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"I need help. My leg was hurt before, but I slipped on your steps. I think I've broken something. There's blood, and a piece of bone sticking out. " He kept his leg below the level where she could see it.
"Oh my," she said. "Give me a minute. "
"Help. Please. The pain. So - much - pain. " Charlie coughed the way cowboys do when they are dying in the dirt and things are getting all dark.
He heard the latch being thrown, and then the inner door opened. "You're really hurt bad," she said.
"Please," Charlie said, holding his hand out to her. "Help me. "
She unlatched the screen. Charlie suppressed a grin. "Oh, thank you," he gasped.
She threw open the screen door and blasted him in the face with a stream of pepper spray. "I saw that Twilight Zone, you son of a bitch!" The doors slammed. The latch was thrown.
Charlie's face felt like it was on fire.
When he could finally see well enough to walk, as he limped back to his van, he heard a female voice say, "I'd have let you in, lover. " Then a chorus of spooky-girlish laughter erupted from the storm sewer. He backed against the van, ready to draw the sword from the cane, but then he heard what sounded like a small dog barking in the sewer.
"Where did he come from?" said one of the harpies.
"He bit me! You little fucker!"
"Get him!"
"I hate dogs. When we take over, no dogs. "
The barking faded away, followed by the voices of the sewer harpies. Charlie took a deep breath and tried to blink the pain out of his eyes. He needed to regroup, but then he was taking the old lady down, pepper spray or not.
It took him the better part of an hour to get into position, but once he was ready, he put down the cinder block, flipped open his cell phone, and dialed the number he'd gotten from information.
A woman answered. "Hello. "
"Ma'am, this is the gas company," Charlie said in his best gas-company voice. "My grid is showing pressure loss at your address. We're sending a truck right out, but you need to get everyone out of the house, right now. "
"Well, I'm the only one here right now, but I'm sorry, I don't smell gas. "
"It may be building up under the house," Charlie said, feeling proud of himself for being quick on his feet. Is there anyone else in the house?"
"No, just me and my kitty, Samantha. "
"Ma'am, please take the cat and go out by the street. Our truck will meet you there. Go right now, okay?"
"Well, all right. "
"Thank you, ma'am. " Charlie clicked off. He could feel movement inside of the house. He moved right to the edge of the porch roof and raised the concrete cinder block over his head. It'll look like an accident, he thought, like a cinder block fell off the porch roof. He was glad that no one could see him up here. He was sweating from the climb, his armpits stained, his trousers wrinkled.
He heard the door open and got ready to throw the cinder block as soon as his target emerged from under the roof.
"Good afternoon, ma'am. " A man's voice, out by the street.
Charlie looked down to see Inspector Rivera standing at the sidewalk, having just climbed out of an unmarked car. What the hell was he doing here?
"Are you the gas company?" said Mrs. Posokovanovich.
"No, ma'am, I'm from the San Francisco police. " He flashed his badge.
"They told me there was a gas leak," she said.
"That's been taken care of, m
