Histórias em Quadrinhos • DS.art.br

Writter: A. Moraes • Artist: DS • English version: A. Moraes • Revision: Hector Lima

The best webcomic ever!

Next update? Friday – 01.30.2009

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I naturally thought of my home town on winter time.
But there I would certainly see a dog freezing passing by fast looking for shelter.
Very weird!
I returned to the truck and exchanged the 38+P Magnum bullets for the 357+expansive.
Hot slugs for any job.
I spent a long time listening to nothing and sipping a coke and nothing happened.
What a shit place!
A damned abandoned town!
When I was going to turn around, I felt an unexplained sleepiness.
I woke up less than three hours ago.
I closed my eyes for a moment…

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It was a paving of irregular stones jaded with the years.
The village had only one street and the houses were all dark.
In the small town centre the paving got better, now with big hexagonal stone blocks.
It looked like a museum city registered as a historic patrimony.
Shit.
It all looked like and it really was hundred years old.
I stopped the truck and looked around with a flashlight.
The houses seemed completely abandoned.
I left the car engine on and got out.
There wasn’t any sound, only mold smell.
Very weird.

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If I had thought to much I wouldn’t go.
I put gas on it. *****
The road was undulating even more as I was going up, it was getting straight and I was slowly regretting even more.
In a moment the road opened up and I could discern the top of the plateau which was a huge dark blemish in that light night.
About two kilometers away in the centre I saw the entire town in the shade.
It looked more like an old Spanish village.
A little bit further I drove into a paved street.
I was surprised.
I hadn’t driven on a paved street for more than a week.

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During the extermination war, the Brazilian and Argentinean troops were gathering people from different communities to kill them with more control.
All the men and young women.
I laughed in the dimness of the car, thinking about the indignant faces of the normal people when they talk about the Jews massacre on the Second War.
Few of them know that their great-grandparents did a lot worse.
According to the map, the city was located only thirty kilometers on a detour that should be shorter ahead.
I looked to that path about thirty times and I’m sure Muertos wasn’t there before.
Shit.
Twenty minutes later I arrived on the crossroads and a sign
didn’t let doubts.
Muertos 15 miles.
The road was ascending roughly.
I discerned in the dark the plateau that shouldn’t be there.

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I pulled over to get the map, bad idea at that time and place, because beasts of two and four paws could attack me.
I’ve checked the map made in Argentina many times and I knew the next city I would stop would be Encarnación.
I would have to drive around to run away from the militia, they would have a ball with me if they find the merchandise.
The ‘militia” belonged to the other side and a jahguar-hi filled with fake dollars would be of many utilities (target shooting, coke & chicas).
I felt that old danger sensation of negligence when I saw that black dot in the map I was absolutely certain I shouldn’t be there. ******
“Muertos” was the name of the village.
a common name in Paraguay.

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I shaved my beard with a bottle of sprint water.
… and left the room with my backpack.
There was seventeen hundred thousand dollars on it.
All fake bills for random payments.
I should deliver it in Concepcion, two hundred kilometers from the Brazilian border.
There was still five hundred kilometers to the destination.
After the delivery, being clean, I could come back by plane without worries.
I bought chips and some Diet Coke bottles. When I was already driving for one hour I thought of the cigarettes.
I forgot to get them.
Shit.
To find Benson & Hedges coffee drops at that end of the world place was a pain in the ass.