Saxon gathered his trashed gear into a pile. If he had a shovel, he could bury it. He

shook his head. His shovel was miles to the south.

He thought about flying down to his house, getting his shovel and flying back. Could

he do that? How fast was he? Had he burned up his flying in the one trip to the car?

He touched the palm of his hand. It felt warm again. He closed his eyes.

Pushing all three squares, then the circle, allowed him to fly for a short amount of

time. A clock appeared to let him know how much time he had left. As long as the

clock ran, he could fly as high as he could breathe.

The drawback seemed to be a period where he couldn’t use the power at all.

What happened if he only pressed one button?

He decided that he could test the power application later. He needed to deal with his

wrecked stuff before a ranger came by to ask how his campsite was ruined. He didn’t

have an explanation that didn’t sound crazy.

And using the flight power to prove it would wreck his personal life as far as he could

tell.

Saxon looked around. He seemed to be alone. He could use the flight power to fly

home and get his shovel. The cooldown period seemed to be only a few minutes.

Even if he couldn’t fly down in one jump, it wouldn’t take all night to fly home and

fly back.

He decided to do it. He planned to fly high to get over obstacles and then come in for

a landing right before the clock gave out. He didn’t know how much time he would

have for that, but it shouldn’t be a problem as long as he kept his eye on things.

When things cooled down, he could figure out how long flight time was with a

stopwatch.

He pressed the buttons on the palm of his hand. He lifted off the ground. He thought

about his house. A red arrow appeared to point the way. He imagined that was

because he couldn’t see the house from where he was.

He leaped into the air and headed south. He wondered how fast he could go. He

didn’t see any controls for speed in his head. He focused on the arrow and followed

it.

He passed cars heading south. He doubted any of them saw him in the air. He laughed

as he left them behind. He needed to test how fast his cruising speed was. He figured

it was faster than forty miles an hour but he wasn’t sure.

Another arrow sprang up in the distance, hovering straight up in the air. That arrow

marked where his house stood. He wondered how many arrows he could cause to

appear at once.

He decided to get his shovel and deal with one crisis at a time. When he had taken

care of his gear and retrieved his car, he could think about testing the potential of his

new skills.

Trying to mark more than one destination while he was in flight was just asking for

trouble.

He could do after he was comfortable with the next few steps he was taking.

He saw the roof of his house. No one looked like they were roaming the

neighborhood. He landed next to the shed in his back yard and hovered to where he

kept his shovel. He checked the clock on his hand. It seemed to be slowly fading out.

He had flown home in the same amount of time it had taken him to fly to his car, and

put out the fire in the park.

How fast could he fly?

And it was protecting him in flight. He realized that when he looked at his hands and

didn’t see any windburn.

He didn’t think that protection would extend to physical obstructions.

He smiled.

He touched down and realized he needed something else other than a shovel. He

needed socks and shoes. He jogged to the door of his house and let himself in. He

went to his bedroom and grabbed socks and tennis shoes. He pulled them on while

waiting for his cooldown minutes to tick away.

Could he fly to New York? How far east could he fly before his power gave out? He

doubted it was going to go away for good. Could he fly to New York in one shot?

Did he want to try?

He had to take care of his wrecked camp before he could test his new ability more

than he had already done.

He stamped his feet inside his tennis shoes and went out to his shed. He could take

the shovel up to the camp site, clean up, and leave the shovel in his car while he

tested his power.

He hoped he wasn’t using up a finite source of energy with this testing.

Saxon grabbed the shovel and activated his power. A red arrow pointed him toward

his camp to the north. He leaped along the indicated path. He soared through the air

back to the park. He homed in on the arrow pointing toward the spot on the ground

he had aimed for from Idaville.

He descended to a hovering stop in the middle of the wrecked camp site. He went to

work digging a hole in the ground. He stopped when he thought he had something

deep enough. He used the shovel like a broom and swept everything he could into the

pit. He pushed the dirt over his excavation.

It didn’t look good to his eyes. He looked around and rolled a fallen tree over the pile.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

That looked a little better. He added some fallen limbs to the pile to completely cover

the mound.

If anyone found it, he doubted they would figure out what happened and who he was.

He decided he would have one more test run before coming back and picking up his

car. If he was tired, he could sleep in the car before driving it home. He couldn’t camp

out now.

Saxon had used up his power cleaning up his camp. He timed the recovery process.

He had to wait two minutes before the flight power came back. If he flew somewhere,

and there was problems, he would have two minutes before he could fly back out.

If he wanted to fly somewhere overseas, he might have to spend a large amount of

time in the water.

And he didn’t know what his top speed was at this point. Flying home had been

quick, but he had no way to judge if he had been moving really fast, or if his house

was closer than he thought when he could ignore the road network between the

mountain and Idaville.

How did he want to test how fast he could go before he drove home for the night?

He could fly to a random spot and see how long it took him to get there. Then he

could take a look on a map to figure distance traveled. It wasn’t perfect, but it should

give him some idea of how much ground he could cover before his flight wore out.

The only problem he saw was winding up on a place that wasn’t on the map. He

couldn’t figure the distance if he landed in unmarked territory.

He decided that he should try his experiment from home. He needed to eat, and he

should drive his car back before he got involved in any experimentation. He could

pick a point on a map and set everything he needed up on his kitchen table.

He looked around and gathered up the empty fire extinguisher and shovel before he

activated his power and flew down to his car. He realized he had no way to cut the

power off after floating to a stop beside the car. He stowed the gear and watched the

clock for his flight to run out.

Saxon got behind the wheel of his car when he thumped to the ground and started the

engine. He pulled out of the lot and headed for home. He planned to stop at any truck

stop on the way to get gas.

He admitted he wasn’t that afraid of running out when he knew he could just fly home

and get a gas can and fly back. It made being stuck not that much of a consideration.

And the built in arrows would tell him where he left his car so he could easily find it.

The only drawback was someone moving his car while he was gone.

He wondered if he could transfer his power to his car. A flying car would be

convenient. He dismissed the idea after some consideration. He didn’t know how the

keys worked in the first place. He had no way of knowing how to lift his car, and

what happened if he did a transfer but couldn’t transfer the power back.

He drove on, considering ways to test things as he went. He needed to know what

each button did. It was just luck that he had discovered the flying power first. Maybe

each key was a component that he could use separately. Could he use the components

together in different ways?

He thought that he could use the buttons in different combinations, but the

appearance of the clock meant that once activated he couldn’t go back to the well.

Whatever he picked was what he had until the clock counted down.

And he didn’t know if he could activate single keys at this point. He might only have

the ability to fly and the navigation system that went with it.

He put the thought away as he looked for a place to stop. He nodded when he saw an

exit with some lights ahead. Someone was open. He could get gas there and finish the

trip home.

He smiled at the thought he was making the same trip in hours in what had taken

minutes earlier. He must be really fast in the air.

The place with the most lights on looked like a truck stop. He drove up to a spot

beside a gas pump and cut the engine. He looked around as he got out. He and four

trucks were the only ones there.

His stomach growled to remind him of his exploding steaks. He needed food to

recharge. He smiled. He should order something while he was pumping his gas.

He walked inside the station and looked around. Part of it looked like a general store

with bagged food and bottled drinks lining the shelves. The other part looked like a

restaurant with a counter separating the public from the cooking area. A set of tables

alternated with booths. He counted two others in the dining area with the waitress and

cook.

They must drive two of the trucks outside. Where were the other two drivers?

Saxon decided it was none of his business. He was just there to get gas and food.

Once he had done that, he could get back on the road and finish his drive.

“How can I help you, hon?,” asked the waitress. She stood at the counter next to the

register. An order pad sat next to the adding machine.

“I need to fill up and grab a quick bite to eat,” said Saxon. “Could I have a burger and

fries?”

“Drink?,” asked the waitress.

“Coffee is good,” said Saxon.

“Go over to the register by the door to pay for your gas,” said the waitress. She leaned

over the counter and pointed across the other part of the store. “Bill will take care of

that for you.”

“Thanks,” said Saxon. “Let me get my gas. I’ll be right back to get my food.”

“No problem,” said the waitress. “We’ll get it done for you in a jiffy.”

Saxon nodded. He crossed back over to the store part of the truck stop and looked

around. He saw an old guy sweeping the floor with a dust mop and thought this must

be Bill.

“The lady said to come see you about paying for my gas,” said Saxon.

“That’s right,” said Bill. “How much do you need?”

“Could I have ten dollars worth?,” said Saxon. “That should get me back home.”

“Sure,” said Bill. “Heading far?”

Bill walked behind the counter and stood beside the register. He put in numbers for

the payment of the gas. He took the ten and put it in the register.

“I’m headed down to Idaville,” said Saxon.

“That’s a ways,” said Bill.

“I thought I was going camping up north, but my gear was wrecked,” said Saxon.

“I’m headed home.”

“Good luck with the rest of your weekend,” said Bill. He nodded as he slouched to

where he had leaned his dust mop against a shelf.

“Thanks,” said Saxon.

He went out and pumped his gas. He drove the car into an empty slot in front of the

building when he was done. He should be home in a couple of hours. He could check

to see if he had some real food in his refrigerator when he got there. He doubted a

burger and fries would be enough for the rest of the night.

He thought he might still have a steak in his fridge. He wasn’t sure. He hoped he

hadn’t brought them all to feed the bears.

The waitress put his food on the counter after he took a stool. He smiled at the sight.

He wondered if his flight needed to be fed. The energy for the jets had to come from

somewhere.

It was another question he would have to think about while he was testing his ability.

He might need to eat more so he could fly more without burning up.

He wolfed down his food. He sat back. Hunger still gnawed at him. He looked at the

menu on the counter. They sold ice cream. Maybe he should get some of that.

“Would you like anything else?,” asked the waitress. She picked up the empty plate.

“Could I have two servings of ice cream,” said Saxon. Maybe that would calm his

stomach down.

“I’ll add it to your ticket,” said the waitress. She took the empty plate away. She

returned with two large bowls of vanilla/chocolate mix ice cream and put that in front

of him.

“Thanks,” said Saxon. He dug into the ice cream. It felt good. This was what he

needed to cool the fire in his stomach.

He added that to the facts he knew about his new skill. He needed to eat more if he

used it more than twice a day. He would have to guess at what the actual cost was to

his system.

He wondered what other things he would find out in the days ahead.