Читать книгу Crocodile Tears онлайн

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The noise advances slowly, still some way from the bunks, sticking close to the back wall; sometimes it stops and then starts again, as if pulling itself along. The sound moves effortlessly through the darkness, staying far from the sliver of light that enters beneath the door.

Diego, still unable to see anything, catches a new acidic odour, something that was not present during his hours of insomnia, a whiff of unknown perspiration, unwashed clothes, a smell that moves in time with the sound it produces, that skirts around him, that takes on strange resonances in the silence and the gloom.

Now he can feel the tension in the other bunks, restrained movements, muted breathing, fingernails scratching on metal. He can even hear the joints of the other men’s bones.

He remains immobile and alert, he tries to calm himself, he can’t allow himself to be carried away by desperation 43but he imagines bare feet, dark dirty fingernails, fierce eyes in which you can glimpse violence or stupidity or misfortune.