He walked up the stone stairs on the side toward a door which was locked but was no obstacle. He broke the lock and entered the house.
“Help me,” the woman’s voice came from above him.
“I’m on my way, just hold tight,” he said.
“Help me…please someone help me,” the voice screamed again.
Walter climbed the stairs to the second floor and checked two rooms, finding nothing, but the woman screamed again and he went down the hall to another room. There was nobody in the room, nothing but a speaker sitting on an end table, the woman’s voice coming out of the speaker every couple seconds.
“What the…”
His voice was drowned out by a terrific explosion that reduced the house to kindling and did damage to the old church across the street. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion to Walter. The fireball came from just below his feet and engulfed him, but he only felt slightly warmed by the flames. He saw the shock wave and saw the entire house come apart by the force of the blast. He saw the floor give way under his feet, and hovering in the air until what seemed like minutes but was actually only a couple seconds, he found himself above a pile of stone and wood. Car alarms were going off up the street and people were starting to walk out of their houses to see what was going on.
A minute later, Walter walked into the District 1 Police Station, still smelling like smoke.
“Hi Walter,” the cop at the desk said, “Whoa…where have you been? You look like crap.”
“You’re going to get a report of an explosion over in Delhi, if you haven’t already.”
“Yeah, someone just called it in. Fire Department’s on the way, and we have a couple officers headed there.”
“The house was abandoned. It was a trap.”
“A trap?”
“I believe for me. I heard a woman’s voice screaming like she was in trouble. Got there, and it was recorded. Nobody was in the house. As soon as I’m inside, whole place goes up.”
“And you walk out with nothing but singe marks on your shirt and smelling like smoke. Damn.”
“Yeah, but what if someone else would have heard the voice and gone in there? Someone could have been killed.”
“You didn’t notice any cameras?”
“Wasn’t really looking for cameras. Just thought someone was in trouble. Figured it would be another easy rescue. Just get someone out and go back home.”
“Sounds like someone detonated it when you were in there, if you ask me. Either trying to take you out or see if you could be taken out.”
“Well, this one didn’t work, but what if whoever this is keeps trying, but with stronger bombs…or worse? People could get hurt. Just between you and me, I’m betting on the same people who set those apartment buildings on fire.”
“Okay, Walter, we’ll look into it. You got a way we can reach you?”
“Well, don’t like giving out my number, but just between you and me…okay?”
“Yeah. We need to reach you, I can pass along messages.”
“Sure thing,” Walter said, writing his number on a piece of paper, “Officer…Wilkins.”
“Yeah, Larry Wilkins, at your service. You need anything, just stop in or give us a ring.”
7
Walter left the police station and was about to head home, then decided he needed to clear his head, so instead of flying home he went up to about five hundred feet and flew north along I-75. He wasn’t really looking for anything, but watching the traffic flow beneath him. He was near Middletown when he spotted an aggressive driver below, passing eighteen-wheelers on the right side, weaving in and out of traffic, and being a general nuisance. Walter hated aggressive drivers. He watched the car as it cut off another truck and waited for the car to get into the clear.
“Oh, what the hell,” he said, swooping down behind the aggressive driver. He was flying just above the road surface and the driver never saw him. He reached under the car and lifted it up into the air, turning around and heading south.
“What the—”
“Hey, watch your mouth,” Walter said, popping his head up by the driver’s window, “I have sensitive ears.”
The driver continued to scream a creative mix of profanity, including some disparaging remarks about Walter’s mother, but he ignored every bit of it. He followed the highway south for a bit, across the Ohio River, and finally decided Walton, Kentucky was a good place to set the angry driver down.
“Here you go, buddy,” Walter said before setting the car down in the northbound lane, “Try not to drive like a jerk from now on, unless you want to find yourself coming back from Alabama.”
As Walter was flying away, he heard another string of invective coming from the car, several words rhyming with truck, and more comments about the marital state of his parents. He flew back up to five-hundred feet and headed toward home, smiling as he went.
Getting home took longer than he expected. He retrieved two cats from trees, stopped a convenience store robbery and deposited the would be robber next to a police cruiser, and returned a confused elderly man to the nursing home he had wandered away from. He was almost home when his phone buzzed. He pushed the button on his headset and answered.
“Hey Gramps, where are you?” Franklin asked.
“Shouldn’t you be studying?”
“Yeah, got a window open with news on…got a high-speed chase up near Mason. Carjacking. Thought you’d like to know.”
“On the highway?”
“Yeah, got a helicopter following it. Close to King’s Island now.”
“Okay kid, on the way. I’m coming home after that if nothing else happens. Been a busy day.”
Walter sped up and was next to the helicopter in less than a minute. The
