Nathan looked at me in disbelief.

  "I didn't recognise you before," he said.

  He was squinting behind his glasses.

  "It's me," I said.

  For some reason I felt the need to put my hands up as if I were under arrest.

  "You changed your whole face," said Nathan.

  He stepped closer.

  "Do this," he said.

  And he cupped his hands to his cheeks and pushed, giving himself a funny face that was heavy-cheeked like a pig.

  I cackled at the face he made.

  "I'm si-wi-ous," he mumbled.

  I cackled even harder, and then did as he asked.

  "Ah!" Nathan exclaimed when I mimicked the face he had made, "There are you, Burgess!"

  I dropped the face.

  "I didn't look that bad, mate," I said.

  "Yeah, right, sure," said Nathan.

  "I didn't, you twat!" I said.

  Nathan's smile lessened.

  "I didn't recognise you earlier," he said, "You know, when you introduced me to your new friends."

  I found it very hard to look him in the eyes all of a sudden.

  "Yeah," I said, "I wanted to tell you who I was. But I wanted to respect your wishes of not getting involved with any of this evacuation – MICE – stuff. They don't know that we're friends."

  And then, I added, "Best friends, I mean."

  "It was kind of obvious that you three were MICE," said Nathan, "You guys walked in looking like a bunch of well-fed Hollywood stars. But I didn't think for one second that you were – you."

  "Yeah," I said, "I've changed a lot."

  It started to rain, but only as a wispy, almost pleasant vapor. Nathan shivered where he stood.

  "Want to start walking?" he said, "You can tell me all about it. I just got to keep moving. It's so damn cold. You're not cold?"

  Nathan's gaze was calculating, and wary. I just shook my head, not really knowing what to say.

  And, just like all those other times we had walked the quiet streets of Lowems Park together, we set off down the road, in the opposite direction of my childhood home.

  It felt incredibly strange to walk beside Nathan, who had always been more or less my height, with him having become nearly a half a head shorter than me. Not only that, but he seemed skinnier, and less broad in comparison.

  But he's the normal one, I thought, I'm the freak.

  Nathan stopped when we reached the first street corner.

  It seemed like he had been working himself up to do something, but had only just found the momentum within himself to do it.

  "Sorry," he said, "I've missed you, man."

  He opened his arms and before I knew it we were bro-hugging. It lasted all of four seconds before we parted again.

  "Sorry," he said, again, "Didn't want you to think I'm not happy to see you're okay."

  "Same, man," I said, "I've been wondering how you've been. It was honestly quite a shock to see you at the church."

  "Yeah," said Nathan, "I must look a right state."

  "Nah," I said, "Not too bad."

  We continued along the street. The whole time I made sure to keep my senses heightened should any trouble come our way. As far as I could tell, things were just as quiet on this side of the black bench as they had been on the other side.

  We crossed over the rain slicked road to a pedestrian entrance to a huge supermarket. The pavement thinned, but given it was so deserted Nathan and I walked along a road leading up to the supermarket parking lot.

  Neither of us spoke, it seemed, because we both were finding it hard to even know where to begin talking about everything that had happened since we had last seen each other.

  We crossed the street again, and Nathan took off his glasses, wiped the rain droplets from them, and then put them into his coat pocket.

  "No point wearing them in this weather," he mumbled.

  The supermarket was lit like a beacon ahead of us, and there wasn't any sign of life within.

  Nathan suddenly grinned.

  "What?" I said.

  "So," he said, "How did getting evacuated turn out for you after – you know – I warned you against it?"

  I inhaled as much air as I could manage as if to buy myself some time to answer that question.

  "You can say it," I said, and then I exhaled the breath.

  "Say what?" said Nathan.

  "'I told you so'," I said.

  Instead of finding what I had just said amusing, Nathan just looked concerned.

  Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

  "No, man," he said, "At the time it seemed obvious to me what the right thing to do was, but it's not an 'I told you so' situation. The only thing I knew for sure was that I wasn't going to trust the government. And, correct me if I'm wrong, but I was right about that part – right?"

  "Yeah," I said, "You were right on the money."

  "So they made you do the treadmill thing too?" said Nathan.

  I nodded, "Yeah."

  "How long did you run for?" said Nathan.

  "About twelve hours or more," I said.

  Nathan whistled his mild-amazement.

  "When they made you run," I said, "On those different days. You're sure you couldn't keep going?"

  Nathan sniffed the cold air, and said, "I might have been able to."

  "You might have?" I said.

  There was an accusation in my tone.

  "I don't know," said Nathan, "Once I cottoned on that they were testing us - that it wasn't about trying to stop us from blowing up – and all that crap – then I decided to stop when it seemed like I had ran enough."

  "But you could have blown up," I said, "You still thought that was what might have happened if you stopped running on the treadmill, right?"

  "Yeah," said Nathan, "But during the first treadmill run they made me do on the first day, I sussed out that it was all a show for something else. And I already made up my mind that I wasn't interested in passing the treadmill test."

  Nathan noticed I was looking intently at him.

  "So I collapsed on the treadmill as convincingly as I could manage," he said, "And then I had to go sit on my own with the watch-device they put on us blinking red for several hours. And would you believe it, I didn't blow up."

  "So you do have the power?" I said.

  "I don't know," said Nathan, "I doubt it."

  "But it's easy to find out," I said, incredulously, "Just try and use it. It might be harder to find out if you're not used to tapping into it, but going on a long run should prove it."

  "Nah," said Nathan, "I'm good."

  I physically recoiled at Nathan saying this.

  "What do you mean, you're good?" I said, "Don't you care if you have the power?"

  Nathan, who up to this point in our conversation had seemed unsure of himself, suddenly became stoic, with that extra gleam in his eyes that showed up whenever he was going to be a real stick in the mud during one of our conversations.

  "It wouldn't matter to me if I did have this MICE power," said Nathan, "I wouldn't ever use it."

  "But mate," I said, urgently, "You're freezing right now. If you use the power then you could get warm."

  "I can handle being cold," said Nathan.

  "And you're hungry, I'm guessing?" I said.

  "I had a fair bit to eat at the church," said Nathan.

  "But you could have superpowers," I said, "How can you not want to know for sure if you have them?"

  Nathan sighed.

  "Burgess," he said, "If there's one thing I know for sure, it's this. If I have the power, I sure as heck would never, ever use it."

  The look on my face must have been priceless, because Nathan winced when he saw it.

  "No offense," he said.

  I had to take a moment to think about how I even felt about all this. Whilst I tried to self-reflect on the maelstrom of competing thoughts and emotions going on inside me, Nathan suddenly seemed to find his boots fascinating.

  Once I had gathered my thoughts enough, I said, "I've been through Hell, mate. It would have been a lot easier if I had someone I could trust helping me through it all."

  "Haven't you made new friends?" said Nathan.

  "Yeah," I said, "And they're great. I'd be dead right now if I hadn't met them."

  Nathan nodded, and then he said, "So what's happened since we last saw each other? Tell me as little or as much as you want."

  This was, obviously, a huge question to be asked. There was only one thing that made me hesitate telling him everything.

  "Are you sure you want to know?" I said, "Because if I tell you, there's a good chance you, and your family, will be in danger. Honestly, it's not even safe for you to be talking with me right now."

  "Sod all that," said Nathan, "Tell me whatever you want to tell me, mate."

  There was that same resolve in his eyes.

  "Okay," I said.

  And then, over the next few hours whilst we continued walking the deserted streets of Lowems Park, I told him everything which had happened to me since the night I was evacuated from my home in Ripperly.