She had lost track of how long they had been, but it did not matter, the problem was the scorching floor, and Zakarias refused to return his boots. His feet had more cracks than the ground on which he stepped, filled with burning balls, and still bear the pain of his broken bones. For some reason, Zakarias's feet were almost the same, she seemed impassive, as she was already accustomed to that pain. Something went through her mind, maybe when she was an undeveloped outherself, did she have her feet like that? Did not know, had no memory.
- What kind of face? Creating imaginary problem?
Imaginary problem. One of Zakarias's most frightening things was even not looking at his face; she knew the thinking words of a brain. Problem, yes, there were no memories stored in his head, this resulted in his situation. Imaginary...? Doubt.
- There are no complications of things that no longer exist. You better worry about your feet. Hahahahaheeeee.
Rock was very uncomfortable with that laugh. Laughing mad, rattlesnake, characteristic given by itself outherself with a coffin.
The surrounding landscape was different, no different from Outherworld standards, the feel was different. Rough ground and full of cracks, the temperature warmer than normal, to see until the dampness coming out and mingling with the landscape. The wind had a strange humidity as we walked, but it did not take away the heat, nor did it ease. Zakarias looked impassive.
In the distance, for the first time in that strange region, other outherself. Two, actually. Both of her thick leather sandals, one of only ragged formal clothes, the other a scarf that covered her head and bust with long skirt tied in knots of fabric, both with necklaces full of unfamiliar symbols. They carried a wooden sweep with a net of cloth tied at the ends of the staff. He looked heavy as he gazed from a distance, despite the fact that he had to spin and spin to bring his irritated companion. Zakarias made a strange gesture to that image, head, belly, left shoulder, right shoulder and kiss one of the crosses on his many necklaces. Rock did not understand such a gesture, and from afar he saw the reaction of the outherselfs ahead.
The one in the skirt shuddered and held the piece of wood firmly, her companion spoke and the situation asked the change of mood, but Zakarias entered the field of vision of those two.
- Good morning, brothers of souls.
- Good morning, brother to souls ... How is the walk in this damn land?- said the one in formal clothes, trying to search for courage in his words.
- Damn earth ..?! ... Undo the speech, undo the speech ...!- whispered the front, then was quiet.
- Well ... Empty path. Death dead or death ambush?
- Death dead and death ambush, Your Lordship Berdinazzi ... Shot and stab, brutal so to speak. Now have rest rest in our network. Oh! Being dead is loose, very loose ... -said the front, trying to remain calm.
It was a body they carried, a body was there inside that net.
- Do you want help?- Rock asked.
- Who's the thin leg?
- One who tried his turn, but it was not time. It is my company to the coast, hate to travel alone in this land full of emptiness .. Your shoulder should be good, in this network has medium weight.
She was middleweight, maybe she had the same weight as her. He took the place of the front, before the one that was there kept ahead with a good distance of Zakarias.
- Who's dead?
- At least it's unknown. I'd rather bury people with no knowledge of existence. No crying, no talking. No loss of time.- she heard from behind.
- Maybe "Black" like many majorities. Maybe, "Rock" or "Shooter" in the name. I do not remember, Your Sinhá Zakarias.
"All right, all right, remembering the dead brings them back to life. They'd better stay on the land where their place is. Can I have the pleasure of praying?
- Certainly, of course, Your Sake! His words have value equal to a writing. Your word is law. It's law. It's blessed law.
Rock swallowed dry with that conversation. They came to the old and poor cemetery, with no walls or bars, only two wooden planks to say that it is a tomb in my nothingness. Already there were holes dug, the known outherself known now, advancing service, was what they said. It was not like Strength, better "Yuu," throwing into a hole anyone's respect with disgust of bearing, a respect perhaps to those who went by his blade or from another. He unwrapped the net, and there it was. She looked like Rock, the girl who was eternally asleep. It seemed, not nearly identical, but she remembered. Another swallow dry.
She went to the nearest pit, closer ironically, was far away unoccupied.
- What happened? I remember this being one of the smallest in this region.
- Zakarias Berdinazzi, when he was out of these lands, the sound of his coffin still beats hard on our loved ones. Yellow fever, dengue, zika, chikungunya, malaria, among many others, only the most difficult name ... Several died, some die to this day. If you-
"I do not do a miracle, I do not do a miracle.
- Yes, Sinhá! Yes, Sinhá!
Both outherself took two old and rusty shovels, Rock just watched the situation, Zakarias started a prayer.
This cave in which you are, with measured spans, is the lowest quota you have ever taken.
It is of good size, neither broad nor deep, is the part that fits you of this latifundia. It's not a big pit, it's a pit, it's the land you wanted to see divided.
It is a great pit for your little dead, but you will be wider than you were in the world. It is a great pit for your meager dead, but more than in the world you will feel wide.
It is a great pit for your little flesh, but the earth given does not open its mouth. You will live, and forever, in the land here and now, and you will have at last your ...
Obviously the words continued the same way they heard as it was mended back, that husky, dry, bitter, dirty voice. She was a little annoyed by his words, though the two continued to dig in a disturbed way, not by her words, but by their presence on the spot.
After all, pray and burial, one of them took the wooden stick and the hammock, the search for another body should begin, the other took Rock's arm and said in her ear.
- Caution. Zakarias Berdinazzi. If it's people, it's death. If it's an animal, it's a vulture ...
And they left, maybe to get something for the pits.
Black Rock Shooter did not want to understand the warning, but understood. These outherself or others more in hypothesis knew the name, the question was the reason of the fear. She herself knew she was feared in the area she came from, but everyone treated her as equal or inferior, or just yelled at her, yes, Gold Saw, I'm talking about you. But this woman, it was only fear and devotion, she asked.
- I made a name in the past, child. Just like you got there. But my actions were more brutal than yours.
- As well?
- I made this world know something you never had. Hehehehe. Good times when I was young, I was and still the strongest here.
An inner instinct of Rock screamed for a fight! No, no, wait, do not mess up. A question crossed her mind, a silly question, simple, bland, tasteless. How long have you been in this world?
- My counterpart has been on record for 98 years ... But I think we're both 102 years old. The mother of my counterpart took time to do some documents there ...
Rock thought Gold Saw was old, 29 years is too much for an outherself. But, 102! His eyes widened with that number, she began to imagine. What would she look like when she got older? That would depend on Mato or an unfolding in her life in this world. She has almost died several times, the shortest part of her hair is a reminder of this, and now, her body almost healed, at this moment felt strange. She was here even to recover from her wounds. Lie! She was here to retrieve her belongings and repair them. Lie! You are a coward! Accepts, you're scared! Pride is over, you damn walking doom! Put your head down! What the fuck! Useless! Kid!
- Hey! Let's go. Soon the sun goes down. Come on, thin leg, come on, kid ...
So they left that spot and Black Rock Shooter walked with his head down, Zakarias did not like it.
Author's notes: My computer said so, I will stop working, okay? ... Understood ;-;...The prayer made is an excerpt from Morte e Vida severina written by João Cabral de Melo Neto.