The three of us stood outside The Shops Pub for one last look. The lights were off, the doors shut, and a good deal of the mess we had made left untouched.

It was dark out, made darker because thick storm clouds filled the night sky, blotting out any moonlight which might have been available. Strong icy cold winds were also blowing, but that didn't bother us three powered mice.

An air of mystery had returned to The Shops Pub as it loomed before us with its dark silhouette melting into the night sky.

The Shops Pub had started as a pit stop to rest after all the mayhem of Fauncherton Green. In a short amount of time it had become a place of change; first with me healing, then gaining my Handsome Mask thanks to Slip, and then with me undergoing my own cocooning into my current Resin-Masked form. There were going to be few respites from danger on our way towards Stowchester, so it seemed worth taking the time to appreciate a place which had given the three of us shelter, food, TV, and music.

Snap was the first to make a salute, then Clang and I followed quickly after.

"Thanks pub," said Snap.

"Thank you, pub," I said.

"Bye," said Clang.

We each had large rucksacks on our backs thanks to Snap's outing earlier in the evening to a nearby village town charity shop. Thanks to Snap, the three of us had a change of clothes each, and some food and drink supplies.

The reason we had a new supply of food, which consisted of sausage rolls, pork pies, and jam donuts; and bottled drinks, water and smaller carton juice drinks (some apple, others orange), was because Snap had stolen the food from the only cafe in the nearby village town after she had finished getting the rucksacks and new clothes from the charity shop.

I'd had to come to terms with stealing as a necessity. Because there wasn't an alternative. We were effectively in a war-time situation. The Pied Pipers, and by extension Chellam, were trying to kill us, and it wasn't as if we could work jobs to support ourselves. Even so, stealing felt wrong, and that was yet another compromise I had to make in the name of survival.

Is there an alternative? I wondered as the three of us turned away from the pub and ran out the main entrance and onto the road.

The alternative was never getting evacuated in the first place, I thought, the alternative was never using the power to begin with.

That was a strange thought.

What if I never used the power at all? What if I had failed the treadmill torment test like Alex Landly? Would I still be on the run? Or could I be home right now with my family?

It was left to Snap to lead the way through the night, across numerous farms and fields.

I had a good idea of the general direction we needed to go, but Snap had already memorized the United Kingdom map using the power to make sure she could recall every road and street name with perfect recall.

I better get round to doing that too, I thought, when the three of us had agreed for Snap to lead the way. I had expected Clang to kick up a fuss, but he hardly cared and instead ate one of his pork pies whilst Snap and I figured things out.

I had my Resin-Visor on, which made it a nicer experience to run and leap in springy bounds through the night.

Snap and I led the way, and were a good deal faster than Clang in his base form. He thundered along relentlessly in our wake, his heavy footfalls tearing up the muddy grass beneath him.

Yet another hedgerow separating one farmer's land from another blocked our way. Snap sprang over with gravity defying ease, even going so far as to do an acrobatic twirl through the air before disappearing over the other side. I bounded over, bringing my legs up and clearing the hedgerow but without the same acrobatic flair.

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SCRITCH-SCRATCH!

I landed on the other side and bounded upwards into the air again and turned back to see Clang smashing through the hedgerow like a human cannon ball.

He landed with a thud and then, without losing any momentum, he continued to thunder onwards in our wake.

That's one way to do it, I thought.

Light rain fell, but it was pleasant and tingly given the cold and wetness had no real effect on our powered bodies.

We ran through the night, Snap first, then me, then Clang further behind, for about twenty minutes. In that time Clang had barrelled through more than a dozen hedgerows.

His hard pseudo-metallic skin wasn't bothered in the slightest from the scraping twigs and branches, though his running trousers and black vest were already pocked with small holes.

Besides the odd passing car along the roads, which we all used our heightened senses to be well aware of ahead of time, there was very little to be concerned about.

In a way this was worse. It was the calm before the storm. A familiar pang of fear had settled into my gut, and every springing leap through the air at high speed made the cramp a little bit worse. Although I had already doubled-down on my decision to go to Stowchester, there was still time to change my mind.

My heightened vision picked up the small changes of light far off in the distance on my latest bound over yet another hedgerow.

The light was flashing a mixture of red and blue.

Snap had caught sight of the light change too, and had stopped first. I landed beside her, and Clang came crashing through the hedgerow behind us right after.

"Police," I said.

"It's the funnel again," said Snap.

"Funnel?" said Clang as he joined us and pulled a twig out of his black vest.

"The police set up blockade funnels," said Snap, "If we go ahead the blockade might force us into a choke point. But I don't know if we can even go around the blockade."

"It's probably safer to assume they've set up the blockades around London to create multiple chokepoints," I said.

"There has to be gaps," said Snap, "But we won't be able to find them without risking getting close enough to the police blockades."

"Fine with me," said Clang, "Let's charge through."

Snap turned on Clang with her hands at her hips.

"You're joking?" she said.

"I don't mean fight them," said Clang, "I just wanna get on with it."

They both looked to me. I was glad my eyes were obscured by the Resin-Visor, because I felt majorly uncertain about things.

This was it. A different kind of chokepoint. The threshold. Anything which happened next if we chose to go towards the police blockades was going to be on me.

I clenched my fists.

"This is it," I said, "If we do this, there's no going back."

"Good," said Clang.

Snap however hesitated her answer. Her frowning anime-style eyes set on me. Then she smiled, showing her fangs. And she didn't even have to say anything more except to smile with devil-may-care enthusiasm.

That was it. If they were in any way meant to be devils or angels on my shoulder, their chance to talk me out of it was over.

"Okay," I said, "We're going to have to pick things up. Clang, you've got to move faster."

"Yeah," he said, nodding with determination.

Clang took a step back and entered into a power stance.

"Tension!" he yelled.

"Shush!" Snap whisper-yelled in dismay at the sudden noise.

"Keep it down!" I whisper-yelled right after.

Clang nodded, and a vein in his temple throbbed as he concentrated on entering into his tension state.

"Tension!" he whisper-shouted, earning cautious but approving nods from Snap and me.

"Cooling!" Clang whisper-yelled right after.

I could feel the heat suddenly rising off his body as if he were a human-shaped frying pan. Steam escaped his mouth in a sudden gush.

Then, bit by bit, the sand-like mask he had created for himself to protect his identity emerged out of his skin. The mask had started as a silvery-liquid, likely parts of Clang's own sweat and blood, and once the silvery-blood was in place it solidified in a sheen of gold. This time, rather than cover his whole face, the dully-golden mask covered the top half of his face like a cowl, leaving his mouth exposed to the open air.

"Now who's copying who," I said, wryly.

Clang grinned and shrugged off his rucksack, and took out a sausage roll. He took several huge bites. I could smell where the heat from inside Clang's mouth was reheating the sausage roll as he ate.

"Gonna need fuel," said Clang when he finished the last mouthful.

"If we're gonna move fast," said Snap, "Then I'll do this."

Clang and I watched as Snap bit into the palms of her hands with her fangs.

"What're you doing?" I whispered.

Snap didn't respond. Instead Clang and I watched as two ink-coloured bubbles formed in her hands; at first the size of tennis balls, then larger to the size of footballs.

"Is that your blood?" Clang's voice rang.

"Yeah," said Snap.

She brought one of the balls to her bare right foot, and stepped on it, and then put the remaining ball to the sole of her other foot.

Then, to prove what all this effort was for, Snap bounced on the spot.

And she really bounced. Up high, with surprising silence too. Upon landing, she bounced, each bounce having enough spring to it for her to easily rise over our heads and back down again. Snap settled the bouncing, and finally stood still. Looking down to her feet, the ink-blood orbs, clearly imbued with her rubbery nature, remained semi-squished.

"So long as I'm touching the blood-rubber I can manipulate it," she said.

"Amazing," I said, meaning it.

The other two turned their attention to me. It was my turn to figure out a speed boost.

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