It took them another two days to reach Oregon. According to a local radio station, it was Thursday. They were just a few days away from Christmas. Oscar could've come up with a wishlist as long as a roll of toilet paper, but the thing he wanted the most wouldn't fit under a tree.

His fingers gripped the worn leather steering wheel as he cruised carefully through the familiar streets of downtown Portland. The Acropolis was just a few miles west outside the city. Soon, the towering buildings of the vibrant, bustling metropolis gave way to tall pine trees and dense shrubbery.

The sun was setting rapidly. Oscar cut on the Mustang's headlights. The lack of lights in the forests of Oregon meant he'd be driving through straight pitch. Even with the bright rays pouring from the front of his vehicle, he could barely see more than a few yards ahead of him.

He wasn't exactly sure how to get to The Acropolis, as it didn't show up on most maps and he didn't have the route memorized. But he knew its general location. Once he got close enough he would know.

As he continued driving, navigating the tricky dirt roads winding through the towering trees, he thought about what he would do once he arrived. He didn't have the slightest clue on how to get inside. His plan was pretty much nonexistent. His lust for revenge had inspired most of his actions thus far.

He had been acting on impulse. Emotion. No careful thought had been put into his movements.

Chase's help would've been incredibly useful right about now.

Snorting, he shook the thought out his head. Chase might've been a master strategist, but he was also a coward. He and his followers had spent the last three years hiding away like rodents in a sewer. While they hid, Atlas took over.

They were weak.

Oscar wasn't.

While he didn't have a plan, he knew wouldn't need one. He had Xiomara at his side. The two of them could accomplish anything together.

Oscar took a peek at Xiomara. She was wide awake this time, her bright eyes glued to the star-filled sky above. Her leg bounced rapidly as she tapped her fingers against her thigh.

"Nervous?"

She shook her head. "Excited."

A smile grabbed his mouth. "Me too."

They continued driving forward through the forest. As he approached a hill, his eyes flickered to the gas meter. His heart stopped.

Uh oh.

The light had been blinking for the last thirty minutes. He knew he should've stopped for gas, but with Atlas' presence being greater in the city and their faces likely plastered across every screen in the nation, he couldn't afford to stop again.

But now he was running the risk of being stranded. At night. In the middle of the woods. Shuddering, he tightened his grip around the steering wheel and willed the Mustang to climb the hill. The engine trembled and stuttered. Seconds later he heard something groan from beneath the hood.

"C'mon," he mumbled, pressing his foot harder on the gas pedal. "C'mon, don't quit on me now."

The wheels slowly came to a stop just as he reached the top. The engine sputtered for a few more moments before going completely dead. Shortly after, the lights cut off. The car was dead.

Fully submerged in the darkness around them, Oscar slammed his hands against the dashboard and pressed his face into the steering wheel. His nose accidentally hit the horn, causing the blaring sound to rip through the night. Jolting up, he quickly scanned the area around them.

He wasn't sure what the wildlife was like in Oregon, but he didn't need a pack of wolves—or, worse, a grizzly bear—rolling up on them. Though, he was sure he could take them if he had to.

Xiomara turned to him, her lips pressed in a tight line. Her brows were furrowed and an unimpressed expression had settled on her face.

"What?" He rolled his eyes at her. "Don't look at me like that. I couldn't stop for gas."

"Yes, you could."

"No," he repeated, "I couldn't. Not sure if you noticed, but we're wanted. By la policia."

Huffing, she turned and folded her arms.

Oscar ignored her. She would get over it. Besides, her attitude was the least of his problems. He needed to figure out where they were going to sleep for the night.

The car wasn't a bad shout. It was the safest option. But with no light or battery life, he wasn't sure how they'd fare against the drop in temperature that was certain to come. He knew all too well how cold the mountains of Portland could get in the winter.

Coming from Los Angeles, he wasn't dressed in the heftiest garments. Neither was Xiomara. They both were underdressed to even step out of the car. Nodding to himself, he decided they wouldn't.

The backseat had enough space for Xiomara to lay down. He would stay in the front seat—watching through the shadows for anything creeping up on them. He wasn't too worried about Atlas. After all, they didn't know he was coming. Why would they be combing through the forests?

"We'll stay in here for the night," he told the girl. He gestured toward the backseat. "You sleep there. I'll sleep up here."

"And tomorrow?"

"We'll worry about tomorrow when it comes."

She shook her head. "No gas. No drive."

"Yes, I know how a car works, Xio."

Rolling her eyes, she climbed into the backseat. Once she was settled in, she reached back into the front seat and grabbed what was left of their stolen snacks. Oscar made a face at her before turning his attention back to the wilderness around them.

The angry, December wind slammed against the windows and rocked the car as if they were a boat in the middle of the sea. His heart rate jumped as he waited for it to die down. Looking up to the sky, he cursed whoever was causing the wind. If it was God, then the deity had a screwed sense of humor.

Within seconds, the inside of the car began to feel like a freezer. Teeth chattering, Oscar rubbed his hands together and blew air into his palms. Out the corner of his eye, he could see Xiomara curled up in the corner of the seat with her arms wrapped around her legs.

He pulled off his jacket and tossed it at her. "Here."

"Gracias."

"De nada."

Shivering, Oscar sunk deeper into his seat. The leaves of the trees outside swayed in the speeding wind, obscuring his view of the black sky. He squeezed his eyes shut and willed his body temperature to rise. He had held off on doing so out of respect for Sister Maria's car, but he couldn't bear the cold any longer.

Warmth spread across his body, starting from his chest and expanding outwards. Steam rose from his greasy hair and began to fog up the windows. It only took a few seconds to vanquish the cold that had been seeping into the dead vehicle.

Though, he had a feeling the leather of his seat would suffer as a result.

I'll get it fixed, hermana. Don't you worry.

He was the guardian of her Mustang now that she was gone. It was up to him to make sure nothing happened to it. His gaze flickered over to Xiomara for a split second. She had sprawled out along the seats, his jacket rolled into a makeshift pillow under her head. She was fast asleep now.

It was up to him to take care of her too.

Exhaling, he reclined his seat and closed his eyes.

He didn't know what tomorrow would bring. But like he told Xiomara, they would deal with it when it came.

#

A strong blast of wind rifled through the pine needles spanning for the next few miles in either direction around the red Mustang in the middle of the Oregon forest. The sky, which had been the deepest shade of black hours before, was giving way to muted shades of blue and orange of the dawn. The faintest hints of the sunrise stretched across the horizon, banishing the darkness. The moon faded from view, soon to be replaced by the morning sun.

Oscar awoke with a start. His chest pounded in his chest. He wiped his face. It was slick with sweat and a line of drool trickled down the side of his mouth.

His frantic eyes squinted out the windshield of the car. He watched how the treeline above moved and swayed. It wasn't natural; not in the slightest.

He froze.

Jaegers.

One of their warships had to have been landing nearby. While he couldn't see it, he could hear it. He wasn't exactly sure where it was relative to where he and Xiomara were, but he wasn't planning on sticking around to find out.

"Xiomara," he said, turning in his seat to prod her shoulder, "Xiomara, wake up."

She shot up, her amber irises filled with panic. The girl pressed her body into the backseat and held her hands out in front of her. Her palms glowed red before returning to their normal color.

"Relax," he told her, softening his voice. "It's just me."

Nodding, she apologized and slowed her choppy breathing. After a few seconds, she glanced out the window and at the sky. Then she scowled and rubbed her tired eyes.

"Why?"

He pointed at the trees, which were beginning to settle down now. "Something just landed. We need to move."

"Move?" She gestured at the dashboard. "No gas. No drive."

"Yeah, yeah." He rolled his eyes and got out of the car.

The air was just as chilly as it was last night, but it was slightly more bearable. He conjured up a plume of fire in his palm to help warm himself up. It only did so much.

A thin layer of ice had coated the grass below. The rubber of the Mustang's tires was flaked with ice crystals. Parts of them seemed to be stuck to the podzol below. He pursed his lips as he crouched near the rear wheels.

Having no gas was one thing. But having tires that weren't equipped for the icy terrain? That was another, much trickier, issue. Even if he managed to find fuel for the car, there was no guarantee he'd be able to navigate through the woods safely.

He exhaled and watched his warm breath condense in the air.

Xiomara joined him outside with his jacket draped around her arms. It hung around her like a raincoat meant for a much taller person. Oscar might've been on the shorter side, but Xiomara was even smaller. The eleven-year-old barely cleared the five-foot mark.

She peered down at the tires.

"Frozen."

"Yep."

She pointed her palms at the stiff wheels. Waves of heat poured from her skin and permeated the air. Oscar could feel the warmth spreading across his body as he remained crouched beside her. He still wasn't quite sure how she had discovered that particular ability. He wondered if it had been the first one she developed on her own.

Her powers were nowhere near his level, but she already had skills he hadn't taken the time to flesh out yet. Heat manipulation was an untapped avenue for him. For her, it seemed to be one of her affinities.

They might have been extremely similar, but they were still different in several ways.

Within seconds, Xiomara had melted the snow and ice from their vehicle's tires. The white coating of the grass around them had vanished, giving way to damp grass. She turned to Oscar and flashed a boastful smile.

He ruffled her hair as he stood up. "Nice one, Xio."

"Gracias."

Oscar turned his attention back to the sky. There was no sign of the Atlas aircraft, but he knew it was out there somewhere. Agents would surely be moving through the trees, stealthily making their way toward them. He scanned the forest, looking out for any laser dot sights pouring from the cover of the foliage.

There was nothing.

In fact, the trees had stopped rustling. The wind had stopped. All he could hear was his own breathing.

His forehead creased as he kept his stare fixed on the treeline.

Weird...

Xiomara tugged his hand. He glanced down at her, his eyebrow lifted.

"We stay?"

"I'm not sure..." He scratched the top of his head. "Might've just been a false alarm—"

Voices. To his left.

He stiffened. His fingers instinctively tightened around Xiomara's. Whipping his head around, he squinted in the direction the sound came from. They weren't far away. He didn't recognize the voices, and he didn't want to.

"We'll come back for the car," he told Xiomara. "Time to go."

Sharing a nod, the two of them took off sprinting away from the approaching voices.

As they ran, the voices shouted behind them. They didn't sound harsh and threatening like Jaegers or Atlas agents, but he wasn't going to stop running because of that. It could've been a tactic to lull them into a false sense of security.

He wouldn't let them get captured. Not here, not now. Not when they were so close.

With Xiomara only a few steps behind him, he bounded over gnarled tree roots, shrubs, and the odd fallen log. Birds took to the skies to get out of their way. They cawed as they flew upward, their wings flapping in the cold, morning air.

Breathing heavily, Oscar pushed himself further. He glanced over his shoulder.

A few blurry figures were in hot pursuit. They were gaining fast.

His heart climbed into his throat. He snatched Xiomara's hand. She cried out in surprise—possibly in pain too—as he tugged her along.

They couldn't get caught. They couldn't.

Wheezing now, Oscar led them through the woodland labyrinth. Through the early morning fog hanging in the air, he could see a cliff wall approaching. Vines scaled the rocky, beige surface and stray branches from nearby trees brushed along the edge. As they got closer, Oscar got an idea.

He checked over his shoulder again.

They wouldn't have much time. There would be no room for error.

Shaking his head, he continued forward, his chest pumping quicker than a sprinting cheetah hopped up on multiple energy drinks.

"Climb!" Oscar shouted as they reached the base of the rock wall.

Xiomara sprang forward, lifting off a couple of feet off the ground before latching onto a set of thick, crisscrossing vines. She scaled them like a professional. It was almost like she had done it a million times before.

Then again, she was from a rough neighborhood in El Salvador. For all he knew, she had.

He didn't have time to marvel at her agility, though.

Their pursuers were closing in.

Gulping, he grabbed a vine and began his ascent. After just a few seconds of climbing, his hands were covered in tiny cuts and dripping with sweat. Even more poured down his face as his arms shook. He was about a dozen feet off the ground now. Too high to quit but too far away from safety. Xiomara was already nearing the top of the wall.

Trembling slightly, Oscar stole a glance below him. His assailants had congregated near the base of the cliff. They weren't climbing after him. They weren't even dressed like Jaegers or Atlas agents. They donned black tactical mission suits emblazoned with colorful, glowing lines.

His eyes widened.

They weren't Jaegers. Nor were they Atlas agents.

He knew exactly who they were.

Jaw clenched, he turned his head and continued climbing. He felt rage bubbling in his chest. He used to fuel his climb. He needed to get to the top. Once he did, he would be in the clear.

All he had to do was—

A ripping sound broke his concentration. The vine his hand was coiled around had snapped. His eyes widened.

Uh oh.

He was in freefall now. For a moment, he felt like he was flying. But it only lasted for a moment.

His back hit the ground with a crunching thud. Snapped twigs and crushed leaves dug into his clothes and exposed skin as he rolled around in pain. His back wasn't broken, but it certainly felt like it was. Stars swam in his vision. He coughed, his lungs struggling to take in new air.

As he writhed around on the forest floor, he heard multiple sets of footsteps approaching him from all sides. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Xiomara standing at the top of the cliff. She stared down at him, mouth agape and eyes wide.

He tried reaching out toward her. He could barely lift his arm off the floor.

"That was a nasty fall, man. You okay, Oz?"

"He freaking ate it. Funniest thing I've seen all day."

"Hey, knock it off. He's right in front of us."

"That just makes it funnier..."

Oscar tensed as the voices got closer. He wanted to move, to move away from them, but his body had other plans. So, he remained on the ground with a sneer on his lips and his eyes narrowed into thin, angry slits.

This time, he recognized the voices.

He sorely wished he didn't.