Mr. Vohl's Arc

Chapter 1 of 1

Mr. Vohl ducked into the shadows of a rusted warehouse, his mechanical arms whirring softly as he adjusted his hat. The bounty hunter was two days behind him now, maybe less. He needed to stay sharp, stay moving, stay alive. Zyzill was a maze of alleys and abandoned buildings—perfect for a man on the run. He'd keep ahead of his tracker or die trying. Morning light crept through the broken windows above. Mr. Vohl slipped back onto the street and kept his head down. Three blocks later, he spotted a wooden board covered in papers near a market stall. Wanted posters lined the bulletin board in crooked rows. His breath caught. There, among the other faces, was his own sketch. The reward was bigger than he expected. He pulled his hat lower and turned away. Every pair of eyes in this city was now a threat. The hunter was gaining ground, and Zyzill was getting smaller. Mr. Vohl needed to vanish completely, find somewhere his face wouldn't be plastered on every corner. He'd heard rumors of settlements in the outer zones where names didn't matter. That was his only shot now. He walked faster, mechanical fingers flexing at his sides. Freedom wasn't a place—it was distance. And he'd keep running until he found enough of it. He turned down a narrow passage between two buildings. At the end, water rushed through a metal channel. An AquaLink Interface sat mounted on the wall, its controls glowing in the dim light. Mr. Vohl studied the device for a moment. If he could redirect the water flow, he might flood the streets behind him. The hunter would lose his trail in the chaos. His mechanical hand reached for the controls, fingers hovering over the buttons. This was his chance to buy time. He pressed the sequence and heard water roaring through new channels. The street behind him would be underwater in minutes. He climbed over the wall and dropped into the next district. The outer zones were still two days away, but he'd make it. He had to. By dusk, he'd found what he needed. An old tree stump sat in an overgrown lot, its roots thick and twisted. A door was built into the base, hidden behind moss and shadow. Mr. Vohl pushed it open and descended into a small room beneath the ground. No windows. One exit. Perfect for a man who needed to disappear. He set his pack down and lit a small lamp. This would be his base until the hunter passed through. From here, he could plan his route to the outer zones where bounty hunters didn't follow. Where a man could start over. He pulled off his hat and leaned against the earthen wall. For the first time in days, he allowed himself to breathe.