Alex Rider: A Billionaires Paradise

Angry Farmer

Alex leapt forward, slamming the mini screwdriver with the orange handle into the man's leg. He yelled in pain. The man fell back, tripping on the tube, pulling it from the tank. Alex heard an agressive hissing sound, and without hesitating through the lighter at the tank, lighting it as he did so. A fireball burst out, expanding and lighting up the entire warehouse. He ducked behind the car door, yanking the belt, tearing the weakened belt like a piece of paper.
He got up, kicking out the already broken drivers side window, before climbing out of it feet first. The second he was out, he looked at the men. Half of then were running away, and one of them was rolling on the floor, his trouser leg on fire. He couldn't see Blair anywhere. He spun around, searching for an exit. He saw a green luminescent exit sign, and ran towards it. The tank was still spouting a small flame, and he sprinted even faster, dodging around a few pieces of debris. They'd taken his watch, so he didn't know what time it was. He reached the door, snatching at the handle. It remained closed. He twisted, and slammed his foot against the door, close to where the lock would be. The first blow rattled the door loudly. As he drew his leg forward for another kick, he heard a loud bang, and the wall a few meters away from him shook, a pock hole suddenly appearing. He kicked again, and to his amazement, it swung open. He stepped out, into the complex. Surprisingly, it was only early afternoon. They must have worked pretty quickly to set up the car. He jumped the stairs, taking the two meter drop like a cat. He landed, bending his knees, almost dropping into a squat to take the fall. He ran away from the warehouse. He was frantically trying to think of where to go. He couldn't go into any of the buildings. He couldn't run along the main entrance road, or he'd be caught. He probably couldn't steal a car. Electric cars are notoriously had to steal. That left him with only two possible answers. Run into the water, or run it the hills. He heard the fire alarm go off in the warehouse. It came out from hidden speakers, and he saw faces appear at the windows of the buildings of the compound. He ran towards the main path into the hills. He had walked a lot recently, so he knew where everything led. He scrambled up a set of stairs, and jumped over a fence, onto the border of an wheat field. He ran along the edge of this, until he got to the end, where he jumped over the fence, and onto a wide, muddy road. He looked towards the compound. He saw a fleet of drones rising, like a swarm of angry bees. Wasting no more time, he ran along the road, frantically dodging the puddles and muddy patches. He hadn't been along this road, but he saw a treeline a few hundred meters away, and ran towards it. Drones aren't too good in trees. He looked back, the drones were speaking out, covering a large area. Not large enough though, he was already nearly a kilometre away. As he neared the treeline, he wondered what smithers was going to do. Surely he would have seen him "drowning". The more he though about it, smithers would probably be watching the area. He ducked, avoiding a low branch as he entered the trees. He continued in, jogging further into the forest, tripping and staggering on twigs and uneven ground, covered by leaves. When he was certain that he wouldn't be seen, he slowed down. He sat down on a log, catching his breath. He checked his arms and legs. They appeared to be very lightly burned.
As he was considering his options, he heard an aggressive, whining engine behind him. He jumped off the log, lying perpendicularly behind it as he scanned for the vehicle. No sooner than he did, two dirt bikes skidded into view. He kept as still as he could. There was no way that these were Blairs people. Surely. They looked too young and drove non-electric dirt bikes. They hadn't noticed him yet, and he held his breath as they began to speed towards him. They looked like they were going to jump the log. He swung his legs around, pushing his body against the log. A second later, the bikes shot over him, wheels flicking dirt in his face. He heard one of them shout, and spun around, skidding in the process. He got up, preparing for combat. He raised his fist, stepping into a position, ready to leap out of the way.

"Woah! No need for that!"
"Who are you?"
"Who were you expecting that would make you need to fight?!"
"It's complicated."