealing food."


    It was then I felt a hard kick to my ribs that sent me crashing into the fence. I climbed to my feet and turned to see Xandra''s face bright red with frustration.


    "If you''re going to mess around like this then maybe it''s not a good idea for us to stick together," she said.


    For a horrible moment I felt so angry she had kicked me that I considered hitting her back. I couldn''t see her eyes, but I could see the way her jaw was clenched in anger.


    Then her anger lessened and she sighed.


    "This was stupid," she said, "I thought we''d be able to do this together but you''re not taking this seriously."


    "I am taking this seriously!" I shouted, "I''m dead serious. I''m sorry I don''t know how to describe it, but I just have this feeling that this is the wrong way to go about things. I can''t explain it."


    Xandra stifled a mirthless laugh.


    "You''re really going to let your feelings decide everything?" said Xandra, "What about making sure we don''t starve?"


    I took a deep breath and tried to think things through. What was it that made this different from stealing from the charity shop?


    People, I thought, there''s people here.


    "Look," I said, "We can try another place. Just somewhere where we''re not going to cause trouble. It was okay with the charity shop because there was nobody there."


    I gestured to the petrol station, "If we break into there then who knows what might happen."


    "Nothing is going to happen," said Xandra, "It''s just a stupid petrol station for crying out loud!"


    I stood to my full height. A sudden calmness had taken hold of me, met also with a hard-felt weariness.


    "Look," I said, "I just don''t think it''s going to be my way of doing things. It''s like…"


    "What?" said Xandra in a curt tone, "It''s like what?"


    I searched the parking lot concrete for an answer and surprised myself with what I found.


    "I guess right now I feel like I would be giving up something stealing from the petrol station. I''m prepared to try something else. To find another way to get something for us to eat. Maybe it''s just too soon to throw the towel in and expect the worst out of people. For all we know we could stroll in there and pay for the food and it''ll all be fine."


    "Sure," said Xandra, "Go ahead. But don''t cry to me when they come after you."


    "So you''re going to run off too?" I said, finding a sudden vitriol rise up in my words.


    "What?" said Xandra.


    "Trust me," I said, "You wouldn''t be the first person to give up and leave when things get tough."


    "Did I say I was leaving?" said Xandra.


    "I don''t know," I said, "That seemed to be what you were implying."


    "Okay," said Xandra, "Yeah, that was what I was implying. But, I guess while we''re at it, I''d love to hear what your better idea would be."


    "How about this," I said, with an unexpected smile on my face, "Let''s make a bet."


    Xandra cocked her head to the side a little.


    "Go on," she said.


    "I bet I can walk into the petrol station, pay for all the food we need, and there''ll be no hassle to it whatsoever," I said.


    "Do you really believe that?" said Xandra.


    "It doesn''t matter," I said, "Because that''s what I''m going to do. Now, if I go in and there''s no hassle, then you''ll have to admit that I was right and that maybe I''m not so stupid. Okay?"


    "And if I win the bet?" said Xandra, smirking, "What do I get?"


    I threw my hands up.


    "What do you want?"


    "I win," she said, "Then you have to admit you were wrong, that I''m right, and that my way of doing things is better."


    "It''s not," I said, so I confidently stuck my hand out for Xandra to shake. I felt the soft firmness of her hand in mine for a moment as we shook hands.


    The bet was on.