Chapter 2

Tyler's eyes blink open and he experiences a moment of disorientation. Every muscle in his body feels like it has a cramp, his left ankle is throbbing, his stomach is growling louder than his alter ego, and he can't remember where he is or how he got here. It's not the first time he's woken up in pain with no idea what happened, but he's still got his clothes on, so he figures this isn't a Hyde thing. He blinks and tries to focus, but something is obstructing his vision. He paws at the object, only to be met by the feel of a cold clammy hand lying on his cheek with the fingers dangling over his nose and in front of his eyes. He freaks and slaps the startling object off his face and into the dashboard without thinking. Now able to see, his eyes settle on Wednesday in the driver's seat next to him, smirking, and everything comes back to him in a flash.

"I did warn you." Wednesday snarks before turning her attention back to the road.

Tyler sits up, adjusts his seat back, and reaches down to give Thing a hand up from where he landed on the foot well. "Sorry about that. You just startled me."

The hand tentatively crawls onto Tyler's outstretched palm. Tyler lifts him to the top of the dashboard and Thing clambers onto it. He looks a bit unsteady on his fingers, but shakes it off and gives a little shift of his knuckles that Tyler interprets as, "No worries. We're good."

A look out the window shows a foggy sunrise just beginning over a late fall landscape of pines trees and barren deciduous trees. Some quaint little New England or upstate New York looking town is off in the distance. "Where are we?" Tyler asks.

"Just outside Poughkeepsie." Wednesday answers. "You slept for about four and a half hours."

"Ok." He's confused. "Why are we going south? I assumed we'd head for Canada. Isn't that what they always do in movies? Try to make it across the border?"

Wednesday looks annoyed. "Because in the real world, an inspection at a heavily patrolled international border crossing when we have no passports or documentation and a wanted fugitive in the passenger seat will definitely go well."

"You might have a point." Tyler cedes. "So where are we going?"

"Florida. The Florida Everglades, to be precise."

"I guess that's a choice..." He doesn't seem thrilled at the prospect. "Isn't that where they have all those pythons that took over after people let their pets loose, and now they eat crocodiles and shit?"

"They eat alligators. And the alligators eat them. It's an ecosystem based entirely around an abundance of apex predators." She gives him a look he can't interpret. "You should fit right in."

Tyler feels about as far from apex predator right now as possible. Road kill would be a much more appropriate comparison at the moment. He should probably tell her that the monster has gone dormant or whatever, because he doesn't like his odds of surviving on his own in a reptile riddled swamp without preternatural assistance.

Before he can speak up, she continues. "It's also where my Uncle Fester spends his winters. He has agreed to provide you refuge until the media attention and public scrutiny around your case die down."

"This is the uncle I met, right? The one that also robs banks? And really likes ketchup..." He shakes his head at the memory.

"Correct. Typically Uncle Fester prefers to live and work alone, but he is willing to do this as a favor to me. And there are occasions where he could use some assistance in his criminal endeavors."

"So now I'm supposed to live in a swamp and become a bank robber?" Tyler's not loving the sound of his prospects.

"How did you think this was going to turn out?" Wednesday asks. "You did actually kill six people. You and I know you weren't technically in control of your body when it happened, but as being a Hyde is not a recognized psychological condition in the DSM-5, the best you could have hoped for via the court system was a lifelong internment at a maximum security psychiatric facility." She gives him a disappointed look. "Did you think that with Laurel dead, everyone would just forgive and forget? That maybe you'd come to Nevermore like any other outcast? Win the Poe Cup next year then head off to college?"

"I hadn't really thought about it." He mutters dejectedly.

Wednesday's countenance softens slightly. "Any chance you had at a normal life was destroyed the minute Laurel Gates realized you were a Hyde."

He'd felt like his life was out of his control for a long time, even before Laurel. Going all the way back to the stuff with his mom, even. Why would his future be any different. "I guess I know that it won't really help, but would you mind telling that to my dad at some point? Maybe he'll call off, or at least dial back the hunt if he knows it wasn't all my fault." Tyler feels miserable, and doesn't try to hide it.

"I already told him." Wednesday admits cautiously. "Who do you think let me in to see the body? He was there when I had the vision."

"What did he say when you told him?" If his father had known everything from shortly after the time he was busting out of the armored transport, why had the pursuit been so brutal for days after?

"He said that my visions weren't evidence, and that in the eyes of the law you would still need to be held accountable for what you did."

"That sounds like him. If slightly more calm and rational than usual."

Wednesday scowls before adding, "He then muttered that he 'can't deal with this shit again', and as far as he was concerned, 'From here on out, the only good Hyde is a dead Hyde."

"That's more like it." Tyler shakes his head.

It's quiet in the car for a minute before Wednesday speaks again. "I know your relationship with your father has always been... contentious, but I imagine that was still difficult to hear."

"I'm not even surprised." Tyler admits sadly. "I wish I was, but I've gotten used to it. Probably a good outlook to have, because I never got the impression that things end well for people like me."

"My research into Hydes has produced similar conclusions." She might be trying to sound clinically detached, but Tyler can hear the trace of sadness in her voice she probably thinks she's hiding.

Tyler can't stand the idea that she might feel pity for him after everything that has happened, so he tries to force the conversation in another direction. "So, in the grand scheme of things, becoming a notorious crime lord in sunny south Florida might not be too bad of a gig. It will definitely beat taking coffee orders from pretentious hipsters and under-caffeinated douche bags."

"You really have nowhere to go but up." She nods at him in agreement.

His stomach chooses that moment to growl loud enough that everyone in the car can hear it.

"We have to stop for gas soon. Can you wait another fifteen minutes to get something to eat? I'd rather not risk making multiple stops until we're further from your last known location." She's being logical, as always.

"Yeah. I'll be fine." It's been four days since he's had anything to eat, another fifteen minutes won't make any difference.

At this exchange, Thing pops up and points an excited finger in the air, kind of an "ah ha!" gesture. He then scales down the front of the dashboard and grabs the handle to the glove box. The edge of it hits Tyler's knees as the disembodied appendage dives in, shuffles between registration papers, owners' manuals, and unused fast food napkins to emerge holding a somewhat crushed granola bar.

"Thanks." Tyler accepts it with some skepticism. The snack bar looks like it is well past its prime, but then his stomach grumbles again and he decides, what the fuck, right. He rips open the faded wrapper and bites into what the packaging claimed to be "oats and honey". Cardboard and Gorilla Glue would be a more appropriate description, but he manages to chew the wad of material in his mouth enough to swallow it. His stomach registers instant disapproval, but he keeps it down and forces himself to eat the rest of the bar.

A few minutes later, Wednesday switches into the right hand lane and Tyler recognizes the large green sign announcing the gas station and amenities available at the upcoming exit. A solitary gas station appears to be this rural one horse town's only attraction. A Taco Bell had clearly been too much to hope for.

As they approach the exit, Wednesday issues instructions. "You should stay in the car while I get the gas. Then we will go into the store together. The less time you are exposed and visible, the better. Thing, you stay and guard the car." Tyler and Thing both nod at their orders.

They pull into the station and Wednesday puts the car into park next to one of the pumps. They are the only car in the lot, and everything seems quiet as she turns the vehicle off. She fills the tank without incident and starts to walk toward the convenience store. Tyler opens the door to get out and follow, but nearly topples out instead. Days of overexertion followed by trying to sleep in the car have left his leg muscles protesting, and his injured ankle can barely hold his weight. Wednesday turns around to see what is taking him so long and looks annoyed. He forces his limbs to work again and eventually makes it across the parking lot.

Tyler opens the glass door and walks in to find a sight he did not expect. Wednesday is standing by the swiveling rack of imitation designer sunglasses, using the little mirror to inspect how her reflection looks in a pair with retro oversized movie star lenses. "Not exactly your usual style." He smirks as he walks up behind her. She turns and places a pair of aviator sunglasses on his face. A look in the mirror confirms his suspicion that he looks ridiculous. He pulls them off and reaches for a more subtle pair. He tries on some plastic horned rimmed glasses and thinks they actually don't look half bad.

"You're getting the other pair." Her voice suggests this is not optional.

He gives her a confused look. She was the last girl on Earth he expected to have a Top Gun fetish.

He can't see it because the sunglasses she's wearing cover almost two thirds of her face, but he is certain she just rolled her eyes at him. "The bigger lenses will do a better job obfuscating facial recognition software, should we be caught on any traffic cameras."

"Oh. Good idea." He tosses the glasses into the shopping basket she picked up and follows her deeper into the small store. It's one of those little mom and pop convenience stores, not the giant corporate travel centers. There are no options for fresh or hot food. Tyler is not willing to dignify the desiccated room temperature objects on the hot lamp roller thing by considering them to be hot dogs. It takes a minute before he realizes that while he's been lazily perusing the small rack of Poughkeepsie tchotchkes at the front of the store like an idiot tourist, Wednesday has been systematically winding her way through the store picking up essential supplies. He decides to get his ass in gear and goes to grab a few drinks.

Tyler barely registers the tinkle of the little bell above the front door as he internally debates the merits of Mountain Dew versus cherry Coke. As soon as he turns around, cherry Coke in hand, he definitely registers Wednesday quickly getting far too into his personal space. He steps back in surprise, and slams into the glass door of the cooler behind him.

"Kiss me." She commands.

Tyler gives her a very concerned raised eyebrow.

"Do it now." Her tone leaves no room for dissent.

He leans down and tentatively brings his lips to hers. Without warning, his mouth is all but devoured. Her hands cup his cheeks and keep his face pulled down against her, as her tongue invades his mouth. The kiss is brutal in its ferocity, and he can't help but start to reciprocate the effort. He can't breathe, he can't think, all he can do is try to keep up as Wednesday shoves him back harder against the drink case. He feels the cold seeping through the glass and his threadbare t shirt, penetrating his skin. It's a shocking contrast to every other part of him that feels like it is ready to combust at any moment. She's hooking her knee over his hip now and he drops the soda in his hand to grab at her waist. The plastic bottle goes skittering across the linoleum as he pulls her even closer against him. It's primal animal instincts that have nothing to do with the monster still slumbering inside him. He has no idea what triggered this, and he doesn't care. Every petite curve of her body fits against him like they are two broken pieces of the same dark object, and he wants nothing more than to make them whole again.

His body is starving for oxygen and straining against the clothing between them in all the inappropriate places, as she just keeps kissing him. He definitely doesn't notice the bell over the door jingle this time, but he can't miss her suddenly pulling away from him. The unexpected absence of physical contact leaves him disoriented and he looks around trying to figure out what the hell just happened.

Wednesday's focus is laser sharp and directed out the front window at the pair of police officers getting back into their patrol car.

"I don't think they recognized you." She monotones as the car pulls away.

"What... was that?" Tyler pants as Wednesday picks up the shopping basket and returns to casually perusing the snack aisle.

"Subterfuge." She answers, inspecting the sell by date on the bottom of a Twinkie package. Seeing that it is still in date, she replaces it on the shelf.

"Huh?" Words are not his friend at the moment as his brain is stuck in some kind of blue screen reboot mode.

Sighing as if she should not be having to explain this to a seasoned criminal, she points out, "The BOLO on you is for a young male traveling alone. Those cops clocked you as soon as they walked in."

"So dry humping me in the soda aisle seemed like an appropriate response?"

She rolls her eyes. "Making you appear to be a young male with a companion removed you from their radar. And people are conditioned to look away from others engaging in acts of a sexual nature. It kept them from looking too closely and recognizing you."

"That's... very rational." He's pretty sure he hides his disappointment from his voice.

"Let's get out of here before anyone else shows up." She shakes her head at him and turns to toward the front of the store. He can't see the wicked grin plastered on her face.

Her expression is back to stoic as they approach the disinterested teenager manning the cash register. He's so absorbed in whatever is on his phone that he probably wouldn't even notice if they just walked out. Wednesday pays cash for the gas and snacks, and they make it uneventfully back to the car. Thing looks to be in a near panic as they arrive and get back into their seats.

"It was fine." Wednesday attempts to assuage her anxious little sidekick. "I saw them coming a mile away. We were never in any danger."

Thing quickly signs something that Tyler can't make out.

"We hid in plain sight." Wednesday responds. "I know what I'm doing. Give me some credit." She pulls the car back onto the road.

Thing looks back and forth between Wednesday and Tyler a few times before slowly and intentionally turning his attention to Tyler's face. He is busy shoving a whole hand full of beef jerky into his mouth, but freezes under the hand's intense stare. Which feels really weird because Thing doesn't even have eyes. But yeah, he is definitely staring at Tyler extra suspiciously. "What?" Tyler asks around the mouth full of dehydrated meat.

Thing's glare intensifies.

Tyler swallows the jerky, but doesn't say anything. The reanimated appendage clearly knows he just made out with Wednesday and does not approve.

"Enough." Wednesday chides the hand.

Thing responds by turning away from Tyler and finding a nice warm spot in the sun on the dash. He settles down but then turns slightly. He's obviously keeping one eye on Tyler. Which, Tyler realizes, is made all the more intimidating by the fact that he doesn't actually have eyes.

Tyler lets out a deep sigh. This is going to be a long drive.