Going Home, Part 07, Greak Oaks

“How did you know there was a bomb in the bag?” Walter asked.

Eric didn’t answer, watching the lion cut a line from the bottom of his leg to where the knife had entered his leg.

“You’re a Tecker, aren’t you? That’s how you knew. You could sense it, or however it is you do it.”

He thought about lying, but what was the point? Walter had worked it out, and he was helping. He nodded.

“Why did you take the bag?” He nodded to it at the foot of the examination bed.

“I didn’t want them to get it back so they could try again.”

“Do you have any idea how much damage that much Clay can do?”

“A lot,” Eric replied. “This isn’t exactly like what Jarred made, so I don’t know how it changed its effectiveness, but one of his bricks could bring down a building.”

Walter studied the knife. “I’m going to give you a local anesthetic before pulling it out.”

“No.”

“Why not? This is going to hurt.”

“I can’t afford to lose control.” The prickling was silent, but he remembered all too well how it had gone crazy only a few minutes ago.

“It’s a local one, it isn’t going to affect your focus.”

Eric shook his head. “Can’t risk it.”

Walter looked at him questioningly.

He sighed. “My ability isn’t stable. The madness keeps hounding me. Just before this I almost lost control. You have no idea what I’m capable of is I go mad.” He knew it was a losing battle, no Builder of his caliber had ever remained sane, but he would fight it for as long as he could.

But he worried he had already lost, considering the device he’d woken up this morning to find on the table. Something he’d built in his sleep from parts of the phones he’d collected over the week. He didn’t know what it was, and when he tried to see the diagram, nothing came, but nonetheless, it felt familiar.

He fixed his gaze on the lion. “Walter, I can’t lose control. I could destroy all of Great Oaks if I do.” For starters, he thought, remembering that perfectly round lake.

The lion nodded. “Okay, I’ll take your word for it, I knew very little about Teckers. Who’s Jarred?”

Eric opened his mouth to answer, then screamed as the knife came out. He was sweating and fought to stay conscious.

“You’re lucky,” Walter said, already working to stop the flow of blood. “He missed the Femoral artery.” Each of the lion’s motion cause Eric more pain. “So? Who’s Jarred?”

“The guy who created ExoClay,” Eric panted.

“So you read up on him?”

Eric shook his head. “Worked with him.” Through the waves of pain he realized what he’d said and looked at the lion to gauge his reaction, but Walter was focused on the wound, cleaning it. He placed a folded towel over it and had Eric hold it in place while he went to a cabinet.

There was a knock at the door, and Jennifer looked in. “The police is here, Officer Goth.”

Walter nodded, not looking away from the inside. “Tell Fred it’s going to be five minutes, maybe ten. I’m still patching him up.

Walter came back with a sealant gel and adhesive strips. “Okay, here’s the thing.” He applied the gel and began closing the wound. “If I tell Fred about the bomb, he’s going to want to take you in to question you. He’s a good cop, but he’s going to ask for ID and I’m guessing you’d rather no one take a serious look at you. Am I right?”

Eric nodded.

Walter made sure the wound had stopped bleeding, then took the duffel bag and placed it inside a floor level cabinet. He came back with bandages.

“As far as I can tell, I’m the only one who got close enough to see what actually happened.” He wrapped Eric’s leg a few times. “I don’t think those people are going to come forward to contradict anything we say, so I think we should tell Fred you got hurt stopping a car thief.”

“That won’t line up with what the people in here are going to say. I was sort of obvious when I ran in here.”

Walter shook his head. “No one’s doing to say anything about you being here. I asked them to forget about it before I ran out to help you.”

Eric narrowed his eyes. Walter looked to be honest and earnest, but technology was his thing, not people. “Okay, why are you doing this? Helping me like this, telling people to keep silent, being willing to lie to the police. Helping you with your car doesn’t cover all of this.”

Walter stood and leaned against the edge of his desk. “Do you believe that the Lord watches over us, Eric?”

He shrugged.

“I do. I don’t think you being here today was a coincidence. He guided your steps so you’d find the bomb, so that you’d be able to protect…us.”

Eric noticed the hesitation.

“I don’t think I’d be helping His plan if I let the police take you. I’d rather you were walking our streets so long as they’re out there.”

Walter knew something. Eric was sure of it. Was he Powered? Was he somehow influencing him? Manipulating probabilities so Eric would be where he was needed? That seemed more probable than the unseen Lord Tiranis watching over people. And Walter might not know he was doing it, he could truly believe Eric was the Lord’s agent. Eric didn’t ask about that. Confronting a Powered who might be in denial about his ability wouldn’t lead to anything good.

“Okay, I’ll go with your idea.”

“Good, don’t volunteer too much information, it makes them suspicious.”

Eric raised an eyebrow while Walter patted his leg and went to open the door. Just how did the good doctor know that?

“Fred,” he called, “you can come in.”

A jackal in a blue uniform with yellow stripes at the cuffs, neck and bottom of the jacket entered. His black pants also had yellow on them, a stripe going down on each side and at the bottom.

“Walt, it’s good to see you again, even under the circumstances.” His voice was a deep baritone. He nodded to Eric. “Sir.”

Eric gave the officer a small wave.

“Do you need me to leave?” Walter held the door open.

“Yes, but first, what did you see? Jen said you ran out.”

“I didn’t see much. By the time I reached this wounded man, I was out of breath and barely able to stand. I saw a group of people rush off, no more than five people.”

“Any details jump out?”

“No, sorry.”

“It’s alright. This won’t take long.”

“I’ll be on the other side of the door.” Walter closed it behind him.

“Your name is Eric?” The jackal made a note on his phone.

“Eric Clarkson, Sir.”

The officer smiled. “I’m not old enough to warrant a ‘Sir.’

“Sorry. It’s the uniform. I was in the army.”

The man made another note. “I’m officer Fred Goth. You’re not under suspicion at this time. This is just to find out what happened. Do you understand?”

Eric nodded.

“Alright, tell me what happened. The only thing the people here saw was that there was a scuffle by the minivan.”

“I was walking by when I saw a group of people huddled by the vehicle.” He’d used the time Walter talked with the officer to work out what he’d say. “I heard the window break, so I went to them, and called out. They turned and attacked me. I defended myself. One of them pulled a knife.” He indicated his leg.

“How many were there?”

“Three.”

“Any distinguishing characteristics?”

“Humans, two man and a woman.” He really hoped Walter was right and none of them would surface and prove him wrong.

“Age?”

“About mine, I guess. It happened pretty fast. I didn’t catch any details.”

“How about hair color?”

“Brown, and one redhead,” he added, realizing that it was improbable they’d all have the same hair color.

“Guy or girl?”

Eric shook his head. “I don’t know, sorry.”

The jackal made more notes. “Skin tones?”

Eric looked at his hands. “Like mine? Maybe one was a little darker, like he was tanned. I’m really sorry, I didn’t think to pay attention to things like that.”

“I understand. How about clothing? Did you notice anything distinctive about them? Maybe a badge they all shared, prominent color they all had?”

“I don’t remember anything matching. They had jeans, shirts, maybe a t-shirt. There were colors, but I didn’t catch if there was a design. Maybe someone else saw them run off?”

“Other officers are asking around. Unfortunately, the minivan is in a camera blind spot. That’s probably why they targeted it. We won’t be able to get footage of what happened.”

Eric’s heart flipped about, both scared and relieved. He hadn’t known there were cameras, so he could have been caught taking the bag. It took an effort of will for him not to look at the cabinet where it was hidden. It was pure luck that he was still safe.

“Is there anything else you can remember?”

“No, I’m sorry.”

The officer placed a hand on Eric’s shoulder and squeezed it. “It’s alright. You might remember more as the events settle in your mind.” He took out a card and handed it to him. “If you do, call this number and ask for me. I’ll add it to the reports.

The top of the card had ‘Tiranis Police Department’ in bold black and yellow letters, or maybe it was deep blue. Under that ‘Great Oaks Division.’ Below that was Fred’s name and a number.

“Are you going to be okay?”

“I will, thank you.”

“Alright. Remember, call if anything comes back to you.” He opened the door. “I’m done.”

Walter peeked in. “Do you need me for anything else?”

“Not unless you remembered something.”

“Sorry, no.”

“Then I’ll be going, see if any of the others got something.”

“I’ll see you in two weeks for your annual check-up then.”

Fred nodded and left.

Walter turned to the people in the waiting area. “I’m sorry everyone, I still need to make sure the young man is okay. It shouldn’t take me long, and I’ll get back to you. Don’t worry, I won’t be leaving until I’ve seen everyone. If someone is in a hurry, check with Jenifer. Harry can probably fit a few of you between his patients.” He backed into the office and closed the door.

“I’m fine,” Eric said, getting off the bed. He gingerly put weight on his injured leg.

“I know.” Walter went to a cabinet and took out two large bottles from it. In a drawer he took two small one. “We still need to have a talk.” He transferred some from the large to the small bottles. Then put a sticker on each.

“These are antibiotics, two weeks’ worth, twice a day, breakfast and dinner, without fail. I don’t care if you feel fine, you’re taking them all.” He handed the bottle to Eric. “These are painkillers. Take them as needed, but no more than one every four hours, and no more than four a day. You said you need to retain control, so my advice is to take them only to sleep. They’re known to affect judgment in small ways. Don’t drive within an hour of taking one.”

Eric put both bottles in his bag and took out his billfold.

Walter put a hand on it. “Put that away. You don’t owe me anything.”

Eric studied him before putting it back in his pocket. “You know who they were.”

Walter shook his head.

“Then you know who they’re after. Why they put the bomb here. Is it you?”

“No. It isn’t me.”

“Who is it?”

Walter hesitated, then shook his head.

“Why won’t you tell me? I stopped them.”

Walter took the duffel bag and placed it at Eric’s feet.

“You’re not keeping it?”

“Dear Lord no. I don’t want that anywhere near me or my patients.”

Eric nodded and put the bag on the bed.

“As to why I’m not telling you.” Walter sat on the edge of his desk. “The Lord Tiranis doesn’t like it when we try to second guess him. When we try to get involved in what he’s planning. It’s in his Words, we all know th—”

“Stop.” Eric rubbed his face. “Look, I believe in Him, but I’m not of the Faith. You won’t tell me. That’s fine. I’m not going to force you.”

“Thank you.” The lion watched him for a moment. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“How old are you?”

“I’m—I’m twenty-five.” Eric swallowed.

“You said you worked with the man who invented Clay. I think you said his name was Jarred.” Eric opened his mouth to say something, although he had no idea what, but Walter stopped him with a raised hand. “The thing is that I’m pretty sure Clay was invented during the Hismer incursion, and that was at least fifty years ago. And I haven’t heard it called ‘being of the Faith’ since my teens. It’s just being one of the faithful these days.”

“It was in Five-eighty-three,” Eric gave the year he was deployed.

“So, how old are you?”

Eric sighed. “I’m twenty-five, but I jumped a chunk of time. I don’t know how.”

“What happened?” There was no judgment in Walter’s voice.

“I woke up a bit more than a year ago on the side of a lake. The last thing I remembered was working in the camp.” He remembered more, but he wasn’t willing to talk about that. “The lake wasn’t there during that time. It was all hills and flatland. I made my way to the closest town and found out sixty-one year had passed. I made my way back here, and we met on the side of the road.”

Walter nodded.

Eric studied him. “You’re being awfully calm about this. It took me two weeks before I was able to think clearly after I found out I’d jumped time, and I’m used to craziness.”

The lion chuckled. “Great Oaks might be quiet, but it’s still part of Tiranis. We’re all affected by the craziness at one time or another. My grandson was powered. I had to learn to deal with the unusual.”

It was Eric’s turn to nod. He’d met a handful of Powered furs in the army. They were more stable than most Builders, but they could still be prone to eccentricities. Major Calamity was known to be as dangerous to her men as the enemy.

Walter wrote a number on the back of a card. “This is my personal number. If you ever need help with something, just call me. I’ll do my best.”

“I’m not planning on getting into any trouble.”

Walter smiled, offering him the card. “I’m sure you’re not the one doing the planning anymore.”

Eric stifled a groan. Stuff like that was why he didn’t go for religion. He was his own man, controlled by no one or anything other than his ability. He took the card. It made Walter happy, and he wasn’t obligated to use it.

His injured leg throbbed. He wasn’t walking all the way to his room like this. “Can you call me a ride?” He picked the duffel bag and threw it over his shoulder.

“I can drive you,” Walter offered.

“You have patients to see, and I’ve already delayed you enough. I’ll be fine.”

Walter placed the call and then escorted Eric outside his office. “It should be here in ten minutes.

Eric nodded and sat.

“Abigail? You’re up.”

A woman in her late forties picked up the cane that was resting against her chair and stood. Before she took a step Walter was next to her, offering his arm. He never hurried her as they made their way to his office. He sat her in the chair then returned to close the door.

“Doctor,” Jennifer said. “Charlie called. He’s running late. Rick won’t be here until six-thirty.”

Walter glanced toward Eric. “Six-thirty is fine.” He smiled. “It’s all fine now.” He closed the door.

Eric wondered what that was about. He’d planned on asking the next time he left the office, but his ride arrived first, so he went home, his curiosity unsatisfied.