Retajos de historias que siguen sin ser contadas 02.
“Run, Nick, Run…!”
Her voice sounds urgent inside my mind… And yes, I do. I run as fast as I can, my throat and my chest burning in pain almost as bad as my knees. ‘Cause I’m old, too old and probably too late. I try and fight as hard as I can against the multitude escaping the impossible down there in Trafalgar Square sixty or seventy yards ahead of me. And I know, believe me.
I know she’s dead.
She’s been for a long while. But it doesn’t matter, not really. Not anymore. And I know something else…
My heart beats like crazy when I see the creature, the big old serpent from the myths in the middle of the deserted square, facing angry a trembling Collins. Trembling alright but standing there, not a step backwards; the last bastion to guard that little girl behind her…
And I shout aloud and swear and curse myself since I’m almost there but not yet...
The snake hisses and catches a long and slow breath of air, its poison and fire growing ready.
And I run and I roar desperate as something sharp and heavy appears and shines in my right hand; and I know it’s my time. Time to face my destiny. The ghost of Collins turns towards me and gives me a last, loving smile…
All I see is a giant burst of white flames and the defiant blade, facing an almost certain death…
But ten seconds later, the dragon goes back, amazed.
‘Cause I’m still standing; the kid’s alive, my sword is alight with fire and my anger feels like all hell burning. Just like my breathing…
A fierce, twisted grin crosses my face.
-Trust me, your day’s only gonna get worse.
