Turbinio

Chocolate and Almonds

It had been a while at a steady pace and you were tired of riding through the streets, lost, meandering right behind Gyro.

He was silent, he hadn't let you explain the situation; and you could understand him, Johnny was the priority now. You were on the same horse you had come on, but with Slow Dancer following close behind. Gyro's cape fluttered hypnotically in front of you, its matte sheen mixing with the gold of his hair.

"Gyro, we've been looking for almost ten minutes now.'' You said, speeding up so that you were next to him and didn't have to shout. ''If he's been bleeding all this time, he might be dead.''

''No...'' He said in denial. ''I didn't teach the spin to that idiot so he wouldn't use it at a critical moment like this. I hope you're wrong, (Y/N).''

''I don't think Johnny is an idiot, but I also don't think he's even conscious enough to use the spin! Besides, why are we still looking in manholes?''

''Have you forgotten that he can't go far without his horse? The only place he can get around with the spin is through the sewers.''

''Ah, he seems to have gone pretty far, then!''

Far, but not that far from your current position, you thought as you saw Gyro suddenly stop Valkyrie, forcing your horse to do the same without you noticing.

As prepared as you were for the worst, the only way you could describe what you had seen would be in all its insolent detail: the impatient Valkyrie shaking her head, annoyed by her rider's sudden agitation as he got down from the saddle; Gyro, who took one of his steel balls out of his holster and dropped it on the ground, on top of a manhole cover, ready to repeat a process he had already done about five times in those ten minutes; the dust and pollution of the sidewalk stirring and rising as waves of mysterious energy agitated and reverberated all around it, including your bones; your trembling hands; a sound of birds and trees, and your rumbling heart...

"Have you found anything?'' You asked, feeling the blood rush to your head when you heard Gyro's breathing and voice.

''Maybe. Can you lift this manhole cover while I inspect the next one?''

"Sure.''

Although hesitant, you did so as soon as you slipped off the horse. With some difficulty, you managed to fit your fingers where you thought they should be and lifted the heavy manhole cover, dreading the morbid possibility of finding a corpse inside. But, to your relief and also concern, Johnny wasn't there. You dropped the manhole cover in a huff as two cockroaches climbed up your legs, making a clatter of concrete and iron echo through the empty street. Gyro looked at you briefly, and you didn't care about anything but shaking your legs to get those cockroaches off you - which, by God, you only saw two of, but it's impossible for there to be only two cockroaches in a manhole.

You spent a long time trying to get rid of the chill that those tiny legs full of tiny spikes caused on your skin. Now it was Gyro's turn and, shuddering at the thought, he opened the manhole cover just a little with his hands and then kicked it away with his feet.

Being close enough to Gyro, you can feel the shock run through him at the sight. What made him jump back and exclaim something Italian, however, was not the cockroaches; it was Johnny.

"Cazzo, Johnny!'' Recovering from his fright, Gyro knelt down next to the manhole again, ready to pull the languid, pale body out of the narrow hole. ''(Y/N), the zombie horse! It's in my bag, get my bag!''

But you didn't do it straight away, as much as you wanted to; you needed a few seconds to look at Johnny, to try to convince yourself that he wasn't dead, which was a relatively difficult task. From there, you couldn't see even the faintest movement of his breathing or even the life in his eyes, which was covered by blood that oozed faintly from a hole in his cheek.