Then at the men around him.
“From now on,” he said, “we fix blind spots.”
That became more than a sentence.
Within a month, the Steel Vultures began offering free evening workshops to local families.
They were careful with what they called them.
Not tactical training.
Not fear seminars.
Situational awareness.
Basic home security.
What suspicious behavior actually looked like.
When to call police.
How to document without confronting.
How teenagers could tell adults when something felt wrong without being dismissed as dramatic.
Rose helped design the health and emergency sections.
Lucas taught first aid.
Walsh volunteered to inspect lighting and dead zones at two local youth centers.
Jojo discovered he was surprisingly good at teaching basic vehicle safety to high-school students and complained about it constantly while never missing a session.
Nora attended the first workshop.
She refused to stand onstage.
So Lucas sat beside her at a folding table.
A parent asked, “How did you know someone was behind the door?”
Nora answered carefully.
“I didn’t.”
The room became quiet.
“I knew the sound didn’t match the explanation everyone else had already decided on.”
The parent frowned.
“What explanation?”
“The wind.”