As yet untitled

Below is the first draft of the start of Ecks' second book, as yet still tantalisingly untitled. For those who care, The Servants Of Gods still sits on a shelf gathering dust, as Ecks is too sick of the sight of it to bring himself to make the revisions that need to be made before it is in a fit state to be submitted to agents and publishers again. It will happen; just not yet...

Yesterday I tricked the Devil. It was an amazing story, one that should be handed down from generation to generation and told to children by their mothers, but the story of how I came to be where I am today is in my opinion more amazing, so I think I will tell that instead. To begin with, at least. For now let me leave it that the Devil is very handsome, but not as tall as the legends make out.

But where am I? Where is this place, the journey towards which has been so eventful that it should obscure a story about the Devil himself? It is a good question, and one to which I admit I do not know the answer myself, because I am in fact lost. My name is Moses Temple Rodriguez, I am 33 years old and I am lost.

I have been lost in the desert for twelve days, ever since I was forced to flee Sucre in fear for my life with my friends Mirceles and Kinderman. I am trying to find my way to the village where my brother lives, because if I can find him he’ll help me. When I reach the village I will be safe, because it’s deep in the south, on the other side of the desert, where the rebels are at their strongest. No-one who works for the government would dare set foot down there. I am not safe here. I am not safe anywhere unless I keep moving. If I don’t keep moving they will catch me. It’s quite simple.

I have no idea why they are after me. I can only guess that perhaps it has something to do with my politics, as everything in this algae-stained sinkhole of a country always leads back to politics eventually, if one unravels the threads far enough, although all of this is mere speculation and none of it makes any difference to my current situation. The fact is that if I don’t keep one step ahead of the troop of unshaven thugs that the President has sent out after me, I’ll find myself with my ribs on the wrong side of my chest with the buzzards picking them clean.

Just now as I woke I saw a cloud-white plume of dust rising up in the distance like cigar smoke. They are gaining on us. We must push on.