Paulo took a deep draw on his cigarette as he stared out over the blue horizon. Standing at the edge of the long, wooden pier, he listened to the gentle rush of the waves, along with the thunking of many small rowboats. Every sea-worthy vessel was tied.
He heard the familiar footfalls of Marcus coming up behind him, followed by the pattering of smaller feet. Paulo took a final puff of his cigarette, then tossed it out into the water. The butt hissed briefly, before a fish swam up and sucked it into its mouth. Paulo watched it go, wondering if the thing would swallow and choke on it, or if it would have the sense to spit it out.
"It's a no go," said Marcus, in smooth Portuguese. "Senegal has sealed its boarders, and that means The Gambia is cut off as well. They've got a marine blockade up, just past the horizon. Everyone's fenced in; anyone caught more than two miles out to sea will be detained and forced to shore, on threat of death. Going to be hell on the fishermen."
Paulo mulled this over, then turned to his friend. Both men were swarthy, dressed in white slacks and shirts, sunglasses and straw hats with wide brims to help fend off the sun. Both also wore backpacks, holding all their belongings. With the way things were going, pickpockets and swindlers were being particularly bold in their efforts. Both men didn't dare leave their packs unattended.
"No planes?" said Paulo.
"Everyone's grounded," he said. "Assuming we could even make it to an airport, the military still has them all locked down." He sighed.
Paulo turned his attention to his friend's companion. A young woman, very dark skinned, with long dreadlocked hair, wearing a loose green top and olive shorts. He cocked an eyebrow at her.
"This the whore you got last night?" he said. "You miss your wife so much, you had to pretend to be with her again this morning?"
"Actually," said Marcus. "She might, emphasis might, be our ride."
Paulo appraised her and gave a dismissive snort. She was a skinny thing, and looked like she couldn't be over twenty, half either man's age. "Is she some kind of amazing prodigy boat captain that can slip past military ships? A submarine thief, perhaps? Or is she some pirate captain's daughter?"
"This isn't Somalia," said Marcus, rolling his eyes.
"Somalia isn't the only place with pirates," said Paulo. "So what's her deal?"
The girl obviously didn't know Portuguese, as she looked between the men with a calm, but clearly uncomprehending expression. What language was the native tongue? Mandingo? Fula? He didn't know either.
Marcus nudged her on the arm and spoke to her in English, "Tell him what you told me."
The young woman cleared her throat, a little nervous. She replied in English as well, more fluent than Paulo expected, but still thickly accented. "The blockade will not work. It is a folly. They cannot stop the spread of the Magic."
Paulo blinked, but otherwise kept his expression calm. "The Magic," he said. He'd heard the stories. He hadn't really believed them. A strange power that only women had, giving them the ability to jerk a man off just by thinking it? That wasn't magic. That was some weird nerd's anime porno fantasy.
"Yes," she continued. "I know, because I have it."
Paulo cocked an eyebrow at her. He glanced at Marcus, who grinned. "She does," he said in Portuguese. "She absolutely does. Last night, she did this thing, she floated me in the air, and made me feel like I was getting sucked off by two hot honeys. She didn't even touch me, and I shot off like a fucking—"
"You probably drank yourself stupid, she gave you a sloppy suck, and probably pinched your wallet," said Paulo, scowling.
Marcus pulled his wallet out of his pocket. "Nah, she didn't."
Paulo rolled his eyes, and faced the young woman. Speaking in English once again, his own words accented, he said, "What's your name?"
"Nene," she said. "And my Magic is real. I think I'm the only one in the area at the moment, but that will change by the end of the week. Gambia is a small country, with much traffic, and the Magic is already here."
Paulo nodded once. "Prove it. Do something Magical."
Nene paused, and looked to the side. "You understand, the Magic is sexual in nature. I cannot use it without doing something intimate to you."
"You're a whore, are you not?" he said. "What do you care?" He scoffed. "Or are you saying I have to pay you?"
"I am not a whore," she said, giving him a glare. "I gave your friend a good time last night, because I was proving my power to him. I can tell you two are foreigners. You are visitors to this country. And I presume you want to leave it. I do as well. For my own reasons."
"We need to get back to Brazil. Back to our families." He gave Marcus a disapproving glance as he said that, then looked back to Nene. He motioned westward, to the ocean. "Our home city is five thousand miles away. Assuming you really have this Sex Magic, how will it help us cross an ocean and half a continent?"
