#mr.block

He carefully pried the nearest door open, slipping inside. His eyes took a moment to adjust to the darkness, but he could make out the faint outlines of several crates. 

But no Milo or Martin. 

Balthazar turned to leave when he stepped on something smooth. He bent down to pick it up, feeling the cylindrical object. 

His blood ran cold. 

A stick of dynamite. 

They were planning to blow them up. 

Block didn’t care about Milo serving as a human test subject anymore. He had served his purpose. Now all that remained was the disposal. 

Forget stealth. It was far too slow. He had to charge into wherever Martin and Milo were and get them to safety now. 

His heart pounding, he ran for the door. He didn’t know where his feet were taking him, but surely he would stumble into the location where they were being held hostage.

Then something clamped onto Balthazar’s arm, long nails digging into his skin. He heard a quiet click, followed by something hard pressing into his spine. 

For a moment, Balthazar thought he’d picked a boat that was full of opportunistic muggers. 

“Hands up and walk,” a cold, unfamiliar voice grunted. “Back of the boat. Start moving, traitor.” 

Balthazar obeyed, putting his trembling hands up. He didn’t dare sneak a glance at whoever was behind him. The gun jabbed into his back multiple times, the man seeming to take a sick pleasure at his discomfort. 

The boat bobbed slightly as he obeyed the man behind him. It almost made him seasickness. Briefly he entertained the thought of vomiting on the man behind him, grabbing the Murphys, and escaping unscathed. 

It was stupid, but surely anything was better than nothing. 

But they arrived at the back of the boat before he could come up with a different plan. 

Martin’s hands were cuffed to the railing, while Milo’s legs were bound with rope. They called out for help through their gags upon seeing him, though their hopes were dashed when they saw the gun pointed into his back.

Then the pressure was gone. His relief was short-lived, since he was roughly shoved to the deck in front of Milo and Martin. Groaning, Balthazar sat up, his eyes widening in horror when he saw the man who brutalized him. 

Worse, the man who’d been ordered to murder him on the Golden Gate Bridge. 

And now Milo was in his clutches. 

“Where’s Block?” Balthazar demanded. 

Red looked down at him, uninterested. “Finishing with the setup. He’ll be here soon. You’ll have a few moments to talk before your demise.” 

And they were left alone on the edge of the boat, waiting for death. 

Balthazar looked down at the small bump where his watch was hidden. It ticked quietly as always. 

He removed the gags from his companions’ mouths. 

Milo threw himself into Balthazar, hugging him tightly. “Milo, I’m sorry about everything,” he whispered. 

“It’s okay, I forgive you,” Milo said simply. “Dakota and I were worried about you though.” 

It was odd to hear that someone didn’t hold a grudge towards him for a mistake, or not get mad at all. 

Milo truly was a strange boy. 

“I’m alright, but we need to get out of here,” Balthazar said, deciding that the emotional stuff could happen at a time when their lives weren’t in danger. “Before the boat blows up.” 

Martin chuckled. “Does seem to happen a lot when I’m on them.” 

Balthazar quickly undid Martin’s cuffs, then started cutting through the rope around Milo’s legs with a pocket knife. 

Once they were free, Balthazar helped them to their feet. “Come on, let’s leave before-” 

“Before I show up?” someone grunted. 

Mr. Block coldly stared them down from the upper deck. 

“Run!” Balthazar yelled. “Other side!” 

Martin pushed Milo ahead of him, hoping to at least secure freedom for his son. But Red suddenly blocked the path, and Milo crashed into him. Red swiftly recovered, then picked Milo up by his collar and lifted him into the air. 

“Milo!” Martin yelled. His face contorted in rage. “Let go of my son!” 

He rushed towards Red with his fists outstretched, but Red simply stuck his leg out, tripping Martin. He slammed into the wall, dazed but not quite ready to give up yet. 

Block watched the one-sided fight unfold with no emotion. “Tire him out,” he ordered. Red nodded, punching Martin in the face. The battle moved towards the side of the boat, where the walkway was much narrower. 

Block regarded the fight with little emotion, moving to the side to watch. 

He had to strike now. 

Balthazar charged up the stairs, tackling Block from behind. Block screeched, whirling around to throw him off. But he clung on tightly, finally managing to dig his knee into Block’s spine. 

“Always relied on others for your dirty work!” Balthazar growled, pushing his knee deeper. This was for all the pain he endured under his tyranny, all the fear that he would steal Milo and lock him away from the world. 

“Funny. You just mooched off everyone around you!” Block finally threw him off, delivering a sharp kick into Balthazar’s side. 

Balthazar groaned, clutching his side. He gritted his teeth. Block was not going to have the satisfaction of defeating him. 

Ignoring the throbbing pain, he snagged Block’s shirt and tried to push him down the stairs. Block lost balance, then he grabbed Balthazar’s leg in an attempt to right himself, and they tumbled down the staircase together, punching any available part they could reach. 

He rubbed his jaw where he’d taken an enormous blow that left him momentarily disoriented. Then a weight knocked into him as he tried to stand. 

Martin had bruises everywhere, and he was breathing heavily. His opponent far outmatched him. Red threw Milo at them, and Martin and Balthazar quickly caught the boy before his head smashed into the deck. His eyes were closed. Milo had been knocked unconscious somewhere in the fight. 

Then he saw the match in Red’s hand. 

He was standing next to the room filled with explosives. 

His face was cold, expressionless. There wasn’t a trace of humanity left in his dark eyes. 

Block stood up to join him, only to suddenly collapse. His leg was twisted at an unnatural angle. Red had no qualms about killing his own boss either. 

Red tossed the match and fled. 

“To the water!” Martin shouted. “I’ll take Milo.” 

Despite his injuries, he managed to climb over the railing and jump into the murky water below. Loud hissing filled the air, and Balthazar wasted no time in going overboard. 

For a moment, everything was dark. Then Balthazar surfaced, quickly taking off the watch and holding it out of the water so it wouldn’t get waterlogged. He swam away quickly, praying for just a little more time. 

The boat exploded with a deafening boom, sending debris sky high. Chunks of wood rained down into the water, and Balthazar barely avoided them. 

Block never made it. 

Balthazar didn’t wish such a gruesome end on anyone. Not even Block. 

There was a scream from the shore, and Balthazar could barely make out someone frantically searching for something. 

It was Martin. 

Milo wasn’t with him. Martin must’ve lost been hit by debris somewhere and lost his grip. 

Several spotlights illuminated a large body that was lying face down. A pool of blood trailed from several holes in the body to the water, staining it red. There were shouts directed at him from the shore, but Balthazar paid them no mind. 

He put his watch on a plank that floated by, took a deep breath, and dove below the surface. His vision was blurry at best, but it was enough to pick out shapes and movement. 

A flash of red caught his eye, and Balthazar darted toward it quickly. Milo wasn’t moving. Clutching Milo with one arm, Balthazar swam for the surface. His lungs screamed for air. 

Then he saw something circular and golden fall to the depths. 

His watch! 

Balthazar reached out with his foot to grab it, but the current pushed it away. 

It was either Milo or the watch. 

A stabbing pain shot through his chest. Balthazar didn’t know if it was because he was quickly running out of oxygen, or because the hands were counting down to his death. 

In a brief moment of clarity among all the chaos, Balthazar knew what he had to do. 

Ignoring the pain in his chest, he swung Milo up to a small platform that bobbed among the waves, pushing it to the shore. They would take care of everything else. 

Savannah would take the Murphy family home. They would be whole again. Vinnie would make a full recovery. Life would go on. 

But not for him. 

He drew one last, shuddering breath.