Zodiac Story

Yellow Kites In A Tornado Of Our Own Making Part 2

to be put in harm's way. I follow you on social media, and that is why I was surprised

by your appearance at the café. It isn't often I see a familiar face in the capital of

Germany. It is standard that rescuers do not ask favours from those in need of

rescue, but I must ask that you grant me one boon. I would love for us to have

dinner together on Wednesday afternoon if you don't mind. I do admire your

portfolio, especially the places you have travelled and all of those photos! If you

aren't feeling well enough to meet, I have provided the perfect remedy to your

problems. It's under the table that I put the espresso shot on.

There was an envelope underneath the table, and as the girl wrenched it out, a medallion fell onto her chest. It was palm-sized and made of some strange dark grey metal. Divided into five sections, with a large central section, coloured yellow and black. The girl stared at it. No other remarkable characteristics, except the strange symbols on the front and the back. There was an upwards pointing triangle with a line, a curved line with a dot, a symbol that resembled the white part of yin-yang, and a stickman with a crescent on its head. Unlocking the latch, the girl marvelled at the contraption. On the edge was an extendable antenna that connected inside the medallion, while the inside contained a speaker, two left and right arrow buttons, and multiple coloured lights. One of the coloured lights was blinking yellow, so she extended the antenna and tapped on a small button.

"You found it?" The voice was unmistakable.

"Yes." The person who said not to call the police, was the doppelganger?

"Oh, how wonderful." Her voice carried a transatlantic accent. "Are you well enough to meet today?"

"Today?" It was Wednesday already?

"Yes, you were knocked out pretty hard by the storm. I'm glad you weren't more severely injured. Honestly." The girl observed the woman hitching her breath. "You will be well, well enough to stand if I believe so. There isn't anything wrong with you physically."

The call ended. The soreness and the pain were gone. The girl stood up and caught herself on the table. How? She couldn't leave the floor previously. Now she has the strength to stand, albeit with the help of a table. The note on the table with the espresso shot may have some answers, she thought. Drinking the entire shot, she unfolded the note.

You may be wondering how you have the strength to stand up. We can talk about it over dinner. I'm planning it as you read this. I hope you'll like the candles I chose: lemon-scented candles. I'm sure they will help loosen our tongues soon. A trick for a trick, as you like to say.

-P

The entire note smelled like the woman drenched the paper in lemon-scented perfume. The girl liked the smell of lemons, but she gagged from the potent stench. Why would anyone put that much perfume on a single note? Especially one with a large blank space...wait a minute.

A trick for a trick, huh? One of the oldest tricks the girl had learned was how to write secret messages with lemon juice from her friend. Conveniently, there was an unlit candle and a lighter nearby. Within one minute, she had lit the candle, hoping that the fire alarm was inactive today. As she moved the candle up and down the note, what was once blank was now forming yellow-brown words.

Meet me at the Hotel Adlon Kempinski Berlin at 6:00 pm. When you talk to the receptionist, tell them you are looking for Helen Otroi. Follow the receptionist, and do exactly as they say.

Oh, and take a deep breath when you go outside of this room. You may be overstimulated.

-P

Overstimulated? No, the girl is usually the one overstimulating other people. This will be nothing. Opening the door, she smiled confidently...until she stepped fully outside. The sudden rush of static and noise overwhelmed the girl. Out of the noise, she heard snippets of conversations.

...Why is she like this...

...Please stop crying, please stop crying...

...What a terrible view...

...Goddamn him!...

Somewhere in that cacophony, she picked out the flapping of a butterfly's wings, the sound of leaves rustling in the wind, a baby crying upstairs, and the Spree flowing through the heart of Berlin. She tried breathing as the note said. In, out, in, out. She needed focus, she thought. All of her failed bets with her friends, all of the places she has travelled to, the languages she's heard and spoken, her doppelganger...she took a deep breath. The sounds slinked away from her mind, and the girl sighed. She pulled out her phone, luckily stowed away in her jacket pocket, and searched where the hotel was.