Johnny dialed the Bannerman's, only to realize he was calling them at 8 a.m. on a supposed day off. It was Saturday after all and Walt did deserve some time off. But the urgency of the vision is what sent Johnny to ignore this unspoken rule and before he knew it, a very groggy sounding Sarah answered the phone.

"Hello?" she groggily said.

Johnny could hear Walt in the background. It killed him to know that if it weren't for the accident that he had suffered, causing the dead zone phenomena, that he'd be the one next to Sarah in bed and not him. But things happened for a reason and he guessed this was one of them. To help people.

"Who is it?" queried Walt, a faint echo as the sheets were ruffled. Further making it obvious to Johnny that he had woken them up.

"It's Johnny," whispered Sarah, as she held her hand over the receiver. As though it would make things less uncomfortable in the bedroom. She and Walt had been having a couple of problems lately and somehow, having her ex-lover's voice enter their bedroom, even if by phone, was a little too disconcerting.

"What does he want?" asked Walt, once again waiting for Sarah's answer.

"He wants to talk to you," she simply stated, already knowing that Johnny only called for that one reason. She handed Walt the receiver and slinked out of bed, grabbing her robe as she headed for the bathroom. She was already more than awake and she wanted to get a shower. Maybe she'd make breakfast. She could hear J.J. downstairs, in the living room, watching Saturday morning cartoons. It was amazing that kids had such stamina.

As he saw Sarah leaving the bedroom, without even a good morning kiss, Walt leaned in to the receiver to hear what Johnny had to say. It did bother him that Johnny called at unfortunate times sometimes but they had been worth it. Almost every time, anyways.

"Walt...." said Johnny, obviously anxious. "There's going to be an accident. Interstate 81."

Johnny had a way of putting things in their most simplest forms, especially when it dealt with an impending vision of doom. Walt was getting used to them.

"Okay Johnny...slow down," he gestured, more for his own benefit than for Johnny. He needed to get the information if Johnny was correct.

"How do you know this? Did you get a vision?" he asked.

"Yeah...Sort of."

"What do you mean sort of ?"

"Well, I was watching..well ignoring the television while I was talking to Bruce and as I went to turn it down ..I sa..saw a vision..of well...something that is going to happen.." he said, hesitating on the last comments.

"So what exactly did you see?" asked Walt, his curiosity as a cop taking over. Sometimes he was grateful for his need for knowledge.

"I saw a bus careening out of control and colliding with a telephone pole. On interstate 81."

"Are you sure? I don't want to lead my men on a wild goose chase here.."

"No..Look Walt. I know what I saw. And if we don't try to do something to prevent it, there's going to be two people seriously hurt without any help. Not for miles anyways."

Johnny always warned. He always made his visions come to life with a sense of urgency, as though time was rapidly slipping away and he was trying to catch it, to change it. Or at least try to change it. And he intended to win every battle he encountered with fate.

"Okay..Okay," Walt said, trying to calm him down.

"Walt, we don't have a lot of time. I get the sense that this is going to happen. And soon."

"All right, all right.." said Walt, "I'll come over as soon as I'm dressed."

"And you'll bring the police, right? And an ambulance?" interrupted Johnny.

"I'll try.."

"Walt, we don't have time to try. Just do it. Please." begged Johnny, but not sounding like a lost puppy. Johnny always seemed to be cool, no matter what the situation.

"All right Johnny. I will. See ya in half an hour. Okay?"

This seemed to satisfy him and Johnny heard Walt click and then the phone line was dead. What a somber description, he thought. He hoped that Walt got here soon. He was starting to get worried.

He hadn't really seen when the accident would happen but he somehow knew that he only had a few hours to deter the accident from happening. Or to at least lessen the blow.

A Few Hours Later.....

"Okay Johnny. Let's go over this again.. Where did you see the accident happen?" asked Walt.

"I saw it here," he gestured as he walked around with the support of his cane.

When Walt had shown up, Bruce had already been at Johnny's and was also waiting for him. With a quick hello, Johnny allowed him into his living room and all three were soon in the Sheriff of Penobscott County police car.

They had soon arrived to Interstate 81 and Walt had asked Johnny to describe the exact area where the accident was going to happen. They couldn't exactly comb out every vehicle, large or small, before they reached Cleaves Mills, even if Walt had sent out a couple of patrol cars to be on the lookout for tour busses.

They were few and far between but Cleaves Mills was strategically positioned between two large cities, making it impossible for anyone traveling through to not run through Cleaves Mills main street.

Which meant that the people that Johnny saw in his premonition could be soon traveling through here, even if they were going to have an accident.

They'd already spent a good part of the morning combing through the adjoining interstates and had yet to see a tour bus that matched Johnny's description.

"Are you sure that it was going to happen today," asked Walt, already beginning to wonder if they weren't being led in a wild goose chase.

"Yes Walt. It's going to happen today." insisted Johnny, knowing full well that Walt was starting to lose patience. He knew they'd been here for the last two hours, taking only the men available for this mission. Which were only two more patrol cars, and only manned by two officers.

"I don't know Johnny. It sure seems like a long time for this vision to happen," commented Bruce, as he looked around the desolate area.

"Bruce. I know it's going to happen today. I'm positive. And it is going to happen here. Past the sign that says "Welcome to Cleaves Mills", gestured Johnny, the white, plain homemade sign distinctly present against the fields of grass. It was amazing how large the lands were for Cleaves Mills but his grandfather had made sure that Cleaves Mills got their fair share. A lot for a sleepy town.

And Johnny knew he was right.