El náufrago

   El mar y venía con la mayor tranquilidad posible. El clima era perfecto: ni una nube en el cielo, el sol bien arriba y brillando con fuerza. La playa daba una gran curva, formando una pequeña ensenada en la que cangrejos excavaban para alimentarse y done, en ocasiones, iban a dar las medusas que se acercaban demasiado a la costa. La arena de la playa era muy fina y blanca como la nieve. No había piedras por ningún lado, al menos no en la línea costera.

 Del bosque de matorrales y palmeras en el centro de la isla, surgió un hombre. Caminaba despacio pero no era una persona mayor ni nada por el estilo. Arrastraba dos grandes hojas de palma. Las dejó una sobre otra cerca en la playa y luego volvió al bosque. Hizo esto mismo varias veces, hasta tener suficientes hojas en el montón- Cuando pareció que estaba contento con el número, empezó a mirar de un lado al otro de la playa, como buscando algo.

 El hombre no era muy alto y no debía tampoco llegar a los treinta años de edad. A pesar de eso, tenía una barba muy tupida, negra como la noche. La tenía en forma de candado, lo que hacía parecer que no tenía boca. Andaba por ahí completamente desnudo, ya bastante bronceado por el sol. El hombre era el único habitante de la isla y, era posible, que hubiese sido el único ser humano en estar allí de manera permanente.

 En la cercanía había varios bancos de arena pero ninguna otra isla igual de grande a esa. Era una región del mar muy peligrosa pues en varios puntos el lecho marino se elevaba de la nada y podía causar accidentes a os barcos que no estaban bien informados sobre la zona. Sin embargo, el tráfico de barcos era extremadamente bajo por esto mismo. La prueba era que, desde su naufragio, el hombre no había visto ningún barco, ni lejos ni cerca ni de ninguna manera.

 En cuanto a como había llegado allí, la verdad era que no lo recordaba con mucha claridad. En su cabeza tenía una gran cicatriz que iba de la sien a la base del pómulo, por el lado derecho de su cara. No era profunda ni impactante pero sí bastante notoria. Solo sabía que había sangrado mucho y que la única cura fue forzarse a entrar al agua salada del mar para que pudiese curarse.

 Eso había llevado su resistencia al dolor a nuevos limites que él ni conocía. Pero había sobrevivido y se supone que eso era lo importante. Al menos eso decían las personas que no habían vivido aquella experiencia. Vivirlo era otra cosas, sobre todo con lo relacionado con la comida y como mantenerse vivo sin tener que recurrir a medidas demasiado extremas.

 Al comienzo se enfermó un poco del estomago pero pronto tuvo que sacar valor de donde no tenía y empezó a ser mucho más creativo de lo que nunca había sido. Al final y al cabo, aunque no lo recordara, él era el contador de una empresa de cruceros. Tan solo era un hombre de números y nada más. Desde joven se había esforzado en sus estudios y por eso lo habían contratado. Lamentablemente, fue por culpa de ese trabajo que estuvo en el barco que tuvo el accidente y ahora estaba en la playa buscando palos largos.

 Cuando por fin encontró uno, volvió a la playa con las hojas de palmera. Primero clavó el palo en la tierra y se aseguró de que estuviera bien derecho y no temblara. Luego, empezó a poner las hojas alrededor del palo, tratando de formar algo así como una casita o tienda de campaña. Era un trabajo de cuidado porque las hojas se resbalaban. Cuando pasaba eso, apretaba las manos y pateaba la arena

 Llevaba allí por lo menos un mes. La verdad era que después de un tiempo se deja de tener una noción muy exacta del tiempo y de la ubicación. Abandonado en un isla pequeña, no tenía necesidad alguna de saber que hora era ni que día del año estaba viviendo. Ni siquiera pensaba sobre eso. Resultaba que eso era algo muy bueno pues su dedicación a sus tareas en la isla era más comprometida a causa de eso, menos restringida a diferentes eventuales hechos.

 No tenía manera de alertar a un barco si viniera. Tal vez podía agitar una de las ramas de las palmeras más grandes, pero eso no cambiaba el hecho de que pensaba que nadie vendría nunca por él. Ni siquiera sabía qué había pasado con su embarcación y con el resto de la gente. Por eso, día tras días, miraba menos el mar en busca de milagros y lo que hacía era crear soluciones para sus problemas inmediatos. Por eso lo de la casita con hojas de palma.

 Después de armar el refugio, salió a cazar. En su mano tenía una roca del interior de la isla y su misión era aplastar con ella a todos los cangrejos que viera por la playa. A veces esto probaba ser difícil porque los cangrejos podían ser mucho más rápidos de lo que uno pensaba. Además eran escurridizos, capaces de enterrarse en la arena en segundos, escapando de manera magistral.

 Sin embargo, él era mucho más inteligente que ellos y sabía como hacerles trampa para poder aplastarlos más efectivamente con la ropa. Los golpeaba varias veces hasta que se dejaban de mover, entonces los lavaba en el mar y luego los comía crudos. La opción de cocinarlos de alguna manera no era una posibilidad pues en la isla no había manera de crear fuego de la nada.

 El sabor del cangrejo crudo no era el mejor del mundo, lo mismo que no es muy delicioso comer un pescado así como viene. Pero el hambre es mucho más fuerte que nada y las costumbres en cuanto a la comida se van borrando con la necesidad. Su dieta se limitaba a la vida marina, en especial los peces que pudiese cazar en las zonas bajas o los cangrejos de la playa. No comía nunca más de lo que deseaba ni desperdiciaba nada. No se sabía cuando pudiese ser la siguiente comida.

 La peor parte de su estadía se dio cuando llegó la temporada de tormentas. Era obvio que su rudimentario refugio no iba a ser suficiente y por eso traté de diseñar un lugar en el cual esconderse en el centro de la isla, donde al menos tendía la protección del viento.  Cavo con su manos buscando más hojas y palos y plantas que le sirviera para atar unos con otros. Era un trabajo arduo.

 Lo malo fue que la primera tormenta se lo llevó todo con ella. Los truenos caían por todos lados, en especial la parte alta de las palmeras, haciendo que el lugar oliera a quemado. El olor despertó en el naufrago un recuerdo. Este era bastante claro y no era nada confuso ni complicado. Era de cuando se sentaba por largas horas al lado de su abuelo, pocos días antes de que muriera. A pesar del cáncer que lo carcomía, el viejo pidió un cigarro antes de morir y él se lo concedió. Incluso con eso, aguantó algunas semanas más hasta su muerte.

 El recuerdo no le servía de nada contra la naturaleza pero sí que le servía para recordar al menos una parte de quién era. Sabía ahora que había tenido un abuelo. Incluso mientras caían trombas de agua sobre la isla y él estaba acostado en su hueco en la mitad de la isla, tapándose con hojas, pensaba en todo lo que posiblemente no recordaba de su vida pasada. Tal vez tuviese una familia propia o hubiese logrado cosas extraordinarias o quién sabe que más.

 La tormenta se retiró al día siguiente. El naufrago recogió las hojas que la lluvia y el viento habían arrancado de los árboles.  Trató de mejorar sus condiciones de vida, tejiendo las hojas de las palmeras para hacer una estructurar para dormir más fuerte. Los días y los meses pasaron son que nadie más se acercara a ese lado del mundo.

 Un día pensó que venía alguien pues una gaviota, que jamás veía por el lugar, aterrizó en la playa y parecía buscar comida. Él solo vigiló al pájaro durante su estadía. Un buen día l ave se elevó en los aires, se dirigió al mar y allí cayó del cielo directo al agua. Algún animal se lo comió al instante. El naufrago supo entonces que la esperanza era algo difícil de tener.

Ravaged coastline

   As he climbed the staircase towards the top, the storm outside raged even stronger than before. The lighthouse’s walls seemed to shake at the sound of thunder. When he reached the top, he realized the machine that operated the lighthouse was still working despite of their best effort. Fast as he could, he grabbed something from his backpack and stuck it against the control panel that was lit with a variety of colors.

 Outside, the storm seemed to be getting worse every second. The waves were hitting the coast hard, as if nature was intentionally trying to bring the lighthouse down. But working with erosion would take too long so that’s why Miller volunteered to go to the top of the lighthouse and plant a bomb to destroy it from inside it. On the ocean, there was a sound louder than the one of the thunder: two ships seemed to be attacking positions in the ground and they did it all thanks to the help of the lighthouse.

 Once the bomb was planted, Miller ran out of the building, into the storm. From a certain distance, he saw how the lighthouse collapsed into itself. The sound of the explosion wasn’t really that strong because of all the scandal the storm was causing but what mattered was that the mission had been accomplished. Miller ran down the hill towards the beach, were the forces of his country were supposed to be. He didn’t find them there and he was afraid something bad had happened.

 Fortunately, he found their camp still set up where it had been that morning. Only a few tents remain though, because of the storm. The soldiers there said the attack from the ocean had been way too strong and that, even with the lighthouse out of their way, the enemy had known where to attack and how. So most of the army had moved south and, apparently, so did the battle.

 Miller had an obligation with his people, to defend his land until his death but he was very tired from running from one place to the other so he decided to have some rest with those wounded soldiers and wait for good news from all the battalions fighting the enemy. There was no food there, which was a shame, but one of the soldiers had a small flask with a very strong alcohol. Although forbidden, it helped Miller be aware until he fell asleep just before sunrise.

 He only slept a few hours. The storm had finally stopped or almost stopped as it was still raining after all.  He decided to grab one of the transports that hadn’t been destroyed and follow the army down the path. The vehicle had four wheels but seemed like one of those cars you use at the beach or somewhere where war is not an issue. It had no doors, no real protection but it had to be enough.

 As he travelled south, Miller was not very happy about what he saw. Because he saw nothing. There weren’t any bodies on the beach, or coming form the sea. He tried to get to high ground but there was nothing to see on the ocean. No big ship destroyed or trying to attack anyone or anything. The ocean was deprived of any life forms, at least on the surface. And the beaches were the same. Even tracks of other vehicles were difficult to find. Miller would only find the occasional boot print every so often.

 The first day following his army was a waste. Miller only stopped driving at night, when he stumbled upon a former fisherman’s village that had been abandoned by its inhabitants. The most likely scenario was that they had left the town because of the impending attacks of the enemy on the coast. Those people that had lived of the ocean for so long, now had to move to the far away from it, leaving everything they had known and loved behind. It must have been very hard for them.

 Miller left his vehicle next to a house that had clearly been attacked but was still standing after it all. He walked around as clouds in the night sky moved and revealed the full moon. The white light from it helped Miller look for anything he could use such as a small tank of gasoline and some bullets for his handgun. There were also nets and fishing rods but he left them there, as he wouldn’t have time to do anything with them.

 He slept inside the abandoned house that night. Nature or man had removed part of the roof, so the light of the moon illuminated his room. It was filled with sand and smelled a lot like fish. However, he slept in an actual bed that he tried to clean up the best he could. It was very strange to feel such a soft matters and the sheets really smelled like fabric softener, after such a long time of having been abandoned there.

The next day, he charged the gasoline tank of his vehicle and moved on with his search. It was until the afternoon, several kilometers from the fisherman’s village, where finally found the bodies of some soldiers. Unfortunately, they were not only dead but they seemed to have been scorched alive. Their bones were practically pieces of coal, forming strange angles by the ocean.

 It looks as if they were two soldiers or maybe they weren’t even soldiers. It was difficult to tell as the clothes had burned too. Something bad had happened there anyway and even if it didn’t have anything to do with the fighting, it was worth taking note. Maybe the people were going crazier than anyone had anticipated.

 A huge explosion was then heard just beyond some sand dunes. Miller left the vehicle behind and run up the dunes in order to see what had happened. A column of smoke could be seen easily as his feet sunk into the sand, trying to run as fast as he could in a place were running was not very practical. When he got to the tip of the dunes, he saw something horrible. It was the army, his army. They were all dead. Their bodies covered the stretch of sand between the beach and the tree line. There didn’t seem to be a single spot without a dead body.

 The smoke was coming out of some sort of gun near the center of the agglomeration of bodies. It was artillery and was pointed towards the ocean. Miller tried to look for anything there to indicate what had killed all of those men and women but there was nothing. The weapon had maybe overloaded and that’s why it had exploded. It meant that Miller had missed his peers for a very short time, maybe even only hours.

 It was awful to see all of those familiar faces rotting under the soft rain and the pale sunlight that filtered through the very thick clouds. He didn’t know what to do with them. Leaving them there would not be according to their code but burning each corpse would take him forever. And then, there was the gun. He decided to walk among the bodies, towards the weapon, in order to check if any information could be saved from its intelligent software.

 He tried not to step on any hands or legs but it was very difficult. He tried to look forward instead of downwards. For a moment, tears began pouring out of his eyes. It was just too much for him. After all, he was just a young guy that no many months ago had ben trying to turn his life around after been a thief for all of his life. He had tried to learn a trade and be good at it and then the war happened and now he was stepping on bodies.

 When he reached the artillery post, he sat on the chair of the gun and clicked some letters. The machine was still working. The shooting capabilities were out of order but he could check what they were firing at moments ago. An image appeared on the small screen and he had to get closer to see it fully. When his eyes focused, he thought he was looking at the worn image or maybe he had done something wrong.

 But the image was not the wrong one. Understanding the danger he was in, he ran stepping on every body towards the dunes and reaching his vehicle fast. He had to leave for the inland, where the inhabited cities were, in order to tell them what he had seen. They wouldn’t believe him but he had to tell them that a monster was out there. Maybe it was the enemies, or maybe not, but it seemed to have come straight from hell. As he drove, he checked his mirrors every few seconds, afraid of the ocean.

Tradiciones

   Sayuki se había quejado todo el tiempo sobre su vestido y los zapatos. También sobre el peinado tan apretado que parecía estirarle toda la cara y lo difícil que era sentarle en un vestido que era tan apretado y no cedía ante nada. Pero al verse en el espejo antes de salir, se dio cuenta que todo su esfuerzo había válido de la pena. Su familia la esperaba en el coche. Apenas pudo bajar, lo que le tomaba bastante tiempo con las sandalias tradicionales, emprendieron el camino hacia la ceremonia a la que estaban invitados.

 Demoraron una media hora en llegar. La boda se iba a realizar en un hermoso hotel en la montaña. El lugar era perfecto para cualquier tipo de ceremonia. Había sido la madre de Sayuki la que se lo había recomendado a su hermana, quién a su vez se lo había recomendado a su hija Tomoko, quién era la que se iba a casar. Todo el que entraba quedaba completamente enamorado del lugar.

 Se tenía que cruzar un puente de madera para llegar. La zona del parqueadero estaba del otro lado. El hermano de Sayuki la ayudó a bajar al suelo y desde allí pudo caminar por si misma. El asfalto era perfectamente plano, muy uniforme. No pudieron evitar pensar que se debía precisamente a que querían evitar cualquier tipo de accidente que la gente pudiese tener vistiendo ropas tradicionales. Después de  todo, el lugar era muy popular con bodas y eventos parecidos.

 Habían llegado temprano. Pasando la recepción estaba el alón de eventos donde se celebraría la fiesta después de la boda. Le habían dicho a Sayuki que para ella podía cambiarse a ropa común y corriente. Traía lo necesario en una pequeña maleta que su madre le había ayudado a empacar. Era bueno saber que no tenía que quedarse toda la noche con el mismo traje que no la dejaba moverse nada. Era una mujer joven y, por lo tanto, deseaba divertirse como cualquier otra.

 La ceremonia como tal iba a tener lugar en un pequeño templo alejado de la recepción. Se podía ver desde el lobby el techo del lugar con dragones adornando las entradas, cubierto de árboles y plantas por todas partes. El bosque que había detrás del hotel cubría el templo un poco y le daba una sensación bastante agradable al jardín trasero. Salieron a él momentos después, a contemplar la belleza de la naturaleza.

 La idea era ir al templo para sentarse de una vez pero Sayuki estaba demasiado absorta con el paisaje para fijarse en donde pisaba. Por eso dio un mal paso y cayó de rodillas sobre una piedra que hacía la vez de camino hacia el templo. Se puso de pie como pudo, pues no había nadie que la ayudase. Todos podían caminar más rápido y estaban instalándose en el templo.

 Un poco enojada por ser la única que debía vestirse así, tal vez con la excepción de la novia,  Sayuki decidió tomar una ruta alterna y demorarse un poco en su paseo por los jardines antes de ir a sentarse. Era hermoso pues la primavera había llegado hacía unas semanas y las flores de cerezo crecían por todas partes. Creaban casi como nubes de color rosa y blanco que, igual que las del cielo, parecían tener formas. Caminaba despacio entre los árboles, pensando también en las razones que la llevaban allí.

 Su prima no era alguien por la que sintiera un cariño especial. Su madre era muy cercana a su hermana y era más por eso que estaban allí, sonriendo a todos los viejos miembros de la familia que no veían en años y a cualquiera que los halagara por sus vestidos tradicionales. Pero la relación entre las dos chicas era casi nula. Su prima además era algo mayor así que no era como si tuviesen gustos exactamente iguales.

 Además estaba el hecho de que se estuviese casando. Era algo que Sayuki apenas había contemplado como una posibilidad en el futuro. Y aunque no eran de la misma edad, las dos eran consideradas por sus familias como “en edad de casarse”. Su madre, de hecho, a cada rato hacía bromas un poco agresivas sobre el hecho de que Sayuki jamás hubiese llevado un novio a la casa. También hacían bromas sobre su falta de interés en la cocina y en los cuidados de la casa.

 Sayuki estaba en el universidad estudiante para hacer dibujante profesional. Su meta era poder trabajar en el mundo del manga pero eso era un objetivo a largo plazo ya que sabía que no era una industria fácil a la cual entrar. Pero era lo que le gustaba y se la pasaba dibujando todo el tiempo. De hecho, había que detener un hermoso dibujo de los cerezos que veía por su ventana cuando su madre había venido a obligarla a poner el traje tradicional para la boda.

 No se había dado cuenta que se había alejado bastante del hotel y del templo. De hecho, el bosque se había vuelto más espeso a su alrededor y el camino se había vuelto de tierra compacta, sin piedras casi circulares formando un camino. Se devolvió sobre sus pasos pero parecía caminar en círculos pues no llegaba a ninguna parte.

 Después de un buen rato de caminar, se sentía tan cansada y frustrada que decidió recostarse contra una piedra. No había visto que la roca estaba cubierta de musgo: Sayuki resbaló al suelo y fue a dar tras unos arbustos que estaban al lado de la roca. Salió como pudo de entre las hojas, a gatas, y se odió a si misma al ver lo mucho que había arruinado su vestido: tenía más de tierra y pasto. Su madre la mataría.

 Cuando alzó la mirada para ponerse de pie, se dio cuenta del lugar donde estaba. Había caído junto a la orilla de un lago hermoso, limpio y casi se podría decir que brillante. Al lago caía una chorro de agua de entre unas rocas más elevadas. El sonido era tranquilizador, casi mágico. Sayuki se puso de pie y se acercó a la orilla, fascinada por el lugar. Parecía sacado de un cuento de hadas, de esos donde hay alguien que concede deseos a las almas perdidas.

 De pronto, el sonido de algo moviéndose en el agua llamó la atención de Sayuki. Al acercarlo lo más posible, se dio cuenta de que se trataba de una carpa enorme. Parecía ser el único animal en vivir en la laguna. Daba vueltas en círculos. Era mucho más activa que la mayoría de las carpas. Sayuki se quedó mirándola un buen rato hasta que recordó la boda y decidió darse la vuelta para encontrar el camino.

 No había caminado dos pasos cuando una voz gruesa llamó. Al instante se dio la vuelta pero no había nadie allí. Al alejarse de nuevo, la voz resonó de nuevo, diciéndole que se quedara  con ella. Sayuki miró a un lado y al otro, sin poder encontrar la fuente de la voz. Entonces la carpa asomó la cara por la superficie del agua y habló, sin mover la boca pero claramente mirando a Sayuki para que supiera quien hablaba.

 La joven quedó sin voz. Pensó que seguramente se había golpeado y estaba imaginándolo todo. No se pellizcó ni nada por estilo sino que decidió creer que de hecho estaba dormida. Saludó a la carpa como si fuera lo más normal del mundo, siguiendo el juego. El pez pareció sorprendido pero entonces habló de nuevo y le dijo a Sayuki que por ser la primera persona en visitar su laguna secreta en mucho tiempo, tendría la oportunidad de pedir un solo deseo.

 La chica casi ríe porque el sueño era tan obvio. Pero aún así decidió pensar en un deseo bueno por si la cosa se extendía más de la cuenta. Hubiera podido pedir algo ridículo como un traje nuevo de colores brillantes o muchas flores o algo tonto como un perro rosa o algo así, pero no creía que fuera lo suficientemente atrevido. Al final, decidió pedirle a la carpa que su familia dejara de insistir con lo de casarse y todo eso. Así de simple.

 De pronto se despertó y lo hizo sonriendo. A la boda llegó cuando estaban terminando y su madre la miró de manera reprobatoria. Lo bueno era que podía cambiarse ya para la recepción donde podría comer y bailar. Lo curioso fue que jamás nadie la comparó a su prima ni le preguntaron por un novio o potencial esposo. A otras sí pero a ella no. Sayuki sonreía sola y, en silencio, brindó por la carpa de la laguna secreta. Estaba agradecida.

Almost dead

    A bloody hand found its way inside the cave. Then another and suddenly the while body was easy to see against the weak light of the Moon outside. It was a man and he was barely standing up, visibly shaking, grabbing the rock walls of the cave with every single step he took.  He collapsed as his hand slipped from the wall and his whole body was unable to remain up. He hit the ground with a very loud noise but even that was not enough to be heard over the amount of water that was falling outside.

 The next morning, the man woke up exactly were he had passed out the day before. He first opened his eyes and didn’t move, partially incapable of doing that but also not wanting to risk causing more damage to his very sensitive body. But then he realized, as he moved his hands and fingers, that he was laying on a pool of dark blood. He stood himself up with the help of his hands and a while later he was sitting against the rock wall.

 The pool of blood was almost completely dried and it looked like something out of the ordinary. Especially because, when he touched his stained close, he didn’t feel anything in particular. He hope to know where the bullet holes where, as he remembered what had happened the day before but there was no trace of any of that in his body. He opened his shirt and touched his skin and realized there was nothing in particular happening there.

 The man took a deep breath and looked outside: it was not raining but the weather had not improved that much. It was still very gray and he knew that people would be looking out for him and he definitely didn’t want to be found. He decided to stay in the cave at least another hole day. Maybe that way he would be able to understand what was happening to him. Because he was sure he had been shot several times in the chest and in the back. And now he had no proof of that, no matter how vivid everything was in his mind.

 For water, he decided to crawl to the entrance and drink the droplets that fell from the sky. When the rain picked up, he was able to drink some more and also wash his clothes in the outside, without risking anyone seeing her. He took off his clothes and tried to wash them as well as he could. After that, he just sat inside the cave, his clothes on rocks drying.

 He began thinking about the people that had tried to kill them. They were very vicious and dangerous but not very smart. The cave was not that far from town and anyone would have been there first when it was public he had escaped his death under the hands of real criminals, much worse than he had ever be.

He had actually been a criminal. Nothing too lethal: only robbing stuff and, at most, dealing sometimes with drugs when the times needed it. He knew he wasn’t the cleanest person in the face of the Earth but the only time he had decided to stop his secret dealing, then that day he’s attacked by his enemies who try to kill him but weren’t able to do it.

 And there was that now. He had always noticed, from a younger age, that he never really had problems with scarring or health in general. He had never had the flu after he turned twelve and every time he cut his skin by accident, it cured rather fast. He always thought it was because he ate very well or something like that but apparently there was something really different going on around him. How was it possibly that he survived so many shots? They had him really close, it wasn’t like the bullets missing him by seconds or anything.

 The second day inside the cave, he actually found two of the bullets on the cave’s floor. He wasn’t sure if those too were the ones that had been inside his body but he really couldn’t find another explanation for it. On his skin, he had no scars or markings that showed that he had been the victim of such a brutal attack. He even considered the possibility that he might be going insane. But after thinking it through once and again, he reached to the conclusion that he was as sane as can be.

 By the third day there, he was very hungry. He hadn’t eaten anything decent for a while and he had to go out at night in order to wander around and check if there was something he could eat around there. He was fortunate enough to find a gas station with the corresponding market. The young man that worked there looked at the man in a very suspicious way: the short was still stained with blood and his hair and skin did not look particularly clean. 

 He wandered around the store, grabbing things and also asking himself how the hell he was going to pay for all of that. He decided to be a robber once again because he was hungry. He would have to knock the kid out and just leave as fast as he could. But first, he filled his basket with thing to eat and to drink. There were even freshly cooked hotdogs and he grabbed a couple to eat on the spot.

 The kid in charge did not ask what he wanted as a woman with a pantyhose in her head entered the market right then. She had a gun on her hand and demanded the young man to put every single bill and coin from the register into one of plastic bags he had for anything that people might buy. She did not see the man from the cave, which had been very focused serving all the toppings on one his hotdogs.

 He looked at her fast but had no idea who she was. As the kid opened the register, the man realized he couldn’t let that happen. Something in his mind was opposed to the idea that the place that he was about to rob was going to robbed first by someone else. Granted, he didn’t want any of the money and just all of the food, but it just seemed like that wasn’t something that should be allowed. He looked at her carefully again and, without thinking it through, he launched himself at her, knocking him down.

 She fell to the ground all right but was still holding the gun. She shot twice, the bullets whistling very near the young man’s head. The man tried to submit her but she wouldn’t let herself be dominated. She was very strong and just had a lot of energy that the man form the cave had not. He had barely recovered from all that had happened to him but he still could hold for a bit longer.

 It was then she released herself from his hands and pointed the gun at him. She was about to talk but he moved so she shot twice. The kid squealed behind the counter when he heard the sounds. He was shaking a lot and couldn’t believe this was only his second week on the job. However, he was more surprised when he heard more fighting sounds and moaning and then nothing more.  He was very nervous but everything had apparently ended that night. Thinking of calling the police, he stood up shaking a lot and looked over the counter.

 On the floor, the woman was unconscious, with a big red mark on her head. The man that had come to buy food was beside her, with a can of chili that had been resting in the aisle behind him. He was bleeding from the chest and the young man was about to grab the phone to call the police but then he saw something very difficult to believe: from the guy’s chest, two metallic bullets were coming out as if they were giant pimples. They fell to the ground and then the guy coughed.

 He opened his eyes and looked at the kid, who looked back. Then, shaking too, the man stood up and asked the kid if he could take some of the food for free as he had no money to pay. The young man, surprisingly enough, moved his head affirmatively. The man from the cave then grabbed the basket he had been filling with one hand and the hotdog that was still in the toppings counter with the other.

 Just as he was about to leave, the kid asked him who he was. The man stopped short at the door but didn’t turn around. His answer wasn’t instantaneous, as he needed to think it through before opening his mouth. However, he turned his head around and said “Mr. Dead, kid. That’s me”. Then, he left for his cave. The excitement was so much for the kid, that he fainted.