de Rodica Bretin<\/p>\n
\u00a0<\/strong>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 T\u0103cere. <\/em>Afar\u0103, nimic nu p\u0103rea s\u0103 tulbure tihna miezului de noapte. \u015ei totu\u015fi, ceva se schimbase: lini\u015ftea devenise ostil\u0103, amenin\u0163\u0103toare. Doi pa\u015fi p\u00e2n\u0103 la fereastr\u0103, o privire strecurat\u0103 dup\u0103 faldurile draperiei. Ma\u015fina poli\u0163iei r\u0103m\u0103sese acolo, \u00een strad\u0103, \u00eens\u0103 oamenii locotenentului Eric Norton avea capetele l\u0103sate pe sp\u0103tare, ca \u015fi cum ar fi dormit.<\/p>\n Dar erau mor\u0163i.<\/p>\n Atunci, i-am sim\u0163it pe ceilal\u0163i<\/em>. \u00cen mi\u015fcare, gr\u0103bi\u0163i, agili \u2013 \u015fi bine coordona\u0163i. Unii \u00een holul de la intrare, al\u0163ii \u00een lift, al treilea grup pe scara de incendiu. \u00cens\u0103 nu erau pompieri, nici garda na\u0163ional\u0103 \u00eentr-un exerci\u0163iu de evacuare a cl\u0103dirii.<\/p>\n Veneau dup\u0103 mine.<\/p>\n Dincolo, Eric dormea \u00een fotoliu, cu pistolul pe genunchi, surd la toate. Am dat s\u0103-l trezesc, dar c\u00e2nd i-am atins um\u0103rul m-a scuturat un curent electric. \u015ei groaza, deruta, m-au paralizat.<\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0Crezi c\u0103 po\u0163i hot\u0103r\u00ee cine tr\u0103ie\u015fte \u015fi cine nu? <\/em>am auzit un glas \u00een\u0103untrul min\u0163ii.<\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/em>De fapt, puteam.<\/p>\n C\u00e2nd au n\u0103v\u0103lit b\u0103rba\u0163ii \u00een negru, c\u0103lc\u00e2nd peste u\u015fa d\u0103r\u00e2mat\u0103 cu lovituri de cizm\u0103, eram preg\u0103tit\u0103. Ei aveau cagule, vizoare de noapte, arme cu laser ce \u0163eseau un p\u0103ienjeni\u015f de raze ro\u015fii. \u015ei eu aveam ceva de partea mea: timpul<\/em>.<\/p>\n L-am \u00eempins pe Eric din calea gloan\u0163elor \u015fi, \u00eempreun\u0103, am c\u0103zut, ne-am rostogolit sub plasa de lumin\u0103. \u00centr-o clip\u0103 am fost din nou \u00een picioare, tr\u0103g\u00e2nd de locotenent s\u0103 se ridice, s\u0103 m\u0103 urmeze. \u00cens\u0103 nu voia, era greu, at\u00e2t de greu… \u2013 \u015fi, c\u00e2nd m-am aplecat am v\u0103zut vitrina spart\u0103, ciobul care \u00eei retezase carotida.<\/p>\n Strig\u0103tul meu a \u00eencremenit totul, schijele de lemn \u015fi tencuial\u0103, bondarii din o\u0163el \u00eempotmoli\u0163i \u00een plasa p\u0103ianjenului de lumin\u0103, un b\u0103rbat cu un picior \u00een aer, \u00eentr-o echilibristic\u0103 precar\u0103, altul \u00eemping\u00e2nd cu um\u0103rul v\u0103zduhul, al treilea…<\/p>\n S\u0103-i \u0163in a\u015fa o clip\u0103, zece, o ve\u015fnicie?<\/p>\n Pe fereastra de la buc\u0103t\u0103rie, prin balcon veneau al\u0163ii, paturi de arm\u0103 aveau s\u0103 fac\u0103 \u0163\u0103nd\u0103ri geamul sufrageriei, dup\u0103 care… Nu puteam trece de ei; n-aveam cum s\u0103 fugim, unde s\u0103 ne ascundem. Orice a\u015f fi f\u0103cut, viziunile sf\u00e2r\u015feau la fel, cu Eric mort, cu mine t\u00e2r\u00e2t\u0103, tras\u0103, \u00eempins\u0103 spre duba ce a\u015ftepta \u00een strad\u0103, cu motorul pornit.<\/p>\n N-ai cum negocia cu destinul, nu po\u0163i mitui soarta.<\/p>\n Uneori \u00eens\u0103, nici nu trebuie.<\/p>\n Pistolul Beretta era \u00een buzunarul hanoracului, unde \u00eel l\u0103sasem. L-am luat, l-am armat atent\u0103. Apoi m-am \u00eentors la Eric, ocolind statuile \u00eenghe\u0163ate \u00een pozi\u0163ii imposibile, ca \u00eentr-un muzeu suprarealist al figurilor de cear\u0103. L-am \u00eencle\u015ftat de bra\u0163, scutur\u00e2ndu-l.<\/p>\n \u2013 Por\u0163i vesta? l-am \u00eentrebat scurt.<\/p>\n \u00cencuviin\u0163a, nedezmeticit pe de-antregul, c\u00e2nd am l\u0103sat din m\u00e2ini firele Timpului.<\/p>\n \u015ei toate s-au petrecut deodat\u0103.<\/p>\n B\u0103rba\u0163ii \u00een negru \u015fi-au ie\u015fit din iner\u0163ie doar pentru a \u00eencremeni din nou, perplec\u015fi, uit\u00e2ndu-se cum gloan\u0163ele se \u00eenfig \u00een pieptul locotenentului. Le vedeam pupilele dilatate, albul ochilor umpl\u00e2nd g\u0103urile de la cagule, \u00eens\u0103 pe chipul lui Eric nu era uimire, ci altceva \u2013 \u00een\u0163elegere, disperare, neputin\u0163\u0103?<\/p>\n L-am v\u0103zut c\u0103z\u00e2nd, apoi b\u0103rba\u0163ii au fost asupr\u0103-mi, unul mi-a smuls arma, altul mi-a r\u0103sucit bra\u0163ele, brutal, de parc\u0103 voia s\u0103 mi le smulg\u0103 din umeri.<\/p>\n Al treilea s-a apropiat pe la spate; i-am sim\u0163it r\u0103suflarea \u00een ceaf\u0103 \u015fi m-am \u00eenfiorat \u2013 asta<\/em> era ceva nou… \u00cens\u0103 abia c\u00e2nd acul seringii mi s-a ad\u00e2ncit \u00een carne, am \u00eenceput s\u0103 m\u0103 zbat;\u00a0 prea t\u00e2rziu, inutil.<\/p>\n \u015ei am \u015ftiut c\u0103 pierdusem.<\/p>\n \n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" de Rodica Bretin \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 T\u0103cere. Afar\u0103, nimic nu p\u0103rea s\u0103 tulbure tihna miezului de noapte. \u015ei totu\u015fi, ceva se schimbase: lini\u015ftea devenise ostil\u0103, amenin\u0163\u0103toare. Doi pa\u015fi p\u00e2n\u0103 la fereastr\u0103, o privire strecurat\u0103 dup\u0103 faldurile draperiei. Ma\u015fina poli\u0163iei r\u0103m\u0103sese acolo, \u00een strad\u0103, \u00eens\u0103 oamenii locotenentului Eric Norton avea capetele l\u0103sate pe sp\u0103tare, ca \u015fi cum ar […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[1644,15],"tags":[1645,1115,1219],"class_list":["post-14716","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-egophobia-76","category-proza","tag-egophobia-76","tag-proza","tag-rodica-bretin"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p6DakB-3Pm","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14716","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=14716"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14716\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":14717,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14716\/revisions\/14717"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=14716"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=14716"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=14716"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}