Part 1: “The only way to fall is down…”
– Go away.
The young woman brushed away a bangle of hair from her face with her hand, and crouched cautiously on the abandoned rooftop. She placed the sniper rifle against the edge of the building, aiming it in front of her. The sky was dark, but the clouds had a vermilion shine, as a result of the radioactive contamination on the area. This had been once a huge city brimming over with people, coming and going, like ants. Saya remembered those days. She sighed, and filled her dead lungs with the dusty wind. She could hear them, even though it was a pitch black night.
– Go away!
Saya flinched for a moment, surprised for how loud she had heard the voice this time. She shook her head, and stood like that for a minute. Waiting, listening. The wind carried the voices from the damned. She could hear them. Sometimes she heard them even though they weren’t there. Their tragic moaning, always hungry, always insatiable.
She leaned, watching through the aim this time. Now Saya could see her. She was so beautiful. She was wearing denim pants and a silky white shirt. She looked like a wraith, so haunting and bright. And then she saw them. They were all around her. But she didn’t seem worried at all. When she noticed them, they were swarming her. Saya put her finger around the trigger, and when she started to pull…
– Saya, listen to me: GO AWAY.
Saya dropped the rifle, and stood.
– What the fuck do you want now? I’m busy, can’t you see?
– Go away, Saya.
– Go away? Go where? There’s nothing left! Everything around here is a shithole!
– Go Home, Saya.
Then she heard the gunshots. She counted them in her head. One, two, Saya crouched again, three, four, she held the rifle against the building’s edge, five, six, she looked through the aim. The white girl had run out of shells. She focused a target, it was biting her forearm. Saya cursed and fired. She fired a couple shots more, cleared more targets. She bit her lip, ashamed, she got distracted and She almost had been a goner. But it was her fault after all. All she had to do was pick up some groceries, not go and lean over rooftops, and tempt the fuckers.
– Go where? – she was screaming now – There’s no Home!!
Her voice was carried away on the wind like the moaning from the undead.
Esto es parte de un proyecto de un texto de ficción que pudo haber culminado en un libro, o eso era la intención original. Lo estábamos escribiendo conjuntamente entre dos personas…
Desafortunadamente no pude encontrar la introducción, que creo sigue en un borrador en alguna hoja de bloc entre mis apuntes de la Carrera.
Subiré otra parte, en español, por los que se les complique :P