Thump

Meow

"Huh?"

Gary startled awake and almost fell off the couch. Looking around, he saw the bed neatly made, then glanced down to realize he was still fully dressed. "Wow," he muttered, rubbing his hands down his face then scratching his head. He stretched, then tossed the afghan carelessly over the back of the sofa. Feeling more rested than he had in a long time, he crossed to the door and retrieved the paper.

The cat meowed and ran into the kitchen.

"If you're looking for tuna, you're outta luck. I hope you like peanut butter." Gary ambled back to the couch, scanning the front page.

"Looks like the vacation's over." He noted a couple of incidents that needed his attention. The first mishap involved a commuter being hit by a train. The second problem was on the west side of town around mid-morning. A five-year-old boy would be the victim of a dog mauling. Gary grimaced.

Rushing through Union Station a short while later, Gary glanced at the article again.

"The victim, identified as John Stockman, was hurrying from the North Central line when he strayed too close to the edge of the platform and appeared to lose his balance, a witness said."

Gary looked around and spotted the schedule board.

Tucking the paper into his back pocket, he hurried towards the correct platform wondering how the hell he was going to find John Stockman amongst the horde of commuters.

The commuters already on the platform were safely boarding the train. He turned towards the people just entering the boarding area.

As he scrutinized the oncoming rush, Gary became aware that he too, was being closely observed by many of the people. Instead of being invisible in the crowd, as he was so used to being, he was receiving sidelong glances, interested looks and outright stares. He saw a few people nudge one another and point towards him. Another guy glanced up from his newspaper and did a double take as he passed.

Gary felt a hot flush creeping up his neck, but tried to ignore the looks and just concentrated on finding the impending victim.

After ten minutes, the train pulled away with no mishaps. Rubbing the back of his neck in confusion, he reached for the paper and turned to the page where the story had been. It was gone.

Surprised, Gary slowly walked back into the station and out towards the street. Hopping into the van, he replayed the whole incident in his mind and couldn't figure out what might have happened to change anything. Heck, he hadn't even identified the guy who would have been hit, let alone done something to prevent it. All he had done was stand there like an idiot and get pointed at. Somehow, that must have been enough to change the outcome.

Gary shook his head and sighed. Well, at least his notoriety had served a purpose. He just hoped it wouldn't continue to play a role in the outcomes of saves. He didn't think that today's result would be the norm.

A short while later, Gary cruised the block where the dog mauling would happen. He hated any saves having to do with kids and animals. Both were so unpredictable, but the thought of a young child being critically injured and scarred for life was more than enough reason to take a risk. Spotting a young boy and his mother walking down the sidewalk, he pulled the van over and headed around to the back of the van, pretending to get something out.

He could hear a dog barking somewhere. Gary quickly inventoried any possible weapons .He thought about a large carving knife, but worried about scaring, or God-forbid, injuring the boy or his mother. Instead, he settled for a long handled, solid stainless steel serving spoon. It wasn't much, but it was a foot long and heavy enough to hopefully discourage the dog.

Hearing a child's voice approaching, Gary turned, praying that this save would be like the last one. His prayers went unanswered when a medium sized, compact but muscular pitbulldashed from in front of the van and across the street. The mother, a slight woman with black hair and Asian features, froze in fear, her hand tightly gripping her son's.

"Watch out!" Gary darted towards the child and mom. A scream rent the air as the mother tried to scoop up her son. As the dog gathered his legs to lunge for the pair, Gary shouted and cracked the dog across the back with the spoon. The dog whirled with a snarl and leaped towards Gary. Throwing his arm up and frantically backpedaling, Gary screamed at the mother, "Get in the van! Now!"

"Arghh!" Gary let out a strangled moan as the dog's vise-like jaws clamped onto his left forearm just below the elbow. He staggered as the weight of the dog almost pulled him down. Instinctively, Gary knew that he had to remain on his feet at all costs; that falling to the ground would leave him vulnerable to the whirling, snarling ball of muscle and teeth.

He beat the dog about the head with the spoon with no effect. He briefly tried using it to pry the jaws open, but couldn't even get an inch of the utensil wedged in the dog's mouth.

In desperation, he used the spoon to stab at the dog's face as hard he could with the handle end. He was aiming for the eye, but missed, landing towards the corner of the dog's left eye.

It was close enough though; the dog released his grip, yelping. Seizing the opportunity, Gary scrambled the few steps backwards to reach the rear door of the van. The door was shut, but not tightly and he was able to swing it open and shut it fast enough to escape the dog, which had quickly recovered from the blow to his eye.

Falling into the back of the van, Gary laid on his back and panted, vaguely aware of the thump of the dog hitting the other side of the door. Trying to ignore the pain in his arm, Gary turned his head towards the mother and boy huddled next to him. "You guys okay?"

The mom nodded while the boy remained wide-eyed and shaking. "Thanks, mister," the woman finally said, her voice quavering.

Gary tried to sit up, then fell back with a moan, clutching his arm. He felt a cold sweat pop out on his body and thought he might throw up.

"Do you have a cell phone?"

Gary just shook his head, eyes tightly shut, teeth gritted too hard to reply.

After a few minutes of uneasy silence, Gary was able to sit up; this time, he bit back the groan. "I'm okay, just give me a second." It seemed like an eternity, but finally, Gary felt his stomach settle enough for him to risk moving.

Running a shaky hand through his hair, he took a deep breath and fished his keys out of his jacket pocket. Rolling over to his knees, left arm firmly clamped across his belly, he stumbled to a crouch and pulled himself into the driver's seat. "I'm…I'm gonna take you two home. When you get in your house, call animal control right away. They need to catch that dog." Seeing the paper lying on the front seat, he gingerly reached for it and, draping it over the steering wheel, flipped to the page where the story had first appeared.

Relieved, he saw that the story was gone.

"What about you?" the mother asked, hugging her son tight. "We can't just leave you to fend for yourself with your arm all bitten up."

Gary shook his head. "What I need for you to do is make sure they find that dog so I don't have to get rabies shots. I'm going to head over to Cook County hospital and have my arm looked at as soon as I drop you off." After getting her address, which was only a few blocks away, he put the keys in the ignition, and with some difficulty, pulled away from the curb.

"What's your name? I'll need to tell them who to look for at the hospital."

Gary sighed. He hadn't thought of that. Reluctantly he answered, "Gary Hobson." He glanced in the review mirror, seeing the mom's eyes widen as they met his.

"You mean…? You're the guy…? Wow." The woman grinned. "Well, boy am I glad you weren't put in jail!"

Gary nodded. "Yeah. Me too"

"And you're much better looking in person than your mugshot." The woman met his eyes in the mirror, an amused smile quirking her lips.

Embarrassed, Gary quickly averted his gaze and then chuckled despite the pain in his arm. "Thanks."