Read Online Darkness for the Bastards of Pizzofalcone by Maurizio de Giovanni, Antony Shugaar - Free Book Online Page B

sight.
    Aragona asked Ottavia to run the footage back and freeze on the frame in which the two of them were closest to the security camera.
    â€œCan you zoom in on the boy’s hand?”
    Ottavia made a face: “Sure, but the picture is already very low-resolution. You won’t see a thing, just a series of black and white dots.”
    She tried anyway. Dodo had something in his hand.
    â€œWhat is that?” asked Aragona.
    No one said a word. At last, Alex murmured: “An action figure. It’s a plastic action figure.”

XII
    N
ighttime. Now it’s nighttime.
    Dodo can tell from the chink in the wall.
    One of the walls in the place where they’ve locked him up is made of sheet metal, that wall he knocked his fist against; the noise scares him, so he stays away. But there’s a gap, and a little light ought to filter in through it. But there’s no light now. So it’s nighttime.
    Dodo doesn’t really understand what’s happening to him. He knows that someone took him, and he knows that he’d better keep quiet and not try to run away or call for help, because that man is horrible and enormous, with that big mustache and long hair.
    Dodo remembers a movie he used to watch when he was little, a version of
Pinocchio
in which Stromboli was played by an actor who looked exactly like the man. Dodo was both afraid of and at the same time fascinated by him: He’d play the DVD over and over so he could see him defeated again and again. This time, who knew how it would end.
    Lena had come to get him. Dodo loved Lena, he’d been sorry not to see her anymore. When he’d recognized her, waving to him from far away, he’d gone over: What else should he have done? She was smiling at him, she was so nice. Then they’d left the museum grounds and when they got to the car, Stromboli was there. Lena had signaled to Dodo with her eyes, as if to say: Be careful, let’s not make him angry. And he spoke that strange language, in a deep, harsh voice.
    The two of them had gotten into the car and sat in the back, side by side, him and Lena. Who could say, maybe Stromboli had taken Lena too. And if Lena’s afraid, big and strong as she is, then it really would be best to be good, extra special good.
    He’d brought him something to eat.
    Hot pockets. But cold.
    Dodo likes hot pockets; but he doesn’t like them cold. He ate one and a half. Now his stomach hurts, he doesn’t much feel like eating anymore. Plus now it’s nighttime. Too bad, too, because with the passing hours his eyes had grown accustomed, and it hadn’t seemed quite so dark.
    The sheet metal wall scares him, but the wall that scares him most is the one with the door that Stromboli came through when he brought the water and the cold hot pockets. God, how big he is. He practically didn’t fit through the door. He narrowed his eyes in the darkness, he looked around. He shouted: You where?
    Dodo, curled up in the far corner, said: Here.
    Then Stromboli laid the plate and the water bottle down on the ground and locked the door back up behind him.
    Batman, Dodo murmured to the action figure. Batman, don’t be afraid. It’s just a matter of time. And after all, if he wanted to hurt us, the last thing he’d do is feed us, right? We just need to wait here, be calm and stay quiet.
    Let’s make believe that it’s dark because we’re in the Batcave. Let’s make believe that we’re the masters of the night, that darkness is our home and we’re not afraid. Let’s make believe that we’re close, tight together, and that we’re waiting for day to dawn.
    Let’s make believe that with our brain waves we can send a signal to my papà and that he’ll come right away to get us, and he’ll defeat Stromboli in a terrible battle, bare-handed. Or, even better, that Papà shows up with policemen who have guns, because Stromboli is strong, so