by Taylor Buck
“Chester, I’m on a rooftop overlooking the Piazzo. Do you have him?”
“…ack?... can…hear me?” Chester’s response returned weakly among harsh static.
The sound of the festivities below rose loudly into the air and Jack covered his right ear, trying to block out the noise. In his other ear, all he heard was static…
Just then, Jack’s phone rang. He looked down at the caller ID—it was Valerie. Not a good time Val. But he had to answer. He always answered his phone when his girls called. If he didn’t, they would think something was wrong. Jack crouched down and steadied his footing atop the roof tiles.
“Val?”
“Hi Dad,” she said.
“Hey honey, what’s going on?” he said, ducking behind a chimney to block the crowd noise.
“I just never talked to you yesterday… I was worried…”
Jack could hear the fear in his daughter’s trembling voice. His heart ached to hear her like that.
“Sweetie, I’m ok. Everything’s fine.” Jack kept his eyes on the crowd below.
“Okay. It’s just… I really miss Mom,” Valerie said before erupting in tears. Jack could hear her sobbing on the other line. He turned away to focus on his daughter.
“Sweetie, I’m sorry you’re missing Mom. I am too.” As he spoke those words and heard his daughter crying, Jack was instantly transported from his current situation and entirely fixed on his daughter. She missed her mother…and he wasn’t there to comfort her. He fought the emotions that were flooding in, but soon tears welled up in his own eyes. “I miss her too… I miss her so much,” he said.
Both father and daughter shared a moment of tears together as they held the phone to their ear. Jack wanted nothing more than to be with Valerie, to embrace her and share the grief together. He was sorry that he hadn’t had a chance to talk through everything with them as a father should. Was he doing the wrong thing? He had acted instinctively. He needed to come to tend to Kathleen—however, once he realized that he didn’t know when she would awaken… he shifted focus. She was attacked. Someone intentionally tried to harm her—kill her even. The thought enraged Jack. He knew vengeance had become his motive, but he had embraced it—he needed to in order to find out what happened to Kat. He wanted his wife back. And now it seemed he was getting closer and closer to finding out what happened to her. But was he neglecting his family? Jack suddenly felt a deep ache in the pit of his stomach. He longed to be with his daughter, and Kat… all of them… like it used to be.
He wiped the tears from his eyes. “Sweetie?” he said. “It’s tough to say what the future holds with your mom. But you can bet that no matter what… she loves you and she’s proud of you. We both are.”
Valerie sniffed back a few tears before she answered. “Thanks, Dad… I know.”
“She’s a fighter, Val,” Jack said. “She’s not gonna give up. You’re mom’s the toughest woman I’ve ever known. And the girls we’ve raised are just as tough…if not tougher,” he said.
Valerie managed a weak laugh. “Thanks Dad.”
“How’s Annie?”
“She misses Mom too. I think she still thinks that she’s coming back.”
Jack fought the ache. “She is coming back,” he assured. “Both of us are coming back. It’s just a matter of when. I need you to hang tight for a few more days. We’re both coming back— together. Okay?”
“…okay, Dad.”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
She hung up. Jack stared at the phone for a moment before he pressed END. He crouched down and held his head in his hands. For the first time since hearing of Kat’s accident, he fully absorbed how serious a situation the Cullen family was in. Even seeing Kat in the hospital… it didn’t sink in. It felt surreal—like it was a dream… certainly not reality. Jack looked out over the crowd of people below. He watched through glazed eyes as they laughed and danced—drinking and howling.
“Jack.”
“What…?”
“Jack!”
He emerged from his dreamlike state to the sound of his name.
“Jack! Can you hear me?” the voice yelled through the earpiece.
“Chester...” Jack paused. “Yes, I hear you.”
“Where the hell did you go? I’ve got him!” Chester shouted back angrily.
Jack picked himself up and emerged from his thoughts. “I’m in front of a café… edge of the Piazza. Where are you?”
“North end… by the fountain,” Chester responded.
Jack located the fountain at the northern end of the piazza—Fonte Gaia. He scanned the people around it and spotted movement, not from the dark figure, but from a fluttering object hovering above the crowd—the hummingbird. As he honed in on the bird, he saw the dark figure leading just a few feet in front.
“I see you. It…it looks like you’re headed right to me,” Jack said.
Jack positioned himself on a low hanging awning above the alleyway where the figure was heading. He noticed a smell right away, a pungent odor… Excrement. It was a recognizable scent. Jack soon realized he was standing directly above a stable. The city had built a makeshift barn to keep the horses before the race. Underneath him stood the racehorses for tomorrow’s games. He could hear them swaying and breathing gently beneath him.
The figure moved in closer and weaved through the crowd. Some people standing nearby noticed the hummingbird and began pointing it out. One man leapt and tried to grab for it.
“Move up, Chester. You’re too low,” Jack directed while he surveyed the figure moving along the outside perimeter. He was now within ten yards. Jack grabbed the awning and steadied himself.
Ready … Now!
Jack leapt from the awning and landed forcefully onto the dark figure. The two bodies collapsed on the hard stones while the bust landed with a metallic CLANG and rolled to the curb. The figure seemed to have rolled out of the fall amazingly well… almost ninja-like. Jack picked himself up and faced the man straight on. The stranger was dressed from head-to-toe in a dark athletic suit. A black facemask obscured facial features, showing only eyes. Up close, the man appeared much more diminutive in size than imagined from the hotel room. Is this the same man? Jack was confused… but he wouldn’t dare lose another opportunity. He barreled towards the man with full force, ready to unleash his rage. The man held his ground. He didn’t move. Instead he positioned his arm out in front of him, across his body—like bullfighter holding a muleta. As Jack closed within a few feet, the man swung his arm outward in an arching line at eye level and quickly turned his body away. Jack immediately felt a stinging sensation in his eyes. He continued forward but only enough to clip the figure with one hand from the side… not the angle of impact he had intended. They again went tumbling to the ground. However, Jack was now in considerable pain…his face… his temples. It seemed the pain was shooting down into his chest too. He stood up and saw the figure scoop up the bust and run off. Jack started to pursue, but found it difficult to stand up and focus.
“Chester!” he stammered. “He did something to me… I…I can’t see.”
Jack heard a sound close to his right ear, a whirring sound, as the hummingbird flew right by his head and continued down the alley.
“You better pull it together, Jack. He’s getting away.”
Jack tried to run then swayed. He threw his hands out to his sides, attempting to find balance, but his equilibrium was completely off and he started tipping over. He put one hand down on the cobblestone to catch himself.
“I don’t think I can wa…” Jack felt a wave of nausea flood his body and he bent over with his hands resting on his knees, holding the weight of his upper torso—which at the moment seemed considerable. Suddenly, he tasted a salty, bitter tang in his mouth—bile. His belly lurched violently as stomach acid and warm liquid escaped through his mouth and splashed out onto the sidewalk. A man and woman walking by on the other side of the alley jumped out of the path of the vomit.
They scurried away, muttering something about drunken tourists. Jack spit more stomach acid onto the ground. He used his sleeve to wipe his mouth then attempted to gain his bearings.
My god, what is wrong with me? Was I poisoned?
The figure had clearly thrown something at him… something he had ingested. Jack needed to get help…but he couldn’t let the man get away. His vision got cloudy. A closing veil of darkness began to devour his eyesight. Suddenly, both his daughters surfaced into his thoughts. Valerie was there, holding her sister’s hand. Annie seemed to be mouthing something to him… saying something over and over, but Jack couldn’t hear her… He could only watch her lips move. She kept repeating the same word again and again, pleading in desperation. It nearly drove him mad when suddenly he realized what she was trying to tell him… one of the last things he remembered her saying…
Aunty don’t… Aunty don’t…
Antidote.
Jack needed to remove the poison from his body immediately.
“Chester, I… I think I was poisoned,” Jack said.
“You what? Okay, Jack I’ll be right there. Don’t move.”
Jack looked up. His vision returned momentarily. He could see the figure disappearing down the dark alley. He was getting away. Jack stood up. He felt slightly better having vomited; however, his mind was still foggy.
“He’s headed up Via delle Termini, in this direction. I’ll come to you, Jack. Don’t move,” directed Chester over the tiny earpiece.
Chester’s voice echoed between Jack’s ears. Then it became distant, like he was a million miles away. Jack heard a commotion behind him and felt something knock into him. He reeled around to see a large yellow, oddly-shaped head glaring down at him… The figure was large and towering. As Jack’s eyes adjusted he realized he was looking at… A giraffe.
The giraffe’s massive yellow face towered above him accompanied by a large green serpent at its side. The giraffe cocked its head to the side as it studied Jack’s reaction. Jack stared back and watched on as the giraffe stuck his tongue out at him… a long black slippery member protruded from the giraffe’s mouth and reached out toward Jack.
Am I hallucinating?
Just then he noticed the serpent’s tongue uncoil from its mouth and begin flickering in and out as its beady red eyes began to glow. Jack began to shrink back in horror as the animals moved toward him. They looked hostile. He stumbled backwards and met the brick wall behind him. Trapped. Jack had nowhere to go. He looked up and shielded his face with his arms.
Then he heard laughing. Deep laughing… in slow motion.
The giraffe and the serpent were clutching their chests and bellowing in laughter as they pointed at Jack.
“Mannaggia fessacchione!” The serpent exclaimed amidst the laughter. Just then, another figure emerged through the middle of the two animals—bigger even more so then the others. It had wings that stretched outward, its wingspan filling the small alley.
A dragon.
The dragon moved fast and floated toward Jack until its nostrils were just inches from his face. He could smell the strong smell of alcohol on its breath as it squawked at him loudly.
“Ciò che è sbagliato? Sei…ubriaco?”
They all erupted in laughter again. A nightmare—a horribly terrifying dream. Jack’s logic was telling him it wasn’t real… The creatures were taunting him and laughing as they danced around and roared at the moon. The music coming from the festivities seemed to grow louder and louder. The smell of fresh vomit lingered from the puddle along the curb. He felt sick again.
Get out, Jack. Now.
Jack moved slowly, standing up and clambering over to the door beside him. He fumbled with the lock, which to his surprise, unlatched easily. Then he disappeared inside the dark space.
Outside, the characters in the alley slowly grew silent as they watched. One of them stepped forward to yell something at Jack, but was cut short as the door swung wide and Jack emerged from the shelter. He seemed to be hovering in the darkness—floating as he emerged from the building. The characters looked on in bewilderment. The light from the piazza lamps reflected a black mass beneath Jack’s body. The void below him appeared to be glistening. This black mass began to move, revealing a shimmering coat of fur belonging to the creature Jack was sitting on—a black steed, its muscles rippling and glinting in the moonlight. Jack gripped the mane firmly and moved directly beneath the light from the lamppost. The horse blew hot air from its nostrils and faced downward, submitting to its rider.
The giraffe, snake and dragon stepped backward, confused. Jack directed the horse forward commandingly, and then with a sharp cry he shot off down the alley into the dark Siena night.
CHAPTER 27
SIENA, ITALY
SEPTEMBER 9
THE HORSE TORE DOWN the cobblestone alley, the pounding of its hooves echoing off the brick buildings as it galloped along. Jack ducked underneath brick archways and gripped the horse tightly with his legs as he navigated around the many cars parked along the narrow Vias. The cool wind rushing over his face helped to waken him from his daze.
“I’m on my way…” Jack said weakly.
“I told you to stay put!” retorted Chester. “What’s wrong with you?”
“I’m fine. I… I just can’t see very well.” Jack careened around a corner. He yanked the horse’s mane, pulling its neck in the opposite direction to counter balance the weight of the horse and try to guide it. “Stay with him, Chester. You need to follow him. Do not let him get away,” Jack commanded.
“Okay,” Chester said. “But how are you going to get here?”
“I’m… I’m on a horse.” Jack couldn’t believe what he just said. It was after he spoke it that he actually realized what he had done. He had stolen a racehorse from its stable.
“A horse?” Chester gasped. “Please tell me you’re kidding.”
Jack flew across a street and leaped over a hedge. Jack slid but kept his seat as they landed. The horse responded obediently to his every move. He hadn’t ridden bareback since he was a kid on his grandfather’s farm, but he still remembered his training—look, leg, rein… Stay high and stay forward. No rein this time, but the horse was well-trained and responding to leg pressure. He navigated the horse into a densely covered greenbelt with high shrubbery which reminded him of Central Park. Large oaks and cypress trees provided a canopy high above.
“Where did he go?”
“Viale dei Mille. I’m still behind him,” Chester said.
Jack knew the location. “North or south?”
“North.”
Jack dug his heels in and the horse soared across the grassy hillside. He went up over a knoll and burst through a hedge onto Viale dei Mille. He looked right, then left and spotted the dark figure, jogging much slower than he had seen earlier. He must be tiring.
“I’ve got him,” relayed Jack.
The horse galloped down the street. Jack leaned forward as he gained ground on the figure. He was surprised at the speed of the muscular beast—he had never ridden a true racehorse. It was fast—incredibly fast. He brought the horse up to the left side of the man, preparing to cut him off; then Jack did a double take. The man jogging at his side was not the man he had chased earlier. This was someone else… someone with a flabby midsection. It wasn’t even a similar looking dark figure. It was a man in a dark jumpsuit…with red headphones…out for an evening jog. The man looked up at Jack with a confused look before he noticed the massive horse next to him. Seeing the horse, the man shrieked and jumped off the sidewalk before tumbling awkwardly into a nearby bush.
Jack slowed down and came to a stop in front of a massive brick wall. He looked around—no sign of the figure… no hummingbird. He felt nauseous again and leaned forward on the horse.
“Chester, I…”
“Jack, hang on. I see you… my god, you are on a horse.”
Jack peered out beneath heavy eyelids. He could see Chester running down the road, way off in the di
stance. How had he gotten here so fast? The road was spinning now… Jack tried to stay awake. He had failed to capture the man in black. It may have been his only chance… He looked up to the sky and saw a glowing crest floating in the air. Two cherubs flanking an ornate coat of arms, with 6 orbs in a sphere shape. Jack thought he was hallucinating again, but then realized he actually wasn’t. In fact, he recognized the symbol and knew it well. It was the emblem that was most recognizable throughout Italy as a notorious family crest. It adorned cathedrals, piazzas, mausoleums, street corners and works of art throughout the land…
The Medici Crest.
Jack was face to face with it. He attempted to focus his eyes again as the crest passed in and out of focus. He was certain it was the Medici crest—the 6 orbs, or palles, indicated it was the genuine mark. As he focused, he realized the crest was not actually floating… it was attached to the large brick wall directly in front of him. The crest was roughly 15 feet tall, fixed upon the massive rampart in which it had been placed over 400 years ago. Jack then knew precisely where he was…
Fortezza Medicea. The Medici Fortress.
The ominous military stronghold built in the mid-sixteenth century by Duke Cosimo, a descendant of Cosimo the elder, as a fort in which the Florentine troops could keep watch over their rivals—the Sienese.
Jack stared at the crest. The palles seemed to be moving—rotating in a circular pattern… he tried to count them. The number of palles… 6… or 5, depending on if you include the top one—which Jack knew was a later addition. His head pounded—throbbing with pain. What do the orbs signify? Then it hit him… something jarred him back to reality for a moment.
The numbers really are significant. One…two…three…
The salty taste returned… he was going to be sick again. Jack laid his head across the soft mane of the horse and closed his eyes. He heard a voice calling in the distance.
Beware the mythical beast…
