Heroic Measures (continued)

Red gave him a puzzled expression. Walter figured that his friend probably thought he was reacting to the scene in front of them. He felt no need to correct that impression.

The flash of memory from his previous encounter, coupled with the still-sharp ache of Torino’s loss, beat back any remaining queasiness. His mind felt curiously clear, in a strangely disassociated sort of way. He knelt to get a closer look at what remained of the body.

It was twisted in such a way that he could not see its face. He was reluctant to touch it, both because he did not want to disturb the crime scene, and he was not at all certain that he was prepared for what he might find.

He heard Red shuffle closer behind him.

“Anyone we know?”

Walter studied the mangled form.

Nothing about clothing looked familiar. That was not really much of an indication, he knew, other than to eliminate the likelihood that it was one of his acquaintances that tended toward very unique fashions: Val, for example.

“I don’t think so,” Walter answered in a deep whisper.

He heard Red take a slow breath of relief.

Walter passed the beam over the ground near the corpse. There were no obvious footprints or other indications of where the attacker had gone. He pointed the flashlight upward, but once again saw nothing but vaguely ominous shadows.

“You’d better go call it in,” he told Red.

“Are you sure?”

Walter nodded. “Yeah,” he answered. “I’ll stay here.”

“Okay,” Red agreed. Walter could hear the reluctant skepticism in his friend’s voice. “If you’re sure.”

I’m not.

“I am,” Walter said aloud. “Now go . . . before I do change my mind.”

He heard Red’s footsteps move away, their cadence increasing as he cleared the alcove’s opening.

Walter remained kneeling, but shifted the flashlight so that it no longer shone directly on the shredded corpse. He held the beam so that it left the grisly form as just an indistinct dark mass. He wanted to keep an eye on it, as if afraid that it might suddenly vanish.

Red returned a few minutes, or at it seemed like only a few to Walter. He was breathless and Walter was worried that he might have been unable to locate a telephone nearby.

“They’re on their way,” Red reported in between panting breaths. “Westin said to stay put.”

Walter looked up at Red in surprise.

Walter had assumed that Red would contact the police. It took him a moment to realize that it made sense for Red to have contacted the hero organization instead.

“Okay,” he nodded, and arose from his kneeling position. With Red there, he longer felt the need to keep as close a watch on the mangled corpse.

The stiffness of his knees and burning of his thigh muscles told him that he must have been crouching there for longer than he had thought. As he stood there waiting, staring into the darkness, he realized that he never had found out what had happened to the one that he and Torino had found.