Okay here's one I wrote some years ago before I found Big Closet. Found it the other day when I was trying to clean up some folders on my computer. It's a complete story a bit less than 40k in word length, never been posted anywhere else. Although I'll be posting it in segments as it needs some serious editing.

~o~O~o~

“Hey Davey,” Tommy shouted over the noise of the four wheelers the two boys rode down the overgrown logging trail side by side. “You think you could make a mini PPC cannon to put on our mechs?”

Each of the four wheelers the boys rode towed a small two wheeled cart each of which carried scaled down replicas of the giant robots from the BattleTech and MechWarrior series of games and books that the both loved so much. In the cart that Davey towed, a three foot tall replica of a Mad Dog or Vulture depending on which game you wished to go by while Tommy’s cart held a slightly larger Mad Cat or Timberwolf. Both robots had numerous paint splashes and splatters marking the camouflaged paint schemes in bright oranges and red splotches.

Davey’s parents had insisted that the boy replace the miniature railguns on the robots with paintball guns after an accident during their ‘Solaris games’, as the boys called their robot wars, landed Tommy in the emergency room with a broken leg after a shot from one of the robots ricocheted and hit the boy in the leg with one of the 1/4 inch steel ball bearing it used for ammunition.

“Maybe?” Davey kept his eyes on the trail as the gears began turning in his mind on this idea. Remembering how angry his parents had been when they found out that he has built and put the linear accelerator cannons on their toys that broke his best friend’s leg. Not only had they made him remove all the weapons and replace them with paint balls, they both now had to wear protective gear when playing with the robots. “But I doubt my mom would let us have them on our mechs.” His mind still going over the implications of how it could be done, “Anyways I think it would deplete the battery after one or two shots and probably fry the other mech’s electronics.”

“Probably not a good idea them,” Tommy shouted back over the roar of the four wheeler engines.

Davey thought about the changes his parents forced him to make on his toys. It did have a positive side effect, another patent and more money for his family. Davey had hated the stupid helmet and plastic elbow, shin and crotch guards his mother had bought, so Davey make his own armor. Super lightweight, completely resistant to both heat and cold and a half inch of it could stop a 20mm armor piercing sabot round. Of course the kinetic energy of being hit with such a force would kill anyone wearing the armor, but the human body can only take so much.

Arriving at the barn that Tommy jokily called the lair of his mad scientist buddy, they washed the paint marks off the robots, stowed them away in their respective nooks and plugged them in to recharge the batteries for the next time they took them out to play.

“How’s the Bushwacker coming?” Tommy pointed to the blue tarp that covered something the size of a farm combine.

“Great,” Davey grinned, “Want to see it?”

“Hell yea!” Tommy grinned wide.

“Help me take the tarp off,” Davey ordered and he began pulling on a corner of the tarp.

“Wow!” Tommy’s mouth fell open as he gazed up at the partially complete Battlemech,” Is that a Gatling gun?” looking at the multi-barreled left arm of the monster robot.

“sort of,” Davey beamed, “It’s a multi-barreled railgun!”

“What? Like our mech’s had?”

“Not exactly.” Davey explained, “Remember how it took so long between shots for the gun to reload and power up the charge with our Solaris mechs?”

“Yeah,” Tommy nodded.

“Well this one charges each barrel independently and at a faster rate.” Walking under the arm Davey began pointing out the barrel position. “It loads the .50 caliber aluminum jacketed iron round here,” then pointing to the next barrel counter clockwise, “It begins to charge the barrel until it reaches this position,” Pointing at another barrel, “Where it fires the round, then repeats.”

“Fifty caliber?”

“Yep,” Davey’s grin couldn’t get any bigger. “And these are shaped bullets, not round like our mechs had. The barrels are rifled for better accuracy too.”

“How fast?”

“Muzzle velocity is 8200 feet per second, almost seven times the speed of sound. Cycling rate is 66 rounds per minute.”

“Holy scrap metal batman!”

“Other arm I am still working on,” Davey led his friend to the other side of the Battlemech and pointed at the robots arm, “A PPC cannon right out of the game!”

“No way!”

“Yep, but I can’t get the energy ball to stay together for more than fifty feet right now, but anything inside that range… say bye-bye to your electronics.”

“Didn’t you say a PPC uses too much of the batteries?”

“Well,” Davey began fidgeting and looking at his feet, “I made a different power source for this.”

“Oh yea?” seeing his friend was holding out on him, “So what did you do?”

“Promise not to tell anyone?”

“Like anyone would believe me?” Tommy chuckled, “Heck if I told anyone about half the stuff you make, they would lock me up in the looney bin!”

“Yea but this you have to swear!”

“Okay.”

“No really, I mean it. If Mom ever finds out she would go ballistic.”

“I swear!” Tommy held up his right hand with his fingers spread in the same fashion Spock used in star trek, changing his voice to mock a very solemn vow, “I will never reveal your secret, not to torture, subterfuge or death threats!” Tommy grinned as he added, “as long as they don’t offer cookies!”

Both boys laughed at his last remark. One of Davey’s favorite tee shirts had the slogan, “Come to the dark side… We have cookies!”

“I, it uses,” Davey almost whispered, ”Fusion.”

“It’s fracking nuclear!” Tommy screamed.

“Shhh,” Davey waved his arms frantically at his friend.

“You built a nuclear reactor!” Tommy’s volume lowered.

“It's a small one.”

“Small?” Tommy gasped, “Can you even use the word small and nuclear in the same sentence?”

“Look it’s not like I built a nuclear bomb, this is a fusion reactor, not fission!”

“Oh so you didn’t use plutonium to build it?”

“No! Where would I get Plutonium?” Davey smacked his open palm against his friend’s forehead, “Fusion dipstick! It combines elements together to make its power, not separate them like in the Chernobyl plant that melted down. This goes bad the worst that can happen is you get wet.”

“How would you get wet?”

“It uses water as the source element. Water is separated into its base elements, then the hydrogen is fused into helium. The waste gases which are helium and oxygen are sent out through the exhaust.”

“Cool,” Tommy grinned, “So when do we get to try it out?”

“Uh, I’m still molding the armor for it and I don’t have a canopy for it yet.”

“So does it run yet?”

“Oh yea,” Davey smiled, “power, guns, gyros, everything fully working, just have to finish making the rest of the armor and it’s ready to roll!”

“When do you think you’ll have it done?”

“Now that I’ve figured out how to make a transparent version of the armor for the canopy glass,” Davey grinned, “I should be able to get it done in the next few weeks.”

~o~O~o~

“DAVEY RUN!!!” Davey fell out of bed tangled in his covers at the blood curdling scream.”

“Davey,” a computerized female voice spoke, “You are in danger, you must get out of the house immediately.”

“Sarah what is going on?” the boy fought back his panic as he removed himself from the bedsheets.

“There are six armed men, they have just taken your mother and father prisoner. I am unlocking the barn and have begun the startup sequence for the Bushwhacker. Go out the window, run to the barn and get into the Bushwhacker. The firearms these men possess cannot penetrate the cockpit of the Battlemech, you will be safe there until the police arrive.”

“What about mom and dad?”

“MOVE NOW!’ the computer voice commanded. “I have contacted the police and sheriff’s department, psychological countermeasures will deploy in ten seconds, nine seconds, eight seconds…”

Opening the window Davey leaped out onto the roof as someone began trying to force his door open. Seconds after Davey’s bare feet landed on the moist grass behind the house loud heavy metal music began blaring from inside the house, the house seemed to almost vibrate from the sheer volume of noise as Davey ran across the yard and through the barn door that was sliding open. Lifting a corner of the blue tarp that covered his project, Davey climbed up the wooden step ladder that he had left there and into the open cockpit.

“Upload complete,” Davey heard a mechanical voice from inside the helmet that lay on the side console, then a second later the voice of Sarah, his computer,” Put on the helmet Davey.”

Grabbing the helmet and strapping it on, “Sarah?”

“Yes Davey, I’m here.” Dave found comfort hearing her calm computer voice.

“What is going on?”

“I am still assimilating the data,” he heard over the helmets headset. “Six men entered your home at 4:36am forcing open the front door. Your father immediately came out into the upstairs hallway where he was shot with a type of Taser by one of three men that had already come up the stairs. Your mother saw this and screamed which woke you up. I engaged the lock to the door of your room to give you time to escape and then began using your music throughout the speakers in the house to provide a psychological distration while you escaped, meanwhile starting the Bushwhacker and opening the door for you and uploading myself to the Bushwhacker’s computer.”

“Why upload, I can talk to you from here?”

“Not after I do this,” from the open barn doors Davey could see all the lights of the house go dark.

“Sarah?”

“Yes Davey?”

“Are they gonna hurt my mom and dad?”

“Not if I have anything to say about it.”

Before Davey could ask any more questions he heard a whining almost whistling sound that began low and increased in pitch then Sarah spoke again, ”Reactor online, Sensors online, Weapons online, all systems nominal. Davey, there is something else I should tell you.”

“What?” Davey’s mind already too wound up in how impossible this night had become.

“When I turned off all power to the house that released the containment field on the nanites you have been working on.”

“Oh frack, you mean I lost all of them?”

“No Davey, they are not lost. I have communication with them. In a few moments I should be able to give you a 3D image of everything inside the house. Lower your visor and I will replay the images to the HUD display in your helmet.”

Lowering the visor, Davey began to see a fuzzy image of his living room appear with four roughly shaped human figures. The image was in black and white and highly pixilated making it impossible for Davey to figure out who was who. Just as Davey was going to say something about the quality of the images, he could see the image was becoming more refined. Within moments it looked like he was watching a TV show on one of those old black and white televisions.

“Go to hell you bastard!” Davey’s mother screamed after she was shoved down to sit on the couch by a man in combat gear.

“Now Mrs. Wiley, is that anyway to speak to a man who is pointing a gun at your husband?” The man dressed in black combat fatigues and a ski mask holding her husband looked down where she had been forced to sit on their living room couch.

“Who in the hell do you think you are?” Davey’s father struggled against the man, trying to get the armed man’s attention away from his wife. You’re not MCO, are you Humanity first?”

“Who we are is none of your concern,” The man leered at Davey’s father, “The only thing you should be concerned with is the whereabouts of your son.”

“He’s not in his room?” Davey’s dad replied very sarcastically. The man brought the gun down across Davey’s father’s face hard knocking him unconscious to the floor.

“BASTARD!” Davey’s mother screamed.

Davey’s face grew red in anger as his mind raced to find a way to save his mom and dad. “Sarah, can we control my Solaris mechs from here?”

“Yes Davey. Which one do you wish me to bring on line?”

“I have an idea.” Davey had modified several of his toys with paintball guns after the accident, but there was a couple that his father still had in the garage that was ‘confiscated’ until Davey finished removing the rail guns from. Those had to say in the garage until his father inspected the modifications.

The Dashi or Direwolf as it was called was his largest one, standing just shy of four feet tall and weighing more than the boy. It also sported the largest of the railguns he had created for his ‘Solaris Games’ and Davey had not even begun to remove the rail guns from its robot chassis. The large robot was still locked away inside the attached garage. Davey’s father had unloaded the ammo bins, but it was impossible to get the ammo out of the tubes that fed the guns without either dissembling the robot or firing the weapons until empty.

A loud crash was heard from inside the garage. The main gunman looked at the other that had been quiet the whole time, “Go see what that is!” then almost as an afterthought, “Careful we want the boy alive.”

Davey’s mom began sobbing, knowing her son, who she had tried to give enough warning to get out of the house and run away, had only gotten himself caught.

Throwing the door open the man hesitated seeing the four foot tall robot that stood before him just inside the door he had opened. “What the f—” suddenly the man was lifted and thrown violently up and back into the ceiling. His dead body falling to a heap in the floor leaving a half inch hole and a large blood splatter in the ceiling where half inch steel ball bearing had exited through his back at hyper sonic velocity. The robot stepped up into the house as the man targeted Davey’s mother’s head, “I’ll kill her!” he shouted at the robot.

The robot’s arm seemed to flinch as it propelled another half inch steel ball of death straight into the man’s gun well above the speed of sound, tearing the gun and the man’s hand off at the wrist from the massive amount kinetic energy stored in the steel ball bearing. The impact spun the man away from the robot as a second steel ball punched through his back, the energy released from the projectile's speed of impact throwing the man across the room and into the wall, where his lifeless corpse slid down to the floor.

The other four assailants were still outside searching for the boy while a block away the sounds of a heated gun battle exploded in the night.

“Mom,” the sound of her son’s voice crackled through a speaker on the robot, “Stay here, there are at least four more looking for me, the robot will protect you.”

“Davey?”

“Yes mom?” the speaker cracked again.

“Are you ok?”

“I’m fine mom, I’m in my Bushwhacker.” Davey knew his mother would be worried about him and if he could not confirm to her that he was indeed somewhere these men could not touch him, she would not sit still. “Nothing short of an anti-tank rocket can touch me right now.” ‘But I can touch them,’ Davey thought as he cut the voice link to the robot. Realizing that there was one thing his mother could do to ensure her continued protection he opened the voice link again, ”Mom?”

“Yes dear.”

“I need you to do something,” not waiting for a reply the boy continued, “In the garage there is a clear plastic container in the cabinet dad had this robot locked up in it’s full of round steel balls. I need you to get the one with the dot four five marked on it and pour all of those in the ammo bin of the robot.”

“What are those honey?”

“The bullets the robot uses.”

“Oh.” His mother began to get up from the couch, “where do I put them in?”

“Right on top back where it has the dot four five written on it.”

His mother looked at the top of the robot as she began to walk by it, “Okay I see where they go. Please be careful.”

“I will mom.” Davey then cut the voice to the robot. “Sarah take over control of the Daishi. Shoot anything that comes near mom and dad that isn’t wearing a badge!”

“Aff!” Sarah replied using the slang from the game the miniature robots were designed from, “I’ll cut those freebirth to shreds!”

Davey grinned at Sarah’s use of BattleTech terms, “I think it’s time we took the Bushwhacker for a test drive.” Davey spoke to no one in particular as he brought the robot out of its crouched stance and began walking it forward to the barn door.

“Dave, we will have remain crouched to clear the barn doors without damaging them.” Sarah informed him over the headset.

“Aff.”

As the robot moved forward the tarp, caught on something, began to slide over and off the robots back revealing the giant robot in all its glory. The reversed knees of its mechanical legs gave it an ungainly waddle of a duck as it make its way out of the barn. Once Davey had cleared the doorway he then then allowed his massive robot its full height, just shy of 30 feet.

Davey spotted the glow of a fire down the street and could hear explosions from that direction, a few steps of his mech in that direction and he saw bullets ricocheting off the heavy armored cockpit glass. Twisting the mech’s torso to the left, Davey began to line up the PPC in the direction of the men firing at him, the HUD in his helmet painting the hostile targets in a red glow as he lined up his sights. Remembering what his father had taught him about guns Davey brought the multi-barreled railgun to bear on the two targets.

Davey’s father had drilled gun safety into his head from an early age. Davey could hear his father’s words in his mind, ‘Never point a gun at anything you do not intend to shoot. Never shoot at anything you do not intend to kill. And if you ever have to shoot, make sure it’s dead.’ Davey had determined to bring death to those men that would harm his family.

A thirty second burst that sounded more like thunder than a gun firing and the only thing left was a hole in the ground where the men had been.

Davey’s heads up display outlined another of the assailants in a red glow that was firing at his bushwhacker from behind a low rock wall. Another burst from the railgun into the wall destroyed that part of the wall and everything behind it. His HUD outlined the last of the men running away through the woods behind their yard. Davey looked back to the glow of the firefight in the distance.

Coming up behind a single story house Davey could see the scene of the fire over the roof of the house. Davey’s HUD began outlining men in both green and in red, behind the police he spotted what looked like it may have been a SWAT van. At least that what Davey thought the letters had once said on its side. Now it lay in its side on fire with a large hole torn in the side of the armored van.

“The police are taking heavy fire from that armored van,” Sarah informed him.

“We have to help them,” Davey told Sarah.

“The black van looks like the biggest problem,” Sarah stated.

Looking at the van Davey could see it had some type of remotely controlled minigun mounted on the roof, “If that is electronically or computer controlled our PPC will take it out of the fight and knock out whoever is controlling it.”

“It’s out of range.” Sarah informed.

‘Not for long!” Davey shouted in the confines of his cockpit, “Time for a little shock and awe!” he grinned as he pushed the bushwhacker into a slow run then hit a button that fired the jump jets.

Clearing the single story house that was between him and the fight, Davey targeted the van as his mech dropped toward the firefight in the street below. Firing before he landed.

“Death from Above!” Davey yelled as a ball of what appeared to be electricity left the right arm of the Bushwhacker and grew as it approached the black van until it was almost half the size of the van when it hit. The van lit up like the fourth of July in a display of lighting arcing around and over the van as the electrical energy released into the van, sparks and electrical arcs encompassing the van for a second before it found ground and dissipated. Everyone immediately stopped fighting and stared slack jawed at the giant robot that landed with enough force to cause several car alarms in the area to go off.

“Uh Sarah?”

“Yes Dave.”

“Can you make my voice come through the loud speaker sound like an adult?”

“You did not equip the Bushwhacker to do that Davey.”

“Oh frack!” Dave sighed.” Ok put me on the loudspeaker.”

“It’s on now.”

Dave tried to disguise his voice deeper, “Drop your weapons and move slowly towards the police with your hands above your head.” Davey watched everyone slowly began doing exactly what he had said as he reached forward and flipped the manual switch to cut the loud speaker.

“Try to look menacing.” Sarah instructed.

“I’m in a fracking Battlemech, isn’t that menacing enough?”

“Move the torso a bit like the mech is watching them. All they can see right now is a giant metal statue.”

“Ok I get it.”

“Shock and awe, shock and awe,” Sarah giggled softly in his headset.

~o~O~o~

“Look kid,” the heavy set cop that had been sitting across the table in the interrogation room for most of an hour said, “We know someone in your family drove that robot and it couldn’t have been your mom or dad, you even admitted to controlling the small one that killed those two in your house. Now listen you are not, I repeat you are NOT in trouble for what you did. It was self-defense pure and simple. But we need to know about the giant robot.”

“I’m sorry sir, the only ones I know about are my toy ones and that one I wasn’t allowed to play with because I made the weapons too powerful.”

“Yes your mother already told us that you were told to replace those, railguns with paint ball guns. What exactly is a railgun, sounds like science fiction to me?”

“Yes sir, but the Navy is experimenting with them too, so they are not science fiction any more. They use magnetism to propel a projectile at hypersonic speeds. No gunpowder, no shell casing. Mine are just scaled down versions of what the Navy has.”

“How did you get the design for one of these rail guns the Navy is testing?”

“I drew them myself.”

“Do you expect me to believe that you read about the Navy testing one of these and just sat down and drew up the plans for one of your own?”

“No, not exactly.”

“Then tell me how you got the plans for the Navy’s Buck Rogers gun?”

“I didn’t get their plans sir, they got mine.”

“What!”

“Yes sir, my mom sold them to the Navy.”

“This is ridiculous!” The heavy set man stood up and stormed out of the room.

Closing the door behind him, the detective walked the few steps down the hallway to the next door which he entered. The inside of this room almost a carbon copy of the one he had left, although missing the table in the center of the room and the two chairs.

“The kid’s telling you the truth about those fancy guns he has,” An older man standing in front of the one way mirror, his suit rumbled and tie loosened, turned his head toward the detective as he closed the door. “Read this,” the older man held a folder toward the detective.

“You’re telling me this kid has over 40 different patents?” the overweight detective looked up from the files he had looked through.

“It looks that way,” a balding man dressed in a similar cheap suit and tie said, “Wiley Enterprise holds the patents, the boy’s parents own the company.”

“Crap, I never put that together until now, They are THOSE Wiley’s!”

“Yes, that’s the one,” The balding man replied, “That company deals in allot of the bleeding edge military equipment the DOD is experimenting with.”

“So the assailants were after one of the Wiley’s inventions?”

“No, it appears they were after the kid.”

“That little kid, “the overweight man pointed through the one way glass toward the boy sitting at the table in the other room.

“From what we have found at the scene and what his parents have said so far, it appears the kid is responsible for all these inventions.”

“He looks like he is only nine of ten years old even though his file states he is almost fifteen.”

“Well they say that when you’re lacking in one area, the body makes up for it in others.” The balding man explained, “Like a blind guy whose hearing becomes extraordinary. How do you like that new body armor we got last year?”

“It’s great, Doug took a 38 to the chest during a robbery and never even knew it until someone noticed the hold in his shirt!”

“That boy invented it.”

“So the boy is a runt of the litter but has the brains of Einstein?”

“Something like that. “The balding man held out a folder, “He has also been a very sick child. Look at his medical records.”

“How’d you get a judge to sign off on getting those?” Taking the folder and began leafing through the many pages.

“I didn’t. His mother gave them to me.”

“Is this—” the man said stopping on one page.
“Yep.”

“Can’t doctors do something to fix that?”

“In most cases, yes. But in that kid’s case the docs think it would screw up his hormones worse than they are now.”

“Man, tough break!” as he looked though more of the pages in the thick file.

“So what do you say we cut the kid loose and give him a ride up to the hospital to be with his parents?”

“Yea, I’ll drive him up myself.” He handed the folder back to the balding detective. “Maybe he’ll slip and say something about that big assed robot on the way.”

“I doubt it,” the balding man chuckled, “I am sure he was the one piloting it, but I am betting we never find a trace of that Battlemech unless the kids lets us.”

“Battlemech? What in the hell is that?”

“Your giant robot,” the balding man replied, “that's what they are called, my grandson plays that game on the computer. Kids get together online and pretend to run these giant robots called Battlemechs. My grandson called me right after it happened, it was all over the news, damn reporters even got a video of the damn thing landing and taking out the bad guys. My grandson said it looked exactly like a Bushwhacker minus the missile rack.”

“Missile rack?”

“Thank god for small favors.”

“Why would you say that?”

“Did you see the damage in their backyard? I would hate to imagine what that thing could have done with missiles too!”

“No, I was up where the big fight took place.”

“So you saw him fire the PPC?”

“Yea, looked like the damn thing fired a ball of lightning at the van while it was still about thirty or forty feet up in the air coming down to land. Whole van lit up like the fourth of July with electricity all over it for a few seconds when it hit.”

“I think he used the other gun in the backyard.”

“Oh?” the pudgy man furled his eyebrows, “What did they find there?”

“Craters. “The balding man sighed, “Forensics is still out there scraping up the bits and pieces of whoever was after him.”

***

“You have no authority here!” The desk Sergeant spoke very loud to get everyone’s attention within ear shot. “We do not have any mutants in custody!” the desk Sergeant said to the man holding out a black folding wallet that contained a badge on one side and ID in the other as he typed on his computer.

“We just need to speak with the Wiley boy,” The dark suited man stated.

“Smart kid, but nothing about him even suggest mutant.”

“We’ll be the judge of that Sargent,” The black suited man flipped the wallet back closed and stuffed it in the breast pocket of his suit jacket.

“No you will not sir,” The desk Sargent glared at the man. “This is a police investigation. The MCO has no authority here.”

In the room with the one way glass the two men turned to look at the computer that had begun beeping. Bold letters started appearing on the monitor. ‘MCO HERE FOR THE BOY.’

Quickly the balding man stepped over and typed, ‘STALL’

“I’m sorry sir,” the desk Sergeant spoke, “May I see your ID again?” The man frowned but recovered the wallet from his pocket and flipped it open again. “Could you please remove it from your wallet?”

“Do you really think that is necessary Sargent?”

“Sorry sir, I’m just following orders,” The desk Sargent pointed at the computer screen. “Cap says to make a copy of your ID before escorting you down to interrogation.”

“Bout time someone got their head out of their ass around here!” The man removed his MCO ID and handed it to the desk Sargent, “that kid is dangerous.”

Taking the ID from the man, the desk Sargent walked over to the copy machine, which appeared to be giving him a lot of trouble…

“Ok get the kid out of here,” the balding man ordered, “Go through the courthouse tunnel, I’m sure they are watching our normal exits, they probably don’t know about the transfer tunnel.”

The transfer tunnel had been built years ago after a prisoner had escaped while being taken from the jail to the courthouse. When the new courthouse had been built, an underground tunnel had been created that connected the police station and its jail directly to the courthouse, so even if a prisoner did try manage to overpower his escort through the tunnel, he would have only two ways to go, both of which ended with armed officers with hair triggers. All work on the tunnel was covered up in paperwork showing it to be a water and sewer project for the new courthouse and all blueprints which are normally stored in county records were destroyed. If no one knew the tunnel existed, or exactly where it was located, the less likely someone could use it to escape.

“Leave your radio and phone here too,” The balding detective said, “That way they can’t use either to track you.”

“Give me as much time as you can,” The overweight detective stated as he opened the door to leave.

Poking his head in the room as he opened the door the pudgy detective waved to get Davey’s attention, “Come on kid we got to go.”

“Where we going?”

“Gonna take you to your mom and dad.”

Something sounded fishy to Davey, why was the cop that had grilled him for over an hour, then left him here for another unbearable amount of time suddenly in a hurry to take him home? Davey also realized the cop seemed nervous.

“What’s going on?” Davey asked, “I can smell a rat!”

“Ok,” the detective entered the room after looking behind him and closing the door, “Look I was about to come in here and take you to your parents when some high-falutin MCO guy came in asking about you.”

Davey’s eye grew wide. “M.C.O? I’m not, not a mutant am I?”

“No you’re not a mutant, at least I don’t think you are. Hell even if you were I wouldn’t hand you over to those jackasses, kids tend to disappear around them,” Davey felt his chest tighten hearing this. “Don’t worry kid we’re blowing this joint before they can get their claws into you. Look I know you’re bullshitting me about the robot, but you’ve been dealt a bum hand and I ain’t about to see it get any worse for you on my watch. So let's go!”

~O~
“Detective Langson,” he said as he guided the kid into the front passenger side of his personal car.

“What?” Davey was shaken out of his daze.

“My name,” he grinned as he rounded the car and got in the driver's seat. “Can’t having you calling me sir all the time can I?”

“Yes sir, I mean no sir.”

“Ok, I figure those MCO guy have the hospital and your house staked out, so we don’t want to go near either one of those places.”

Davey nodded.

“So I’m gonna take you to my sister’s place, she has a boy about your age, we can borrow some of his clothes for you. We can arrange for your parents to know that you are safe and laying low until those MCO guys find something better to do than sit around hoping you show up.”

“Ok,” Davey said just above a whisper.

"This is fan fiction for the Whateley Academy series. It may or may not match the timeline, characters, and continuity, but since it's fan fiction, who cares? To see the canon Whateley Stories, check out Whateley Academy at (http://whateleyacademy.net)"

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the Author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.