Way of the Barefoot Zombie

by Jasper Bark

  "Eew," said Tatyana. "And she got away with all this?"

  "She ruled the whole plantation like a tyrant. Who was going to stop her? She used to take male and female slaves to her bed then have them killed the next morning. She would have other slaves whipped to death just for looking at her the wrong way. Everyone was terrified of her. Eventually she over stepped herself though."

  "What happened?"

  "There was a small colony of natives on the north side of the island who all practised Voodoo like she did. Mary took up with their Houngan, that's what they call a Voodoo high priest. They all have these rattles that hang round their necks that are called assons. No-one else is allowed to wear one, cos they're like a badge of office or something. This priest was a guy by the name of Toussaint. This was all fine until Mary gets the hots for the guy who was betrothed to Toussaint's daughter. When the guy turned her down she kidnapped Toussaint's daughter and planned to sacrifice her in some evil ceremony. So Toussaint led a revolt of the slaves. They stormed Mangrove Hall, murdered Mary and set light to the building. The whole plantation was in ruins for nearly a century until Doc Papa, the guy who runs this place, restored it two years ago."

  "So what happened to all the slaves and their descendants?" said Tatyana. "Did they stay on the island?"

  "Erm, I dunno. I guess they all went to Haiti or something."

  The Chauffeur lapsed into silence. He looked uncomfortable. Probably because he didn't know as much as he made out. Tatyana felt bad about this and changed the subject.

  "So are you still on short term contracts, or do you work here full time?"

  "Full time now. Pay's phenomenal and so are the incentives."

  "Incentives?"

  "Let's just say I found a way to put all of my soul into my work."

  "Ooh, sounds intriguing."

  "Hey do you guys want to listen to some music?" said the chauffeur after another uncomfortable pause. "I got digital. You can get almost any station."

  "That's okay man," said Benjamin. "Silence is good."

  "Okay," said the chauffeur and put the visor up between them.

  Tatyana looked at Benjamin as if to say 'what the fuck?' Benjamin shrugged. They guy seemed to clam up pretty quickly. Had he rumbled them? Did he think Tatyana was coming on to him? She was pretty friendly. Some guys misread that.

  Benjamin didn't think so. The chauffeur looked tense, a little nervous even. Like he'd let something slip. Said something he shouldn't have. But what? Was it all that stuff about Mary Papamal? If she was so well known why wouldn't he be allowed to tell them?

  They were the last to arrive at Mangrove Hall. A beautiful three story stone and timber framed mansion from the eighteenth century. It sat at the top of a hill and was surrounded by beautifully kept terrace lawns with lush tropical plants in the borders.

  To the left of the mansion was a complex of what looked like five-star apartments, which Benjamin gathered was the guests' accommodation. To the right was a building that looked like something out of Silicon Valley. God knows what went on in there.

  From the moment they stepped through the doors of the restored mansion, a hundred sets of eyes were on Benjamin and Tatyana. All of them silently assessing how much they were worth.

  Clothes, hair and jewellery, shoes, watches and handbags, all of it was given the once over by the staff and guests alike. The price of every item was being mentally calculated. Brand labels spotted and judgements made. The scrutiny was that much more intense for how casually and thoroughly everyone indulged in it.

  Benjamin acted as though he was slumming it just to be seen in the place. Tatyana tried her best to follow suit. Inwardly he recoiled from identifying with these people, Secretly he suspected this had as much to do with wanting their acceptance as it did with despising them.

  They checked in at the main desk and were shown through to a hospitality suite where a light buffet and drinks were laid on. The suite was in what would have been the mansion's old ballroom. It looked like something straight out of Gone With the Wind. Benjamin wondered what sort of infernal gatherings Mary Papamal had presided over here.

  Waiting staff circulated with bottles of vintage wine as the other guests picked over the exotic buffet like carrion birds. Pecking orders were already being established as they sized each other up.

  A grey haired man with rattlesnake skin boots and a Texas drawl was holding court.

  "So I get into the lift with this lawyer and she says to me: 'Mr McKane, can I give you a blow job?' And I say: 'Okay, but what's in it for me?'"

  "Oh Sam McKane, you're too much," said the platinum blonde from the plane.

  "Yeah. Too much for your price bracket."

  Benjamin and Tatyana helped themselves to braised Guinea Hen with truffles and sipped glasses of Dom Perignon. They acted as though no-one dared talk to them to hide the fact that no-one could be bothered to talk to them. Most likely because no-one knew who they were.

  Benjamin was just wondering if this could be used to their advantage when the room fell silent. The staff had placed a small podium in the centre of the room. Samuel Palmer, the CEO of St Ignatius, stepped up to it. He was a tall man in his early forties with a long face and a completely bald head. He had penetrating brown eyes and a predatory smile. You couldn't miss his natural presence and the commanding aura of power he gave off.

  "Esteemed guests," he said. "I am delighted to welcome you to St Ignatius. I can promise you this, the next few days will be the single most important time of your lives. You are on your way to joining the world's one true elite. Sure you're rich. Some of you even have a little influence. You wouldn't be here otherwise. But you're looking for something more, something bigger and something better. And why not? You deserve it. You've all proven that.

  "You've come here to find that extra something. And you won't be disappointed. You know there's more to be had, and you're people with a lot of initiative. If there was another way to get hold of it, you would have found out about it. But there isn't. Only we hold the key to success beyond success. Only we can point you down the path to wealth beyond reason and power beyond excess.

  "What we're offering is more than any human can take. So we're going to make you more than human. Then you can take more than anyone's fair share. You will walk where most others fear to go. Your feet will tread the Way of the Barefoot Zombie."

  There was huge applause and whoops of excitement from the guests. They devoured his words like cash starved banks in a government bail out.

  "Tomorrow we begin the work in earnest. Tonight I suggest you take advantage of our hospitality and unwind a little." Palmer raised his wine glass to the guests and they returned the gesture.

  A palpable thrill ran round the room. There was intense expectation. A sense that everyone was about to be let in on one of the most powerful secrets in existence. That there was no other place in world to be at that moment. That all the right people, and only the right people, were there.

  A waitress moved past Benjamin, swerved to avoid another guest and bumped into Tatyana. She dropped the tray of half empty glasses she was carrying and they soaked Tatyana's shoes.

  "I'm terribly sorry ma'am," the waitress said, kneeling to clear up the broken glass.

  "That's quite alright. Here let me help you."

  The room went quiet. Everyone turned to look at Benjamin and Tatyana. She'd broken a fundamental rule of conduct. You don't offer to help people who are paid to wait on you. Suddenly they began to suspect that it wasn't only the right people who were here.

  Benjamin felt them circling. As though a room full of wolves had just discovered two sheep with the temerity to dress in their clothing.

  He went cold. Sweat broke out on the back of his neck. Panic threatened to overwhelm him. They were going to be revealed. They'd only just got here and everything was falling apart. He had to do something. He had to do something right now.

  Uncle Brian came to his rescue.

  Benjamin emptied his g
lass over the waitress's head. "Yeah, let me help you bitch," he said and threw the glass on the floor next to her. The waitress gasped. "Let me help you clean this up properly."

  He put his foot on the back of the waitress's neck and forced her face down into the broken glass and spilled alcohol. "You lick this shit up. Lick it up, because you're dumb and worthless and mopping the floor is the only thing your ugly face is good for."

  He was channelling Brian now. Spitting out all the rage and disgust he'd seen his uncle heap on those beneath him. Had Brian been this frightened when he did it? Had he enjoyed it this much? Benjamin was disgusted with himself. Disgusted that it felt so good.

  He looked up to see the other guests smiling with approval. A couple of them even applauded. He relaxed. Their cover wasn't blown. He'd passed the first test and they'd accepted him.

  He belonged. They knew that now. But worst of all, so did he.

  Chapter Three

  Tatyana was fixing her make up in the bathroom mirror. Applying another mask, creating another identity to hide behind.

  Ironically it took her a lot longer to apply a little foundation, some mascara and lipstick than it did to apply all the make up she'd used as a Deathwalker. Then she'd been trying to make herself look like a walking corpse. Now she was trying to pass herself off as something even more hideous.

  Benjamin came up behind her as she reached for some lip gloss. He put his hands on her hips and pulled her to him. She could feel his hard-on in the small of her back. He slid his hands around front and cupped her breasts.

  "How about a little make up sex?"

  She shrugged him off. "We don't have much time. We've got to be there at eight and I'm trying to fix my make up."

  "That's what I'm trying to do. Fix us and make up. Shit, you're not still pissed about last night are you?"

  "I'm not pissed, I'm just... I hated seeing you like that. I feel weird. Being around you right now brings up all kinds of memories."

  "I'm not your father Tatyana."

  "I know you're not."

  She turned to face him. He was slumped against the polished marble wall. She thought about reaching out to him. Of maybe even dragging him onto the huge bed next door to make up. Then before she could stop herself she said: "But you did a pretty good impression of him last night."

  Benjamin lost it. "Well I had to do something. They were on to us. You saw them. If I hadn't acted as quickly as I did we might have blown the whole thing. It's not my fault that you..."

  "That I what?'

  "Nothing."

  "Go on say it. It's not your fault that I fucked up. That's what you think isn't it?"

  Benjamin looked away. He stared at the floor and shrugged.

  "Well, you did go to help that waitress. I mean what were you thinking? You know what these people are like. How they think and the way they treat staff. We're trying to blend in. To act and think like them, so they accept us as one of their own. I did what I did to look like one of them. To fit in. We've come too far to blow it all now."

  Tatyana turned back to the mirror. She didn't want to look at herself so she gazed at the sink. "You're right," she said after a long pause. "It's just, well that wasn't you last night. And it scared me. It's a side of you I would never have guessed existed. And it did... well, it did bring back memories."

  "I'm not your father."

  "I know you're not, okay? You don't have to keep saying that. But that is just the sort of thing he would have done. And even now..."

  "Even now what?"

  "Look, I'm not accusing you, I'm not blaming you, but you sound just like him."

  "Oh come on Tatyana!"

  He was about to blow up again. She reached out and took hold of his hands. "Please, I'm trying to reach out here. I'm trying to explain how I feel."

  "But saying that I sound just like him..."

  "I'm not trying to pick a fight, but you do. That's exactly the sort of thing he used to say. 'You don't know the sort of people I have to mix with. I only do what I do to fit in with them'." Her light Russian accent became thicker as she impersonated her father. "That was always his excuse."

  Benjamin let go of her hands and went to leave. She caught hold of his arm. "Wait. Look, we're both on edge. It's this place. It's doing things to us. But you're right we have come too far to blow it all now. There's too much at stake. We need each other. Please, let's not fight. You did what you had to do and I can't help feeling the way I do about it. But I love you and I need you now more than ever."

  Benjamin stood with his shoulders slumped, staring at the floor. He sighed. "Okay"

  "Love me?"

  "Always."

  Tatyana smiled and kissed him on the cheek. "We've only got a few minutes before we're due in the lecture theatre. Can we take a rain-check on that make up sex?"

  "You bet."

  Chapter Four

  The lecture theatre was in the hi-tech annex on the other side of the mansion. Like everything else on St Ignatius it reeked of quality and taste. From the plush leather seating to the fully articulated screens around the stage, the attention to detail was flawless.

  Tatyana wasn't the only one to be impressed. For all their sophistication, many of the other guests shot admiring glances at the facilities. Some caught each other's gaze and exchanged guilty smiles, as though caught out for not being jaded enough.

  One guest stood out from the others the minute she walked into the room. She was a tall, elegant African American wearing a traditional African dress. She appeared to glide rather than walk and there was something very noble in the way she carried herself.

  Two course officials pursued her into the theatre.

  "Excuse me Ms Chevalier," said one, he was out of breath.

  "Call me Miriam,"

  "I'm terribly sorry. But there's a strict dress code for these lectures."

  "There's nothing wrong with what I'm wearing."

  "You have to wear a suit," said the other official. "Or some type of formal business wear. It is course policy I'm afraid."

  Miriam straightened her back and pushed her shoulders back. Her voice took on a strange, hollow quality. Like it came from somewhere far away. "I said there's nothing wrong with what I'm wearing, it's perfectly suitable for the occasion."

  The body language of the two officials completely changed. Their faces relaxed and they seemed to be looking far into the distance, paying no attention to what was going on around them.

  "There's nothing wrong with what you're wearing," said the first official, in a deadpan tone.

  "It's perfectly fitting," said the other.

  "Thank you," said Miriam and the two officials drifted away in a trance.

  Miriam became aware that Tatyana was watching her and looked her right in the eye. Miriam seemed quite shocked that anyone had seen what had just taken place.

  Tatyana smiled in a nervous but friendly way. Miriam did not return the smile. She appeared cross. Tatyana's head started to spin. Her vision blurred and she slumped against Benjamin, who helped her sit down.

  "You okay?" he said. "What happened?"

  "I'm not sure. I... I can't seem to remember."

  "Look," said Benjamin, helping her back to her feet. "We'll go sit at the back okay? So we don't draw any attention."

  "Okay,"

  He guided her into a seat. For a moment or two she couldn't remember where she was, or what she was doing here. Then it all came back in a sudden jolt that made her gasp.

  Several guests turned to look at her.

  "She's okay," said Benjamin, with his best winning smile. "Too much celebrating last night."

  The lights dimmed then, taking attention away from her.

  Tatyana knew where she was now and why she was here. But for the life of her she couldn't remember getting to the lecture theatre. The last thing she remembered was the fight she had with Benjamin that morning. Everything after that was a blank.

  A single spotlight picked out a glass podium that rose o
ut of the stage floor. Samuel Palmer stepped up to it.

  "Good morning," Palmer said. "I trust you enjoyed our hospitality last night? I know some of you made very good use of it." Palmer smiled at this. A frightening smile that was more of a leer. The low chuckle that came from the audience was even more unsettling. Tatyana was thankful she'd gone to bed early.

  "But that isn't what we're here to talk about. You're eager to meet the man behind this whole operation. How do I introduce a man like Doc Papa? I should probably turn to Shakespeare, because only the greatest writer in our language could do him justice. Shakespeare said: 'Some are born great, some achieve greatness and some have greatness thrust upon them'. There aren't many people for whom all three of those are true. But Doc Papa is that rare exception. A man who has gained power and knowledge beyond human reckoning."

  A low rumble of drums started in the background, pounding out Voodoo rhythms that built to a crescendo as Palmer said: "Ladies and Gentlemen I give you Doc Papa."

  The sound of the drums filled the hall. Tatyana felt them reverberate deep within her. Her body's natural rhythms synchronised themselves to the beat.

  As they did she felt something ancient and primal awaken inside her. Like a distant memory from a time beyond recollection. It was as though there was another presence in her mind, whispering to her in a language she could neither hear nor understand. It felt alien from anything she'd encountered, but at the same time friendly and pure.

  And then it was gone. It left like a lover withdrawing on the point of orgasm. She hadn't realised how intimate the presence was until it was gone. The lost memories of the last half hour flowed back into her mind in its place.

  Before she had a chance to process the memories, two Haitian dancers entered the stage. A man and a woman, both dressed in traditional garb. The man carried a large boa constrictor on his shoulders. The woman had a long necklace of beads with seven rows in the colours of the rainbow. In one hand they both held a lit torch, in the other a bottle of rum. The six screens came together and began to show intricate symbols drawn on bare ground in white dust.