[h2]Chad Belton: On the Move[/h2]
It was a couple of minutes after he left the house that Chad received Sheila’s text: [i]We have visitors. Don’t know how long they’re planning on staying, but I could use some help if you think you have the time. Let me know?[/i] “Help”, the code red phrase, not to mention the other coded messages. The base was under attack, then, and what good planning he’d engaged in: he had his Cape outfit on him, all folded up in his backpack. Why wouldn’t he? But, at this sort of time... was he truly needed? Maybe, maybe not... ah, but he couldn’t really. The teachers might be upset if he didn’t-

...no they wouldn’t. They barely noticed him to begin with, if at all. He was a good enough student, and that was all they cared about. Not teaching him anything new, not helping protect him from the bullying he’d suffered, not fucking giving him any sort of helping hand, but maybe he’d bite it off anyway of they did, then start shredding the arm connected to it, let their blood pour out and the muscle and cartilage fly all over the ground-

‘Yeah, I’ve got time,’ he murmured to himself, sending back a text to Sheila specifically: [i]I can make it.[/i] He always tended to leave a little early... a lot early anyway, so if he went at a moderate jog the whole way there, and back afterwards, he could probably make it into his first class in good time, even if he had to change. And he would, of course. Could just put the firefighter stuff over his school uniform... yeah, yeah that’d work out.

Moderate jog, then. He trained, he was fit enough to handle that. He recalled the building, figured out the route from where he was in his mind, and began to move toward the HQ. He’d stop off a few minutes away just to change into costume, and then... whatever needed helping with, he'd help with.