Four layer cement cake

Without hesitation, Quill and Percy gave chase. The grey figure knocked into a box of soap, and a small slip of white paper fell to the floor.

“Got it,” Percy said, diving down and scooping up the note.

The figure slammed into the back door of the drugstore, giving off a grunt. Two more slips of paper drifted to the ground. The door swung wide.

Quill grabbed one of the notes. Percy snagged the other.

The door opened onto an empty public park. Most of the benches and chairs sat empty in the crisp night air except for a few which had become bees for poor souls with nowhere else to sleep. The park was a series of four cement circles that rose up like a wedding cake, each one slightly smaller than the last. Each layer of the park had half a dozen statues of famous citizens whose names were now lost to history but whose heads were covered in pigeons.

The figure hopped up to the first layer and another scrap floated to the ground. Quill swerved to grab it.

“He may be dropping those to slow us down,” Percy said.

At the sound of Percy’s voice, all the pigeons from the first layer flew up into the air circled wildly.