Apocalypse Z: The Beginning of the End by Manel Loureiro Read Free Book Online

bedroom that looks out on the main road. A patrol car stopped the Civil Guard at the entrance to our street. Two guards with assault rifles got out and ran past my house to the embankment at the end of my street. Beyond that embankment are some houses, and behind them, a highway. I couldn’t see where they were going.
    Pretty soon they came back. A platoon of soldiers coming from the opposite direction was with them. They were nervous, and one soldier’s sleeve was stained with blood or some other dark substance. They continued on in silence and disappeared down the other end of the street.
    I heard it again. I can’t swear to it, but I think I heard shots. And they sounded closer than before.

ENTRY 24
January 20, 11:22 a.m.
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    I went downtown to buy the newspaper or some magazines. There aren’t any newspapers. The delivery van couldn’t get through. On the way home, I noticed that most shops were closed. I found a small bakery open, so I bought some fresh bread. The worried-looking salesgirl whispered to me that last night she heard shots right next to her house, and something that sounded like “moans.” When she looked out the window, she saw an army truck pulling up at top speed.
    I saw skid marks at the entrance to my street yesterday. Now I know I wasn’t dreaming.

ENTRY 25
January 20, 11:33 a.m.
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    I’m sitting in the garden, soaking up the winter sun, while I watch Lucullus, who’s staring ecstatically at a lizard scurrying along the wall. The helicopter’s flying tirelessly overhead again. The radio news reported that the government has created “Safe Havens” in the major cities, where they plan to concentrate people. They say around 80 percent of city dwellers can’t (or won’t) leave. Safe Havens. That’s a fucking joke.
    At all hours of the day, they repeat that under no circumstances should you try to make contact with any person exhibiting erratic, odd, or disoriented behavior, or who shows signsof violence. Even if it’s an acquaintance or relative. Yeah, right...
everyone
knows how dangerous sick people are to healthy people.
    On top of all this, Channel 3 stopped broadcasting their regular programming. They’re running movies and prerecorded shows nonstop. Every forty-five minutes they broadcast a news update. News anchor Matías Prats looks like he’s been living on the set for days.

ENTRY 26
January 21, 12:20 p.m.
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    On Friday afternoon I dodged the checkpoints in town to visit Robert. We’ve been good friends since we were kids. Robert is quiet, low-key, and methodical. He works as an accountant for an import company. He got married two years ago and has a cute baby girl only a few months old. When I got to his house, his wife was packing their bags, and Robert was gloomily watching the television. He said they were going to the Safe Haven downtown. They don’t know where they’ll be staying or what they’ll do there, or anything, but they’re still going.
    I get it. I’m a single guy who lives with a cat, but he has a family to look after. Good luck, Robert. I think we’re all going to need it.
    After I got home, I stopped to talk to my neighbor for a minute. His house backs up to mine. Before all this started, he was building on a deck. The smell of glue was pretty strong. Bits of sawdust wafted over the wall separating our yards. Lucullus sat mesmerized for hours, watching the dust twist and turn in a light beam. A few days ago the carpenters didn’t show up. I’ve never had much contact with the guy, but I got up the nerve to ask him for a couple of those heavy wooden posts to brace the gate in my front wall. If looters show up, they’ll have to jump over aten-foot-high wall or break down a wrought iron gate, reinforced with two wooden posts driven into the ground.
    More than anything I need a project to keep my mind busy so I don’t think about what’s happening. Fuck.
    On the official channels, there’s almost no foreign news. People don’t seem to care,