Gaia's messenguer.

The voice in the dark.

Chapter five.

The voice in the dark.

-Cold beggar! I will have to find a place to spend the night, I would gladly sleep right here on this comfortable stone but I will do something better.

And when he saw that the stone couch was surrounded by several stones of various sizes and shapes, he prepared to arrange them as a shelter, forming walls, thus building a small fortress that would protect him from the cold of the early morning. The stone couch now fit perfectly. Wall and taking a piece of log that he found there, he wrapped it in his black T-shirt, arranging it as a pillow, and prepared to rest.

But since he knew that he was out in the open despite his small fortress, he would try not to sleep deeply and be alert to any event. He no longer felt the cold caress of the forest breeze and he felt so tired that he did not want to make a fire. He also considered that it was better not to be seen in that unexpected and unknown place, since he had the sensation of having crossed the border with the United States and was afraid of encountering the minute-men, who at the beginning of the 21st century were groups of unscrupulous hunters, who They dedicated themselves to shooting undocumented immigrants in the southern border area of the United States, so any contact with people from Texas was preferred during the day, when it would be easier to explain their presence in those lands, while he thought, smoked and dozed, he arranged his things. Inside the shelter, with the ax at hand and the knife at his waist also ready to be used, he closed his eyes trying to rest but without sleeping soundly, when suddenly he heard an angelic voice coming from somewhere in the forest telling him.

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In a quick movement he got on his knees, trying not to make noise or knock over his precarious shelter, he brandished the axe, looked out carefully and went out searching in the darkness for the author of that mysterious voice that seemed to come from everywhere, taking him out. Of a blow from his sleepy state.

-Who is it? Who’s there? -He asked out loud. -Some body is there?

He asked again in English thinking that some gringo or gringa was out there, he waited in silence for a few minutes without moving, without hearing any sound other than the music of the river, he crouched down between the stones looking around him, at the same time. After a while, fatigue began to sing in his ear to lull him and he lay down trying to remain alert, trying with all his might not to fall asleep, a useless effort, since he did not realice when he fell into Morpheus’s arms.