Overflowing trash barrels and stacks of flattened boxes lined the walls of the dirty back alley behind the apartment. Sturm and Max had slipped down this pass to keep out of sight while they plotted a way to the top of the building. Initially preoccupied with the thought of Eldrich’s order to kill those who attempt to escape the perimeter, the boys hadn’t initially identified a much more obvious problem with their directive:
Max was too heavy to take up such a position.
Aside from the difficulty he’d face scaling the building, there was a significant possibility that he’d cause the collapse of any roof he set foot on.
“Done… That should do it, for now,” said Sturm, swiping the paintbrush across Max’s helmet one final time to complete the black bar-cross.
“Alright, lemme see.”
Sturm removed a small mirror from his pocket and struggled to find a distance that could capture Max’s broad, calcified cranial shield. After a moment of difficulty, the swordsman found the appropriate angle and distance.
“Aw, come on… It’s crooked, man…” groaned Max, rearing up and swiping his claw across his helmet’s front plate.
After placing the brush atop a paint can next to the dingy brick wall, Sturm crossed his arms and leaned in to reflect on his work. “I’m not exactly an artist, Max. Besides, you can barely tell.”
“Bullshit!” the boy huffed back. “If I can see it in a mirror, everybody can see it!”
“Maybe next time you’ll consider how your armor looks to the general public,” Sturm sighed “Why would you choose to look like that, anyway? You look like something that crawled out of the bay.”
“I put my shield on my head to keep it mobile and my hands free,” Max explained, somewhat aggravated. “It’s heavy though, so the tail keeps me from falling on my face. The claws help on soft ground, too- let me turn faster.”
Sturm wasn’t entirely convinced. “That makes sense, I suppose. But what about the rest of it? You know, the overall look? Couldn’t it have been a bit more… human?”
“I dunno, man,” answered Max, looking up the wall toward a ledge above. “It just felt… right, I guess.”
“If you say so…” Sturm replied, shaking his head with skepticism.
Gazing upward, Max mulled the possibility of leaping to the next level. Though he was fairly confident that he could leap to such a height, doing so would only increase the likelihood of falling through the roof.
“Ya know, I gotta be honest…” said Max, glancing back toward Sturm, “I don’t think this is gonna work.”
Sturm returned a nod. “Yeah, I was thinking the same thing. You’re going to have to stay down here while I take position on top of the complex. Will you be alright with that?”
“Guess I gotta be. How are ya gonna get up there, though?”
A slight, excited smile crept across Sturm’s lips. “So, if you’re willing to hear me out, I actually had an idea about that…”
“Oh yeah?” Max replied, “Hit me with it, then…”
Several blocks away, Gustavo stood on the open rooftop of a three-story bank. Armed with binoculars, he scanned the horizon, and streets below, searching for peculiar activity. Reacting to a stiff, frigid breeze, the boy placed his free hand atop his head to keep his ski cap from being knocked away.
“Have you spotted anything?” inquired Magnolia, stepping around a large dome in the center of the roof.
“Nothing,” answered Gustavo, turning toward the girl as he dropped his binoculars away from his face. “What about on your side?”
“Oh, yes, actually!” she exclaimed, feigning excitement. “Some lovely birds are fluttering about, a rat in the exhaust pipe, and I do believe an elderly gentleman winked at me! Truly, this has been an enlightening experience and I’m quite glad we came out here on this fine afternoon.”
Gustavo sighed and peered back over the edge through his binoculars. “Just say you didn’t see anything.”
A quiet gurgling bubbled from the far end of the rooftop, momentarily capturing Magnolia’s attention. There, uncannily bent over the raised brick lip as it lurched toward the ground below, was one of Pauritsch’s mud creatures.
Shivering uncomfortably, Magnolia folded her arms and frowned. “I will never get used to having those things around…”
Blissfully unaware of its partner’s contempt, the earthen construct continued to drip dark silt from its mouth down to the street below. “Okay, are you ready, Max?”
“Hell yeah, let’s give it a shot!”
A small whirlwind whipped up around Sturm’s ankles, blasting dust and small pieces of garbage away from his boots. Preparing to execute the agreed-upon plan, Max crouched down and braced his claws against the ground. To make certain that their timing matched perfectly, Sturm began to count aloud.
“Three…”
“Two…”
“One!”
On the final count, Sturm jumped up onto the flattened front plate of Max’s ossified helmet and compacted his body downward like a spring. Max complimented the motion by tilting his head down before snapping his neck back up while thrusting toward the sky. Just as he was to be launched from his friend’s head, Sturm collapsed the vortex beneath his feet, causing a small explosion of air. The results far exceeded anything either boy was individually capable of and Sturm, with a booming gust, was propelled well beyond the fifth story.
“Holy shit!” cried Max, peering up through shadowed eyeholes.
Sturm had cleared the apartment roof by nearly ten meters. Coming back down, he generated a cushion of air beneath his feet to soften his landing. The plan went off without a hitch, with Sturm now in a position to stand sentry over the surrounding city blocks.
“Hey!” shouted Max, “Everything good up there?!”
Leaning back over the edge, Sturm returned an “OK” sign. “Yeah, it’s cold, windy, and empty! I must be able to see the city for kilometers, though!”
Feeling the slightest bit jealous, Max dragged a clawed foot across the ground. “Alright, alright! Just yell if ya need me!”
Turning his attention back to the rooftop, Sturm began to traverse its length. It was unlikely that an enemy would have found their way to such a place without giving away their presence, but in his eyes, it was better to be side. Save for some birds, however, Sturm ultimately found himself alone. For the next half hour, he would patrol around the roof while observing the commotion in the streets below.
Meanwhile, in order to appear busy in case any superior officer came across him, Max stomped laps around the apartment block. The bar-cross painted across his forehead plate identified his shambling, bestial form as a military asset, sparing the public from any more panic. While he remained an unusual sight, bizarre aberrances weren’t entirely unknown to the streets of Berlin. As the boy trudged on, he conversed with himself internally to keep boredom at bay.
Man, this sucks. I could probably hop up there from some of the lower parts of the building… or maybe even climb up with my claws. I’d definitely cause some serious damage on my way down, though… and I can’t really leave a few hundred kilos of calcium armor on the roof.
Max pondered any possible way he might join his friend on the rooftop for a while longer before a curious ringing caught his attention. Perking up heads up, the boy tried to discern what direction the sound was coming from.
Without mistake, it was the gentle chime of distant bells.
ns 15.158.61.51da2
