Mom, I'm Bulletproof

Chapter 6: Murder in London, part 5

The other man stood motionless, staring down at Sam. He wore all red, with baggy-sleeved robes obscuring his figure, except for his broad shoulders. The man's hood was a long, cone-shaped piece that pointed upward. It had only two thin slits for eyes. In one of his gloved hands, he held a long whip.

"What are you..."

Before Sam could finish that question, the man raised his arm and brought it down, with the rope following his every motion. An ear splitting "crack" ripped through the air, followed by a combined burning and stinging sensation on Sam's left arm.

The room filled with black smoke again, making Sam cough. He could no longer see the man. As he couldn't stop coughing, he turned around and hurried toward the fire exit to the roof.

Stumbling out into the fresh air, Sam kept coughing. He thought he might puke, but he didn't. He looked at the emergency exit, wondering if the stranger would follow him, but only more smoke emerged from the open door.

Sam heard a mechanical whirring sound in the distance and saw two helicopters in the distance, silhouetted against the orange sunset.

He then felt another powerful breeze come out of nowhere, hitting his back. He heard the howl of the wind and saw the helicopters turn away. Knowing what was coming, Sam ran toward the emergency exit, but he wasn't fast enough. Another gust of wind swept across the roof, lifting Sam up into the air. Again, Sam kept his eyes and mouth shut, but there was no way he could control his arms and legs against the force of the wind.

This gust lasted longer than the others. Sam again thought he might puke as his body spun and twirled uncontrollably in the air, and his head pounded with the deafening roar.

Instead of slamming against a flat surface, Sam felt several small strikes against him, like the strike of the stranger's whip, but slightly less painful. The wind died down and Sam heard a rustling sound. Several small, sharp objects poked him all over his body.

Sam opened his eyes to find himself in a tree, facing straight down at some grass far below him. He reached out and grabbed some of the larger branches around him, awkwardly climbing downward. Once he was low enough to the ground, Sam went ahead and dropped. He hit the wet grass with a gasp and stumbled up to his feet. His body ached all over.

He recognized his location – St. John's Square, a bunch of posh buildings surrounding a patch of fenced-in grass. As it grew dark, Sam slowly, wearily walked from the square to the nearest tube station. Miraculously, he still had his wallet on him, although the wind had blown off both of his shoes. He made it all the way to his flat, even in just his socks.

* * * *

Sam showered, ate and tried to relax, but there was no way he could just go to sleep. He put on the TV, only to learn that the destruction of the Coliseum's roof had been blamed on a "freak windstorm," and that no casualties had been reported. Sam knew better.

On the plus side, the news reported that the donations were already pouring in from all over the world to restore the Coliseum's architecture to its original condition.

* * * *

The police came around to question Sam. He told them truth – mostly. He said he had been on his way to work when he heard the explosion. He arrived outside the theater when the freak wind came along, and he held onto a lamppost to avoid getting blown down the street with the rest of the onlookers.

He didn't tell the police the rest.

Sam next got a call from the World Astronomy Council, saying his employment had been terminated due to "unfortunate unforeseen circumstances." The council forwarded him six months' pay and an assurance of another six months of health insurance.

"I guess that's it," he said to his Bela Lugosi poster.

* * * *

Sam moped around his flat for two days, and then decided that was enough. He had to get out, so he went on the Jack the Ripper tour, just as Friday often suggested. It was indeed an eye-opening experience. The guide led Sam and a small group of tourists not around famous London sites, but through the dank, shadowy alleys around Whitechapel – after sundown.

Sam bought a copy of the tour guide's book, which featured an illustration on the cover of a man in a top hat and black cloak against a red background. At his flat, Sam stared at the cover late into the night. It wasn't too dissimilar to Bela Lugosi as Chandu.

"Jack the Ripper is not cool," Sam said to his poster. "He was a psycho killer. But, I have to admit, I like this style."

Sam called his father the next day, finally telling him he was out of a job. He told his dad he planned to stay in London and job search, maybe land a role teaching.

But Sam wasn't looking for a job. It was time for the real London experience.

* * * *

The Coliseum reopened with much hype. Sam was allowed one-time access to what was left of the A-floor to gather any personal belongings that may have survived. He told them he had a few things in the basement, and building security let him down there. Given only a few minutes to himself, Sam raided the wardrobe storage, a huge vault of long-forgotten theater costumes.

Sam easily found leftovers from The Nutcracker ballet including the toymaker character's black cloak and top hat. He stuffed them both into his backpack and went home. There, he saw himself in the mirror wearing them, along with his own all-black shirt and pants. He added a white scarf around his neck. It felt right.

Strolling around London in his new hat, scarf and cape, no one laughed or pointed at Sam. In a town as diverse as London, he was just another eccentric. With only a few months left to enjoy the city, he wanted to make the most of it.

* * * *

One afternoon, Sam ducked into a side street in search of a hole-in-the-wall pub he had read about, when a finger tapped on his shoulder from behind. Sam jumped with surprise and spun around. There was the Ergosphere, again dressed all in black with his round sunglasses.

"Howdy," the Ergosphere said. He placed a finger on Sam'sforehead, causing Sam to fall unconscious.

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Next: Any weird dreams lately?