Dark Days az-2
Page 24
She grew smaller and smaller on the horizon.
And finally disappeared.
54
SOMEWHERE TWO MILES OFF THE COAST OF SENEGAL
Twelve-year-old Marcel Mbalo and his fourteen-year-old cousin, Yayah, had gone out on their fishing boat very early that morning to catch the trade winds at dawn. Although their long, dug-out canoe had an old noisy outboard motor, his uncle had forbidden them to use it unless it was an emergency, since the village had almost no gas left. So Yayah and Marcel had to paddle hard every morning to get past the surf at the beach and then let out the sails to reach their fishing ground.
Marcel thought it was an exciting life. A year ago, the men of the village would never have allowed two children to fish alone in one of their beautiful boats, but now there was no alternative. Most of the men had been forced to serve in the army when the demons from hell had taken possession of the souls of the living. None of those men had returned, so there were hardly any working-age adults left in the village.
The few who remained kept watch night and day at the small bridge over the marshes, the only access to N’Gor peninsula, where the village was located. Marcel’s uncle said that being so isolated was a blessing from Allah, but Marcel and Yayah didn’t understand what the advantages were, living in such a remote place, hundreds of miles from the nearest town. There were about two hundred men, women, and children in their village. They lived off those fish and the crops they grew outside of town. No one went hungry, but they couldn’t afford any luxuries. At night, they all slept in the old school, which everyone thought was fun.
Yayah manned the tiller, while Marcel tightened the boat’s small triangular sail that propelled their canoe. His mind was wandering over the horizon when he spotted a white dot in the distance. That white dot turned out to be a sailboat approaching fast.
Marcel pointed out the sailboat to Yayah. Under those circumstances, an older, more cautious man would’ve sailed away from any stranger, but Marcel and Yayah were just teenagers with no sense of danger. Their curiosity got the better of them and they let their canoe drift toward the boat.
When they were about three hundred feet from the sailboat, Marcel unconsciously reached for his gri-gris, the amulet that hung around his neck to ward off demons. That boat scared him.
The vessel looked like it had been through a ferocious storm. The mast was broken in half and its cockpit was flooded with seawater. With no one to control it, the rudder rolled freely, driven by the wind. There wasn’t a soul onboard.
Marcel called out a few times, but no one came on deck. When Yayah brought the canoe alongside the sailboat, Marcel jumped aboard, clutching the machete he used to cut the heads off fish.
The little fisherman immediately wanted to turn and run away from that ruined, sinister boat, but his older cousin was watching. If he let on that he was afraid, he’d have to endure the taunts of the other children in the village. He took a deep breath and pushed open the cabin door.
The cabin looked deserted. A black assault rifle lay on the table next to a large knife. Marcel trod carefully across a carpet of broken glass. Spread out on one of the seats was a painting that caught his attention. It was a garden landscape with a statue and some white men talking in the foreground. Marcel thought the painting was ugly, so he tossed it onto the floor, where it floated face down in seawater.
After checking out every inch of the deserted cabin, he picked up the assault rifle and knife and started out. Satisfied with his haul, picturing Yayah’s face when he saw all that loot, he took one last look inside the abandoned boat.
In a corner, hanging from a hook attached to the ceiling was an old wetsuit, watching him, swaying to the rhythm of the waves.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
It is very hard to mention, in just a few lines, everyone who has been part of this adventure called Apocalypse Z. So many people helped make this possible.
First my wife and family, for their endless patience, love, and understanding in those moments when I ran aground on the reefs of bewilderment.
Of course, Juan Gómez-Jurado, my friend and fellow writer who opened doors, guided me through the rough parts, and illuminated paths that would have otherwise remained hidden to me. I know I can never repay my debt to him. He has been my Pritchenko (but without the mustache).
Of course, Emilia Lope, at Random House Mondadori, not only for her caring, patience, and understanding, but also for believing in this project and supporting it. Emilia: You’re fantastic and without you this would not have been possible.
And the hundreds of thousands of readers on the Internet who always conveyed their warm support and encouragement and who watched this story grow, step by step, from a blog to a short story published in an obscure Internet website into a series of books. Reader: You now have the second volume in your hands. This book, like the previous one, is as much yours as mine.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Photo © Pablo Manuel Otero, 2012
An international bestselling author, Manel Loureiro was born in Pontevedra, Spain, and studied law at Universidad de Santiago de Compostela. After graduation, he worked in television, both on-screen (appearing on Television de Galicia) and behind the scenes as a writer. Apocalypse Z: The Beginning of the End, his first novel, began as a popular blog before its publication, eventually becoming a best seller in several countries, including Spain, Italy, Brazil, and the United States. Called “the Spanish Stephen King” by La Voz de Galicia, Manel has written three novels in the Apocalypse Z series. He currently resides in Pontevedra, Spain, where, in addition to writing, he is still a practicing lawyer.
ABOUT THE TRANSLATOR
Pamela Carmell received a Translation Award from the National Endowment for the Arts to translate Oppiano Licario by José Lezama Lima. Her publications include Matilde Asensi’s The Last Cato (HarperCollins), Belkis Cuza Malé’s Woman on the Front Lines (sponsored by the Witter Bynner Foundation for Poetry), Antonio Larreta’s The Last Portrait of the Duchess of Alba (a Book-of-the-Month Club selection), and the short-story collection, Cuba on the Edge. Her translations of poetry by Nancy Morejón is forthcoming from Cubanabooks. She is also published widely in literary magazines and anthologies.
Copyright
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Text copyright © 2010 by Manel Loureiro
English translation copyright © 2013 by Pamela Carmell
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Apocalypse Z: Dark Days was first published in Spain by Dolmen as Los Días Oscuros. Translated from Spanish by Pamela Carmell. Published in English by AmazonCrossing in 2013.
Published by AmazonCrossing
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P.O. Box 400818
Las Vegas, NV 89140
ISBN-13: 9781477809310
ISBN-10: 1477809317
Library of Congress Control Number: 2013909115
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