Free Saving the World by Gary Ponzo

street. The unease on her face was palpable. Something told him she was hiding something, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.
    Bryant took her hand from his arm and gently let go. “I need to do this. For both of us.”
    He walked over to Kate’s headstone, bent over and kissed it. He turned and kissed Megan’s headstone, then whispered, “Goodnight girls.”
    Bryant walked past his parked car and headed for the street. He walked with a purpose, almost a strut to his step. Ever since the accident, he’d lost any sense of apprehension when it came to confrontations. He strode across the slick street and waited on the center strip for a car to pass. The Expedition was still sitting there idling. Bryant glanced over his shoulder and couldn’t see Margo.
    After the car passed, Bryant headed straight for the Expedition. There was no hesitation to his gait. He stood inches in front of the driver’s side window and knocked. The smoky glass windows prevented him from seeing inside the vehicle, but he knew what to expect.
    The window rolled down. Even under the dim city streetlights, Bryant could tell it was the same guy he saw at St. Andrews earlier that day. The man’s face looked like it was set in cement. His eyes were slits of intensity.
    “Get in,” the man said.

Chapter 11
    Bryant pulled open the passenger door to the Expedition and sat next to the FBI agent. It was chilly enough for Bryant to feel the heater blowing on his feet. The man twisted to face him and folded his arms across his chest.
    “You want to know what’s going on, don’t you?” the man said.
    “What’s your name?” Bryant asked.
    The man hesitated. It was a simple question, but Bryant understood the consequences of the request. Giving up even something as simple as your name was a dispersal of power. A loss of previously undisclosed information. It gave him an identity.
    “Ron,” the man said tersely. Then he seemed to arrive at a conclusion. He reached into his coat pocket and came out with a gold shield. “Special Agent Ron Turkle.”
    “All right, Ron,” Bryant said, not giving the man the satisfaction of acting intimidated. “Why don’t you tell me what I need to know.”
    The FBI agent sat motionless while Bryant took in the interior of the vehicle. A GPS device sat in the middle of the dashboard. It was dark green, but for an orange dot blinking on the top portion of the screen. A few hundred yards ahead of the Expedition a car started. Bryant didn’t put the two things together until he noticed the blinking orange light on the GPS begin to move at the very same moment a small car pulled out onto Warner Road and drove away. It was too dark to tell, but it looked something like a Honda Civic.
    “That’s her car you’re tracking isn’t it?” Bryant said.
    Agent Turkle didn’t pay any attention to the GPS, or the car. He simply stared at Bryant with a serious expression, as if he were deciding exactly how much to say.
    “She’s just a teenage girl for crying out loud,” Bryant said. “What are you so afraid of?”
    Turkle didn’t seem in any rush to engage Bryant. He looked out his window to peek at the overcast sky.
    “The meteorologists already have a name for this anomaly,” Turkle said. “They’ve labeled it some kind of stagnant air flow something or other.” He turned back to Bryant and added, “Is that what you figured it was?”
    Bryant was beginning to wonder why this guy seemed so casual. He was using soft tones and innocuous conversation as if trying to keep Bryant curious enough to stay.
    “You didn’t answer my question,” Bryant said.
    “You already know the answer to the first question, but it’s the second question you want to ask that’s got you all geeked up with intrigue.”
    Bryant wasn’t getting anywhere with this line of dialogue so he decided a different approach. “Aw, Agent Turkle,” Bryant moaned, a disgusted look on his face. “Don’t tell me you’re into young girls. Is