12 Days of Fiction 2017: Day 7.

Nocturnal Aerobatics

Damn.

Two cops, man and woman, armed and shouting at me. This was a big piece of bad news. I’d need to slam them, make them forget with a spell, and Maren would have to delete all electronic traces of use afterwards.

But I was so tired.

Perhaps I was still feeling the aftermath of the retardator spell, because I had the sensation everything moved too slowly.

“Allow me,” I heard.

The cops clutched at their ears, dropping to the ground. There, they twitched two of three times and remained still.

“And now…”

I saw codes dancing before my eyes. Database entries removed and files deleted.

“Move, Becca,” Maren said. “They have reinforcements incoming. I’ll ask for a cab.”

I stumbled out, still not feeling completely myself.

“You’ve overexerted,” Maren was saying. “Try to breathe in, breathe out. Relax. But not too much, Becca. I need you awake.”

“Too… tired…” I remember myself saying.

“Right lift, Becca.”

The lift was already there, its door sliding open to let me in. Something odd.

“We’re.. going up?”

“There are more cops… Two minutes out. There’s no way we’d make it. I’ve got a plan.”

“Your last plan… didn’t go that well.”

“Thank you for reminding me,” Maren said. “Rest for a second.”

The lift wall felt almost comfortable.

“Don’t fall asleep. We’re almost there… Now.”

The door opened. It was the penthouse. An apartment entrance to my left, a staircase to my right.

“Take the stairs. It’s only one flight. I’ve already unlocked the door at the end.”

I stepped out and found myself on the rooftop. I heard the door click locked behind me.

“Right, I’ve altered the records. They won’t know we’ve used this exit. And now…”

“Don’t tell me you want me to jump,” I said. The wind was already helping: I felt a bit better, but I was still dizzy.

“Well…”

“Maren, I am an acrophobic. I guess you know it…”

“We can also wait here. They don’t know we used that exit. But if they send air support…”

A part of my brain that seemed to be capable of working correctly asked the necessary question.

“What code did the cops… use? Suspected burglary?”

“Aggravated, possible victims.”

“Then they’ll use a chopper. If you’ve not detected it yet, we’re… being lucky.” I looked around me. I saw the clean air conditioning units, the solar panels glinting in the moonlight. Was it that late?

“Where?” I asked.

“To your left. I can show you better…”

“Don’t give me a side view!”

“Right.”

“Let me rest,” I said. “As much as possible.” Point of fact, it was good that night had fallen. I saw the rooftop and the next building, which looked a safe distance away, but not much more. I tried not to think of how high we were.

“Breathe in, breathe out,” Maren started singing. “Rest, relax, concentrate. Listen to my voice…”

Did other people do this? My relationship with Maren was, at this point, almost symbiotic. There she was, leading me through meditation techniques, allowing me to recover my strength and my resolve, while at the same time she was monitoring the police frequencies and who knows how many more things. And she filtered what she thought I didn’t need to know.

And then she said what I was dreading to hear.

“Do you think you could use a flying spell?”

By then, I was already calm enough. Or maybe it’s because I’ve always been reckless enough.

“I can try.”

“Then we’ll have to do it now, or they’ll see us.”

“Alright. You guide me, Maren.”

I closed my eyes. I took a deep breath, and then another. I felt exhausted, but I searched the spell database once more.

“Start running now!”

I did. I couldn’t afford to open my eyes. My shoulder blades tinged, then started burning. I knew what was going on.

“Leap and activate spell in 3… 2… 1… now!”

I jumped. I called in my last reserves.

Maren showed me a recreation later. A part of my brain liked to see that tiny clone of me with those red wings open wide, boosting my vault just enough to let me reach the next building. Yet another part couldn’t help seeing the drop below me and was terrified, and awed that I had managed to make the jump.

But that night I just felt the cold wind blowing against my face for a couple of seconds, and then I hit the floor of the next rooftop. My training took over me and I rolled with the impact, gaining more than a few bruises with my stunt.

Maren unlocked the rooftop door and, limping, I slid through.

We were safe. For now.