So, I stopped a bomb (well, not exactly)
A lot of people ask for my help. It’s not very often someone asks for my help in stopping a bomb, but that’s what happened Sunday morning. A scientist at a research faculty was going to blow up the building because he was fired by the company. Time was short and I was far away. I flew there, staying low tot he ground, passing through the country side as the faculty was deep in the country, away from the city. I was flying pretty fast, but not fast enough, so I used my time slowing ability (Chaos Control) to travel even faster. Everything became a blur as I flew over the dirt roads. I started to slow down once I saw a large warehouse building.
Standing outside on the dirt field was the guy who contacted me. The man, who I never caught his name, was about 30 something years old with a skinny build and messy, brown hair. His outfit was simply blue jeans and white lab coat.
“Thank goodness you’re here,” he said.
“I must admit, I’ve never stopped a bomb before,” I told him.
“Well, this bomb is set up in a different way from what you’ve see in the movies. There are actually two panels that need to be destroyed that act as a link to stopping the bomb.”
“How hard is it to get to these panels?”
“Well,” he paused for a moment. “One is guarded in a pin by zombies and the other is at the end of an electrical obstacle course.”
“Damn, I’ll guess I’ll deal with the zombies first.”
“Alright,” he pointed to a chain-linked fence to the west side of the building. “That’s where that panel is. The other,” pointed to the other side of the building, “is back behind there.
“I’m on it,” I said and flew into the air toward the zombie pit.
I didn’t have time to fight through the zombies kept within the chain-linked fence, so I flew over them toward this large black box hanging on the wall. The box was actually a PC hard drive case. I flew toward it, ripped it off, letting it fly backward, hitting a few zombies that were trying to sneak up to me.
I flew up and headed toward where the next panel was located. On my way, I saw the scientist who built the bomb. He was cussing in a rage. He had just released the trigger to let the bomb explode. I made my way to the next panel. This panel wasn’t going to be as easy. In order to get to the panel, one must climb up a ladder, hold onto a set of horizontal bars (picture monkey bars from a playground), and then pull up onto another ladder through a tube. There were electrical wires everywhere and one false move and you’ll be cooked.
My contact ran up to me. “Well, what are you waiting for?”
“I just need to figure out a way to get through this safely.”
But I was out of time. The bomb went off. I turned around to face the explosion. My contact ran away while I stood there, ready for the impact. I could hear the cries of people dying in the blast. I held my hands out like a person trying to push a car against the blast wave of the bomb. Have you ever tried to push a car up a hill? Well, that’s what it felt like trying to push this bomb blast back. The blast wasn’t moving and neither was I. It was a stalemate, but I was starting to give away. I prayed to the Gods to give me more strength, and they answered. A cool wind blew at me from behind, going inside my body. I gave the blast-wave a good push back into itself and the bomb imploded into itself.
The damage the bomb did was not reversed, but at least I managed to stop the bomb from reaching even further. That’s a good, right? All in a day’s work I guess. Now, the story of my time at my day job wasn’t that interesting. I busted my ass cleaning the lab for a big visit on Tuesday (which thankfully I’m off on that day). I used my time slowing powers to try and get as much of the lab cleaned. My coworker in the lab wasn’t feeling to well, so I let him go home early, but I still kept things under control. We weren’t too busy, so of course that helped. What’s worth noting is what got me upset when I first walked into the lab. I came into work and saw a pile of dust on the floor right next to the dustpan with the broom a few feet away. Seriously, sweeping up that dust into the pan isn’t hard like trying to stop a fucking bomb.