wed his
eyes. "What's this baloney?"

"I'm taking this car."

"The hell you say!"

Walt pulled the door open, grabbed the man by the shirt and twisted. He
set his feet and the man came sprawling out into the street.

Holding him, Walt slapped his face.

The man flailed wildly. He tried to jerk loose. His shoulders twisted.
He tried with a knee, and Walt threw him to the pavement. A few startled
passers-by turned to watch.

Walt picked the man up and thrust him into the car. The man's face was
purple with rage. He tried to scream.

Walt displaced the air from his lungs. The man collapsed, gagging.

"Don't make any loud noises," Walt said.

The man choked and gasped with suddenly restored breath.

"... what ... what do you want?"

"How do you start this car?"

The man started to protest; the look on Walt's face made him think
better of it. He told Walt how to start the car.

Walt followed instructions. He listened to the purr of the motor.

"What is the power? What makes it run?"

The owner wiped blood from his face. Sullenly, through swelling lips, he
said, "... it's a combustion engine ... like all cars...."

Cautiously maneuvering the car into traffic, Walt said, "Tell me what
you know about combustion engines."

Walt displaced air again. He put it back. "I asked you to tell me what
you know about combustion engines."

The man kept dabbing at his lips.

Gasping, the man began to explain. He did not seem too sure of himself.
Every other sentence, he faltered, and Walt had to prompt him sharply.

"This fuel ... this gas.... When the supply is used up, how does one
obtain more?"

"From a ... gas station...."

I'll have to watch the fuel supply, Walt thought.

"They're ... they're on nearly every corner," the man said.

Walt nodded. I've got all I can from him, he thought. "Do you have a
small, heavy object?"

The man licked his cut lip. His eyes were wide with terror.
"Y--ye--yes."

"Produce it!"

The man brought out a cigarette lighter.

Teleporting, Walt jerked it from the man's hand and hit him behind the
ear with it. With a sigh, the owner collapsed unconscious.

I'm doing all right, Walt thought. Now, if I can just find the right
road to follow.

He concentrated on Julia.

He began to drive very fast, slipping in and out of traffic recklessly.

Six blocks later, he picked up the police car.

And three blocks after that, the police car was abreast of him, forcing
him to the