Read Signs Preceding the End of the World for Free Online

saying it just the same.
    The driver jerked up his palms when he saw Makina take out the package from Mr. Aitch. You don’t give nothing to me. Didn’t you know that? He dropped her on a deserted street and said Here’s where they’ll tell you where to take it. Since there was nobody around she ambled through a supermarket and sniffed restaurants. When she returned, a flower store had opened; an old man was sitting at the entrance, resting one hand on a cane and bringing a piece of bread to his mouth with the other. Makina planted herself in front of him. They looked at each other. Again Makina made as if to take the packet out but the old man said Wait, go clean up first and then I’ll take you. With his cane he pointed to a little door at the back of the store. Makina went through it, washed her hands and face; the wound on her ribs was dry and when she rubbed the soap across it hardly even stung. When she versed from the bathroom the old man was standing up. Come with me, he said. See those men? Makina saw two guys in a black ride with silver rims. Cops, wondering who you are, he went on. We’re going to walk till they get sidetracked. They began walking. The car followed close behind, suddenly accelerated and disappeared, but soon returned to follow them at a distance.
    I’m taking you to the stadium, the old man said. If they stop trailing us, you hand it over there; meantime I’ll tell you about your kin.
    Makina was overcome by foreboding. Is he dead?
    No, no, alive and kicking like a mule, he’s fine; you’ll find him changed, but still, he got here ok. Like you, he brought a little something from Mr. Aitch and things got rough, but then he went off on his business.
    Do you know where?
    The old man said Help me walk. Makina took his arm and the old man smoothly slipped her a piece of paper with his other hand. Address’s right here.
    They kept walking. The black car slowed beside them, the occupants eyeballed for a few seconds and took off.
    Think it’s safe? Makina asked.
    Don’t know, but it’s got to be done.
    The stadium loomed before them. So, what do they use that for?
    They play, said the old man. Every week the anglos play a game to celebrate who they are. He stopped, raised his cane and fanned the air. One of them whacks it, then sets off like it was a trip around the world, to every one of the bases out there, you know the anglos have bases all over the world, right? Well the one who whacked it runs from one to the next while the others keep taking swings to distract their enemies, and if he doesn’t get caught he makes it home and his people welcome him with open arms and cheering.
    Do you like it?
    Tsk, me, I’m just passing through.
    How long you been here?
    Going on fifty years … Here we are.
    They were standing at one of the doors to the stadium. The old man gave a whistle, the door opened, the old man said Get it over with, and turned away.
    The darkest kid Makina had ever seen in her life pointed to a corridor. She walked down it toward the light. At the end she was instantly overcome by the sight of a vast expanse, two rival visions of beauty: the bottom an immense green diamond rippling in its own reflection; and above, embracing it, tens of thousands of folded black chairs, an obsidian mound barbed with flint, sharp and glimmering.
    She was standing there, dazzled, when from other tunnels around her more men emerged, ten or fifteen or thirty all at once, all black but some blacker than others, some sinewy as if they’d grown up in mountain air, others puffy like aquatic animals, many bald but a few with long matted hair down to their waists. All looking at her and walking toward her, calm and cool but with faces that clearly conveyed they were serious motherfuckers.
    Don’t let my associates scare you, she suddenly heard behind her, in latin tongue. They’re not such tough sonsofbitches, just had to learn to look like it.
    Down the corridor she’d walked, a man limped nearer,