by T5 and The Eurostar
Edulcore Cicciotto awoke from the best sleep he'd had in years to the noise of sirens and someone knocking on the door. The knocking was hard and persistent. In a hazy state of mind, he looked around and took a bearing of his situation.
Loretta was beside him, covered in blood. Her abdomen had been opened, and the knife was still in the bed.
The knocking on the door was joined by a sharp voice. "This is the police... open the door!"
Outside on the street, a young man on a motorcycle smiled as he spoke into his comm unit. "This is Giorgio. The old man's new future recruit will be out of the game before he even knows about it."
"Well done. Come home and await further orders."
"Yes, sir!"
He started the bike and left, satisfied with a job well done.
Edulcore Cicciotto:
There is blood everywhere, all over me. Loretta is dead. I am naked. And the police are ramming at the door.
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. Fuckety-fuck!
There is only one way out, and no time to think.
I jump. Outside the window. The ground is four stories down.
Three.
Two.
One.
One.
One...
One...?
Am I dreaming?
Am I dead?
I AM FLYING!
I am totally naked, and I am flying in the Las Vegas night, below me millions of colored lights and three police cars in the alley next to a five-story building, where my ex-lover has been killed. By whom?
Why? Why am I flying?
Then I notice. I have wings.
No, better, my arms are wings!
I have feathers sprouting out of my arms, rows and rows of feathers, like the birds in Quantos' field guide.
I am a bird man, a human eagle!
This is not making any sense!
Flying is not easy. I feels like I've always been able to fly, but still it takes a lot of struggle. It's like swimming; I feel the resistance of the cold desert air over the complex surface of my wings.
I feel the microscopic streams of air flowing through the opening between each feather. I observe how I can change direction simply by making a slight movement with my feather-covered fingers.
It's like the dream I had in the mountain. Yet, this is reality.
Turner! I forget about him.
I look at the city below me like a map. Easily I find the appointed spot for the meeting. I close my wings, and I dive.
And just a few meters above the ground, I open the wings like a parachute, braking in the air, and land softly (well, not too softly; I have to work on this) right in front of an amazed Turner. He looks bewildered.
"Long story. Now I am wanted for homicide. I bet the police has my fingerprints, too."
Turner doesn't seem able to say a word, but his index finger points at my wings.
I look at them, and instantly the feathers disappear into the arms, leaving only a pronounced goose skin. "Um... well, this is as much a surprise to me as it is for you!" I say. "I need a shower and something to wear, if you don't mind."
Turner's hand goes to his head, but a second passes, and he is cool as always. "Fly over to the roof of the Mirage Hotel -- y'know, the place with the pyramid -- and wait for me there. Don't move for any reason! I'm going to win the first of the money there at a slot machine. I'll buy you some clothes and find a room for us. I'll meet you on the roof in three hours." He runs away, shaking his head.
I am in the dark alley, naked like a worm. Fly there, he said.
At the thought, the feathers sprout out of my arms. Cool. It's a little painful, but not like the transformation I remember Danny Hearn having.
Danny, Tobias, Naecken, Mick, M'xy, Lance, Velo... how are they? I think about them so little now.
Fly there. Fly to the Caribbean? Can I do it? Leaving all behind, the killing, the police, the EPS? Turner? No, I can't do that.
The Mirage Hotel, the pyramid, easy to find, even from above. Turner is smart.
Okay, let's take flight. How?
I jump, waving the arms. I look ridiculous, I bet. I try many times. No, this is not the right way.
There are stairs from a fire escape dropping into the alley. I jump over the ladder, and make my way to the top of the building.
Then, without thinking too much, I jump out off the roof. This time it's easy. I open my arms and slide over the breeze.
I am at the Mirage rooftop in a few minutes. I sit there, wrapping myself in the wings, fighting the cold air.
Who killed Lorelei?