They didn't stop. They kept running as if they hadn't heard a thing he said. They weren't going to do anything. This wasn't the right people. He needed to keep looking.
So he pivoted off the air—
"Hey mister, I can help you."
He stopped and hovered down onto the ground. It was the voice of a little girl. She sounded just like his daughter—the daughter he lost. The voice was like a dagger through his heart, twisted a thousand times.
He looked down to see a young girl, around the age of six or seven. She gazed up at him with an innocence Nolan couldn't comprehend. He couldn't imagine not having seen the things he had seen. And he wanted to protect that innocence. He wanted to protect this girl.
With everything he had.
He was going to protect her with his life. He didn't know why. He didn't know how. But he was going to do it. No matter what.
"Are you lost?" he asked, a hint of concern in his eyes.
But behind the girl, he caught a glimpse of a woman running up to her small figure and grabbing her hand.
"Stay away from my daughter!" she exclaimed, her maternal instincts kicking in as she ran off with the girl.
The child looked back at Nolan one last time. Her eyes seemed to say: I care. And I feel sorry for you.
She was not mature. She was not smart. She was not wise. But she was the most perceptive of children. She wasn't afraid to help. She didn't have the fear of danger or the common sense that grown creatures had. It made her reckless—and she would get herself killed if left on her own.
But she knew when someone was hurt. And she was likely the only one who could ever truly fix a person.
Nolan snapped out of his thoughts and looked up to the sky.
He saw something falling from the heavens.
It was a missile.
And he sprang into action.