to take you there?’
‘Where?’
‘To the Little Lady. I’ll show you the way, if you like.’
The twin fell silent for a moment, scratching the scabs on his lips with his fingernail. He pointed to the storeroom door. ‘Let’s go back in there.’ They returned to the shop. ‘What am I going to do with Paolo?’
‘He’s dead. Leave him here.’
Mario picked up a cereal bar, took off the wrapper and scoffed it without offering her a bite. ‘The trouble is, I’ve never been anywhere without my brother. We used to like being in the shop. Swapping things with customers, collecting batteries, medicines . . . Since the fires, nobody’s come any more. Only gangs trying to raid the shop.’
‘We wouldn’t be gone long.’
‘How long?’
‘A couple of days.’
‘I don’t know . . . I suppose I could give you some chocolate so she’d let you kiss her too.’
Anna smiled. ‘Yes, but that’s not enough. If you want me to take you there, you’ll have to give me the medicines I need for my brother.’
He opened three drawers. ‘Take as many as you want.’
She immediately found two boxes of antibiotics and put them in the rucksack. ‘And you’ll have to give me all the food we can carry. I’ll choose it, though. And some live batteries.’
‘Okay.’
‘This is what I suggest: we drop by at my house to give my brother the medicines, then we leave tomorrow morning.’
Mario had perked up. ‘All right, I’m tired of being on my own. What’s your brother’s name?’
‘Astor.’
‘Funny name.’ Mario extended a plump hand. ‘It’s a deal.’ Anna’s plan was simple. At Torre Normanna she’d run off with the stuff, and to hell with Mario and the Little Lady.
*
They advanced along a country road which passed through a suburb consisting of a few houses, a small church and a roundabout, in the middle of which was a monument to servicemen killed in the First World War. Fire had consumed the public gardens around the local tourist office, and the trunks of the eucalyptuses looked like black pencils stuck in the earth. All that remained of the newsagent’s kiosk was its iron frame. The nose of a fire engine was rammed into the barber’s shop.
Anna was carrying a bag full of jars. Michelini, wearing a red cap with ‘Nutella’ on the peak, the shotgun slung over his shoulder, was pushing a wheelbarrow full of boxes. The load was covered by a piece of tarpaulin held down with bungee cords.
They were sweating and only found respite from the heat when the sun went behind the clouds.
Anna couldn’t make up her mind whether she liked Mario or not. He’d fallen silent soon after leaving the shop and started to slow down after a couple of kilometres. It might have been the effects of Red Fever, but she suspected he was just lazy. At this rate it’d be dark before they got home. ‘Do you want to switch jobs? Shall I push?’
Michelini shook his head.
‘Is the gun loaded?’
‘I’ve got four bullets.’ Bullets were hard to come by. He’d fired all the others in the early months of the epidemic, during the looting and riots.
They started down a narrow road flanked by dry stone walls.
The twin stopped for a breather. ‘It’s strange for me without Paolo.’ He looked at Anna. ‘Have you got any hairs yet?’
‘Yes.’
‘Show me.’
Anna undid her shorts and pulled them down to her knees.
Without taking his hands off the wheelbarrow, Michelini bent down to look at the little strip of black hair.
‘What about breasts?’
Anna pulled up her T-shirt. On her chest were two hillocks surmounted by pink nipples.
They set off again, moving away from the village. Anna was seething with impatience, but was forced to fall in with the snail’s pace of Michelini. To take her mind off it, she suggested they play a game.
He was dripping with sweat. ‘What game?’
‘Think of an animal.’
‘All right. A walrus.’
‘You’re not meant to say it; you just think of it and I ask you questions till I find out what it is. Got it?’
‘Yes.’
‘All right, then. Does it fly, walk or swim?’
Michelini gave a crafty smile. ‘It flies, walks and swims.’
‘What animal could that be?’
‘A duck.’
‘You’re not meant to tell me straight out.’
‘You asked what kind of animal it was.’
‘I was thinking out loud. Think of another one.’
‘All right. A rabbit.’
‘Maybe we’d better just walk.’
They passed a billboard on which there was an advert showing a car with a man dressed in jacket and tie, saying: ‘Choose your future today.’
*
Nine wraith-like figures were coming across a field of burnt olive trees. The two oldest ones were out in front: a fat male and a skinny female, both painted white. The others were about Astor’s age, naked and painted blue, their hair falling on their shoulders in tangled masses. Some of them had sticks.
Anna and Michelini watched them from behind a wooden fence. The twin scratched his chin. ‘What shall we do?’
‘Speak quietly,’ whispered Anna. ‘If they spot us they’ll steal everything we’ve got.’
Not far away, on the other side of the road, was a small block of flats with an underground garage over which was the sign: ‘Pieri’s Car Repair Workshop’.
Anna grasped the handles of the wheelbarrow and started moving forward, with her head down, hiding behind the fence. ‘Keep down and follow me without making a noise.’ But she’d only gone a few metres when a shot rang out behind her.
Michelini was standing in the middle of the road. A plume of white smoke was coming out of the barrel of the shotgun.
She gaped at him. ‘What have you done?’
‘That’ll
