3.
Cerillita called him. And I was sad. His sister, Mari Paz, had just died of a fever after four months of agony. It was his favorite sister ... and he was just five years. It was unfair that the good Lord will take her. And yet it was less fair that Ms. Pilar, her mother, rather than face God and throw rosaries and crucifixes in the house, locked himself in his faith by asking the Almighty to justify the unjustifiable.
Cerillita That's why I was sad. She saw her mother kneeling up the hillside of a Via Crucis Chamorro senseless waiting
Cerillita But he had been educated in the fear of God and soon forgot his childhood anger and realized that His designs should have some meaning within His Divine Plan. And in this Plan his sister Mari Paz certainly played a major role and pressing (perhaps an archangel, one of confidence for the Creator) and the contest was necessary to save thousands of souls before the Day of Judgement. So it could be that small was now busy at work than helping the Eternal Father with his immaculate innocence. Perhaps also the unlikely event that Judgement Day was not so far and pubertal children were required to drive many souls to the other side.
-Mari Paz ... Cerillita the wind whispered.
was ten years, as his nickname implies, was thin as the first match of a matchbox. In addition, had protruding ears, shifty eyes and not look too clever. However, his physique hid a sharp and insightful mind, a mind that only awaited the opportune moment to show his true height.
-Mari Paz. My poor sister! He repeated, about to get carried away by weeping.
not say at what time was left behind. The skirts of his mother, after which he ascended to that time, were lost in the shadows of the devotees in groups of four or five, climbed the mountain. Mrs. Pilar saw much higher, about to reach the top, and kicked a stone. Absorbed, he was watching the rock rushed to the gap between tumbling and compliments, dragging other, earth and stones, throwing up a smokescreen and fugitive dust.
was when he saw Charles, a little further down, hands in his pockets. He walked leisurely through the crowd, whistling a tune in couplets, those who invented the two in class, in the Sacred Heart School, where they were supposed to be doing homework.
- Carlos!
waved a hand, stood on tiptoe. He waved both arms. His friend finally honored him and waved back, throwing off down the slope to meet the Cerillita. Behind him was his brother James, a year younger, tall, lanky, taciturn. Although age, Cerillita should have felt closer to James, the truth is that it was not. James was a strange child. I can not say why he thought that. But what I thought.
-Paco ... Carlos said at last, panting.
Because Charles was the only one who did not call him Cerillita. And that Paco, the Cerillita, I appreciated more than anything else, as even his own brothers made use of that nickname that revealed their extreme thinness. Paco hated that nickname.
"Hi. How is everything?
Carlos shrugged, as glossing over what he would say. He was twelve years old and a boy a little plump, almost the antithesis of friend. James, behind him, nodded his head toward the Cerillita.
"No one wanted him to see the Virgin
The three children looked at the top, where the shrine of Chamorro distinguished already beset by the figures of a hundred parishioners who stood tirelessly to meet the Lady
"Thank you, Carlos.
was his best friend. Iban with his slingshot from one end to another of Ferrol, sometimes closer, the estuary, also accompanied by their fishing rods, others for adventure, climbing the hills of Darling and Brion to the east or farther Bara this. It was not much, had taken the road towards Covas and were deflected by one of those old roads leading to Castro Vilasanche. And there had become old Iberians and Celts or Romans, fighting among themselves and against imaginary enemies, climbing up the pieces of wall that were still standing, holding terrible battles, decisive for the future of his people, whatever it was at all times.
"A bad day to die," muttered the dark.
man had emerged from nowhere. He wore a military uniform and smoking a cigarette stinking, smelly. Backed down, and among the Humar came a tanned face, grim, however trying to smile and appear friendly. But it is difficult for a being with a black hole instead of heart, fool a child.
"Hello, boys, I am the Lord ... He seemed to doubt" Well, I guess you can call me boccor .
Carlos and Paco instinctively stepped back. James stared at the stranger without leave shine though his gesture of fear or surprise. For his part, smiled boccor casting a new cloud of smoke.
"I came to show you a thing. One thing you can not forget, tomorrow it will be very useful.
The man spoke only one of them, but his eyes hidden in the smoke of snuff, they were not sure who was watching.
"I've made a pact with dark forces, forces that go beyond today, with your child's mind, you can imagine. "Matias sucked deeply on his cigarette tip, know why one day the fate of our country is in your hands, my child. I have revealed Luases . But anyway you know. Just note that when that day comes, I want you to remember the only power strong enough to kill our enemies.
The boccor threw back his hood with a theatrical gesture, pointing behind them at the foot of the mountain.
- I mean the power of the Zombie! "He concluded, snapping his fingers and muttering some words in a foreign language.
Then they heard a howl. And then they saw a man covered with blood, lumbering among devotees of the Virgin, ignoring some and demolishing others with animal rage, excessive. Even from that distance, they understood that, if indeed it were a beast, the fallen lunged, biting, ripping, mutilating their victims from guttural growls.
- Holy God! James said, slowly descending toward the carnage, as if hypnotized "But that's not Mario, the doorman of the Hotel Suizo?
James was born with that strange determination that some associate with others with courage and stupidity. Bold, fearless, always the first to try anything crazy and break your neck first. He spoke little. Not needed. He was born to be a man of action.
- Will not you follow your friend? "Said the witch, looking towards the Cerillita and Carlos.
not answered. Mesmerized, watched the carnage that was staged under his feet.
Matías Gutiérrez Castle Mount Chamorro left puffing his cigarette still Russian, clad in a thick canopy of the army, walking with martial step forward that was beginning to build. With his head held high, eyes absent, lost in his dreams, he walked and got lost along the road.
"Today was a perfect day. Everything went exactly as planned, "he boasted. And he lit a cigar to celebrate.
Finally, when I could not hear the screams of people, thought he had sacrificed enough for you, the child who had come to impress, never forget that day. Focus again. Murmured a prayer for the zombie run to meet him.
They still had much work to be done.
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