"What?"
"Johnson," Walt said. "Walt Johnson?"
The officer puckered up his lips. "Okay, friend, we'll find out more about you in a little bit. Let's get your drink."
They entered the warm roadside office. The officer crossed to the cooler and drew a glass of water.
"Thanks." Walt drank thirstily. "More?"
The officer complied; as yet he had not taken his eyes off the mutant.
Holding his glass, empty for a second time, Walt glanced around the office, balancing nervously on the balls of his feet. When his eyes rested on a spot behind the officer, he said, "What's that?"
The officer turned. "What?"
Walt tried to concentrate on the invisibility projection. He started for the door.
"What?" the officer repeated, puzzled. He looked around. "I'll be damned! Now where—"