Time to Go

Jack looked down at his phone. A blocked number once again. This time, however, he was more prepared.

"Diana?" he said, answering, "How did it go up there? Am I in trouble?"

"Um, hi," a new voice piped in, one that carried neither the melodic quality nor the authority of Wonder Woman's, "I think maybe you think I'm someone I'm not. I'm looking for Jack Jordan."

"Who's asking?" he said, feeling nervous. Normally Jack was a pretty trusting guy, but with all that had happened that day, he was feeling more than a little exposed.

"My name is Traci and I need to speak to you about what happened at the grocery store," the voice said, "about the attack."

"Shit," he said, then hung up.

The phone began to ring again almost immediately, and just as quickly he realized his mistake. Had Jack just answered her questions, she would have left him alone. He was sure that whatever she was looking for he could side-step, but now that he'd hung up.

"Damnit!" he sighed, putting his phone on silent and dropping it onto the couch, just before he sat down himself. He was a simple man, and he wanted a simple life. Now, after Black Adam's attack, everything was far more complicated! Not only did he have the two most powerful women on the planet infatuated with him, but now there was this new person, this Traci, trying to find him.

He should leave town. Yes, that was what he had to do. He didn't have a lot of money, barely anything, but he could pack a bag of essentials, hop on a bus to Star City, or hitchhike to Central City. He'd always wanted to see the Flash Museum. Maybe everything would just blow over with time.

He ran to his bedroom and grabbed the hiking backpack he had bought on an impulse two years earlier, the one he had always told himself he would use to start adventuring in the back-country. Underwear, jeans, shirts, a raincoat, toiletries. It was big enough that he even fit a couple books. Then he opened his bottom drawer and pulled out the little money he'd squirrelled away, his "just in case money". Quickly counting it, he frowned. Only one hundred and fifty dollars. With Metropolis rents and the low pay at his dead-end job, it had been impossible to get ahead.

It would have to do. He shoved the cash in his pocket and zipped up the backpack. Throwing it over one shoulder, he jogged to the door of his apartment, throwing it open to head into the hallway.

"You must be Jack," the cute Asian-looking young woman standing at his door said with a smirk, "Going somewhere?"