by Jasper Bark
They mirrored the pulse of the ancient energy lines that flowed down the Poteau Mitan in the centre of the temple. Drawn from the invisible world, these lines spread out across the Ounfó like a snare. A net to capture the souls of the world's richest people. With the blessing of the Loa his Ounfó would become a temple to the economic dominance of the world.
The ceremony was past its peak. All that remained was to seal the Pot-tet with their Bakas. This sacred talisman trapped the Gross Bon Ange in the Pot-tets and stopped it from returning to the invisible world where the Loa dwelt. This was where the Gros Bon Ange had come from and where it wanted to return.
The symbols of the Baka were carved onto pieces of ivory and stained with the blood of a particular guest. They were magically designed to hold each guest's Gros Bon Ange captive and to stop them leaving the earthly plane.
Once they were on the containers the deal was ratified and they belonged to Doc Papa. The guests didn't realise that yet, but they would soon enough.
There was a cryogenics centre built out back of the temple. With the Gros Bon Anges imprisoned, the Pot-tets would be taken there and deep frozen. They were the only truly recession-proof assets Doc Papa had ever encountered. Because they were the true source of value in the world.
As the beat of the drums reached the right pitch, Doc Papa raised the sacred rattle that signified his office as Houngan. Dark energies crackled down the Poteau Mitan and moved through his body, filling the rattle like a malevolent beacon.
Doc Papa's body shook with the transference of this energy as though hit by lightning. He could feel the awe this inspired in his acolytes every time he performed the act. Then he shook the Asson over the Bakas and let the energy leap out of it and infuse them all. Empowering each one with the dark blessing of the Loa.
Something was wrong.
As the last of the dark energy moved from him into the Bakas Doc Papa felt a presence at the outskirts of the Peristyle. A presence that shouldn't be there.
He looked across the space and saw Tomlinson, the Commander of the Armed Guards. What was he doing here? Doc Papa didn't bother hiding his fury. He turned to Vincenzo, and signalled for him to gather up the Bakas and place them on the Pot-tets arranged on the stone altar.
Tomlinson was a big man and heavily armed but Doc Papa could see him shaking as he approached. Doc Papa pointed to the door to the courtyard and Tomlinson followed him. As soon as they were through Tomlinson knelt.
"Sir. I apologise for the interruption. I know it's unwarranted but we've had a Code Red security breach."
"What?"
"The Zombies, they've escaped and killed two of my men."
"How did this happen?"
"I don't know yet sir," Tomlinson un-holstered his pistol and offered it to Doc Papa. "I take full responsibility."
"Put that away you idiot. If I wanted to kill you I have far better means. And don't think you'll get off that lightly if I do. Where are they now?"
"They're heading south towards the coast. We've got a chopper following them. We also have reports of a vessel off the southern coast."
"Do not move from this spot until I tell you," said Doc Papa. Tomlinson saluted and bowed. Doc Papa left him and returned to the Peristyle.
He took Vincenzo to one side. "There are matters that need my attention. You will have to finish conducting the ceremony. If anything goes wrong I will hold you entirely responsible. Do you understand?" Vincenzo nodded. Doc Papa could see that he was fearful yet surprised.
Doc Papa didn't bother to explain. He left Vincenzo and had Felippe, the largest of his acolytes, accompany him and Tomlinson to his jeep.
The jeep pulled up at the edge of a rise overlooking the harbour. Doc Papa and Felippe got out. He told the guards with them to lift down the two sheep he'd brought. He and Felippe led the animals away and left the guards with the jeep.
The chopper following the group of Zombies had given them continual updates on the group's position as they'd driven over. Doc Papa didn't need to be told where they were going though. He gave the guards precise orders where to head.
There was only one natural harbour on the island. A vessel had been spotted. The Zombies must be heading for it. They couldn't be acting alone. Someone was guiding them.
Someone was trying to steal his second biggest asset. Three of the guests were missing. He'd despatched guards to find them as soon as their absence was spotted. Now he knew where they'd gone.
He didn't know whose pay they were in but they would suffer as they told him. No-one tried to take what was his. He was going to send a message. Written in blood on their broken bodies.
There was a tiny beach below. A large promontory hid it from the harbour. They took the sheep down the steep path. This was the very beach where Doc Papa's body had washed up several years ago. It had significance for him. Therefore it had power.
He tethered the sheep to a tree at the edge of the beach. Their eyes were tinged with green and this was why he had chosen them. They were the perfect offering.
Doc Papa removed the knife from his belt. He took hold of the first sheep by its horns and said a prayer to Saint Ulrich, known as Agwe in Voodoo, sovereign Loa of the sea.
When the prayer was done he slit the sheep's throats and caught the blood in two white cups, Agwe's favourite colour. He then slit the sheep's stomachs, cracked open their chests and removed their hearts.
Felippe placed a miniature flat bottomed boat on the ground and Doc Papa placed both the hearts in it. Felippe added gunpowder, dried fish, white chocolate, a bottle of champagne and one cup of sheep's blood.
Doc Papa drank the other cup. Then he took a handful of corn flour and, letting it trickle through his fingers in a steady stream, drew Agwe's Vévé around the boat. When this was done he lit an oil lamp in a white cup and placed that on the boat as Felippe started to beat on a drum.
Doc Papa spoke an invocation to Agwe. Then he raised a conch shell to his lips and blew. He placed the boat on to his head and began to wade, with great care, into the sea.
He drew one last breath as the sea covered his head. The boat floated away. Doc Papa watched it from below as the waves carried it. It sailed some distance and then sank. This showed it had been accepted and the ceremony was a success.
He felt something grip his legs and begin to shake him. It enclosed his body and squeezed the air out of his lungs. His body sank to the floor like a discarded skin as he was lifted out of it.
It was Agwe. The Loa had come in his most vengeful form. He was the crushing bleakness of the ocean floor, where no light ever shines. He was the boiling anger of the storm that capsizes stricken ships. He was the decimating force of the tidal wave, destroying coastal dwellings.
Though Doc Papa left his body Agwe didn't take it over and ride him. Instead Doc Papa mounted Agwe and rode him like the foam on the crest of a wave. Doc Papa's spirit skimmed along the surface with Agwe, as Felippe waded into the sea and pulled his body back to the shore.
Agwe took him to the yacht that was pulling into the harbour. There were four people aboard - a woman and three men, all in their early twenties. Borrowing the energy of the Loa, Doc Papa explored the yacht in his incorporeal form. He also explored the occupants.
One in particular caught his attention. He was a little younger than the others, but his mental faculties were far more developed. That was his weakness.
There was a huge imbalance in his psychic energy. A disproportionate amount was invested in certain cognitive functions. This placed him far above most normal intellects, at the expense of other aspects of his consciousness, namely his emotional and spiritual sides.
As his reasoning and intelligence had grown and blossomed, the other aspects of his conscious had withered on the vine. This was like an open door to Doc Papa. He had none of the usual defences an average person has. Nothing stood in his way as Doc Papa moved into the young man's mind.
Andy was his name. Doc Papa began to pick over his memories as he seep
ed into the young man's mind and took control. Andy was so lacking in self awareness that he didn't notice he was being possessed. Way past the point when a normal individual would have noticed something was amiss and tried to fight it, he was still unaware. It was a fait accompli.
His memories were not like other people's. Anything to do with feelings or empathy was repressed or discarded due to his inability to process it. Instead there was an endless array of facts and raw data, more than the average mind could hold.
Doc Papa found it overwhelming at first. With a little methodical sifting however, he found what he needed. It surprised him.
His estimation of the situation was wrong. These four were not in the employ of any rival. They, and two of the missing guests, were part of some guerrilla organisation. They viewed the theft of his property as some sort of political act.
How truly pathetic. They seriously thought the corpses he had animated were some sort of noble monstrosity. Never in his life had Doc Papa seen a more miserable and ridiculous attempt at subversion.
They were about to see the error of their ways. They wouldn't enjoy it. But he would.
Chapter Twenty-Three
"Andy, have you seen Klaus anywhere?" It was the one called Dan clattering down the stairs to the engine room. "That engine is sounding seriously unhealthy, are you sure you know what's up with it?"
Doc Papa met him at the bottom of the stairs. "Oh yes," he said through Andy's mouth. "I know exactly why it's making that noise. Come and see."
Dan followed him without a second thought. He was looking at the camcorder he carried everywhere.
None of the others aboard the boat suspected a thing. They were used to Andy acting in a weird manner. They didn't notice any of the tell-tale signs of possession. The vacant stare, the hollow voice, the weird movements, that was just business as usual for Andy as far as they were concerned. It was too perfect.
"We're supposed to be docking now," said Dan. "They're gonna be waiting for us. It won't be cool if we just leave them hanging. Was Klaus any use to you or did he just get in the way?"
Doc Papa led him round the corner and showed him Klaus. "Actually," he said. "Klaus proved to be very useful. I learned a lot."
Dan reacted exactly as Doc Papa hoped he would. He was appalled and nearly hysterical with grief. It was good to have his work appreciated.
Dan dropped the camcorder, fell to his knees and vomited. Doc Papa was very pleased. He couldn't help but admire his handiwork It hadn't been easy with Andy's puny frame, even though Klaus wasn't very big himself.
Klaus was stretched out like a dissected frog. His feet had been nailed to the floor and his hands were nailed to a low ceiling beam above the engine. There was a bloody hole in his throat where Doc Papa had removed his vocal chords. He hadn't wanted Klaus's screams to alert the others.
He'd needed information from Klaus, but it wasn't necessary for him to talk. Doc Papa had found other ways to interrogate him. Ways he was rather proud of, even though he'd had to improvise.
Klaus's stomach was slit wide open. Doc Papa had removed his intestinal tract and tied it to the propeller shaft. As the propeller spun it had tugged Klaus's innards from his body.
While Klaus twitched and writhed in pain and tried to scream out of the bubbling, red hole in his throat, his life had flashed before his eyes. Doc Papa had watched with him. Lifting the succession of memories, like a thin film, from Klaus's mind.
It was surprising how total someone's recall was at the point of death. The whole of Klaus's pointless little life was laid bare. Doc Papa saw his lawyer parents neglect him in favour of their careers, packing him off to boarding school at the first opportunity. He witnessed the older boys punch and taunt him relentlessly for being scrawny with a big nose. He watched what the games master did in the showers when he kept Klaus behind after the lesson.
Doc Papa sneered as Klaus built the brittle facade of his character to protect himself from the betrayals and injustice he'd suffered. He sighed with boredom as the anger Klaus felt at his school and his parents became a general anger at authority and the state. He knew this anger was really fear. The fear of a little boy, who never got over being bullied, dressed up in left-wing rhetoric.
Doc Papa brought this fear to perfect fruition in the last moments of Klaus's life. As the last memory faded and the breath slipped from Klaus's body, Doc Papa let him know that all his fears had come true.
He was dying at the hands of everything he hated most. The corrupt capitalist system had finally come and tortured him to death. Just as he always feared it would.
Doc Papa had also learned everything he needed to know about the ZLF and their pitiable attempt at direct action. Benjamin and Tatyana were the ringleaders. He had been wary of them, for reasons he couldn't explain, since the first background check. Now he knew why.
Miriam Chevalier was still a mystery to him. Why was she helping them? Did they have something over her? There was nothing in her background to explain it.
Doc Papa would find out soon enough. Just as soon as he had destroyed this yacht and killed its occupants. He flooded the fuel tanks and reached for a lighter.
Dan was still crawling around on all fours in front of Klaus, vomiting and weeping.
"Jesus Christ Andy," he said. "Why? I mean Klaus was a pain in the ass but he didn't deserve this. No-one deserves this."
Doc Papa picked up a shovel with Andy's hands.
"Wait Andy, wait," said Dan. "I don't want to die. I want to see my child grow up. What the fuck are you playing at?"
"Call it a counter revolution," said Doc Papa as he split Dan's head open.
Chapter Twenty-Four
What the fuck was happening?
Benjamin had been standing on the shore for nearly two hours now. There was a big black stealth chopper circling overhead and an army of guards likely to turn up any minute.
The yacht was only a small distance from the shore. They could see it clearly but it hadn't moved an inch since they got to the harbour.
"Can Zombies swim?" he asked Miriam.
She sighed and rolled her eyes. What the fuck was her problem? What had he ever done to her? She said the noble monsters were her fellow islanders and she wanted to help them. Well who rescued them from the compound? He did. So why was she giving him such a hard time?
"Could we send out a flare?" said Tatyana. "Or light a fire?"
"Have you got a flare?" said Benjamin. "Cos I haven't. Or any wood for that matter and, in case you've forgotten, Zombies are afraid of fire."
"I'm only trying to help. I don't see you coming up with any ideas. We need to find some way to talk with the guys on the yacht. Why didn't you think to bring the radio Andy made?"
"Where was I supposed to carry it? Up my ass?"
A couple of the Zombies near them started to get restless.
"Stop arguing," said Miriam. "It makes them harder to control. You must remain calm at all times."
"Oh yeah," said Benjamin. "Like the First Rule of Interaction. 'Show no signs of life'."
"If you want to put it that way," said Miriam, turning away from him. What, was it her time of the month or something?
"Seriously though," said Tatyana, taking shallow breaths and hardly moving. "We need to get in contact with them. Do you think they can see we're here from the deck?"
"I don't know," said Benjamin, trying to sound as emotionless as possible. He had a sudden flash of Richard and his Mom when they were really pissed at each other but were trying not to argue in front of him. This must be what they felt like. "Maybe they can't see us cos it's dark. I can't understand why they've just stopped."
Benjamin stared at the yacht. It was Richard's pride and joy. When Benjamin was younger Richard had dragged him and his Mom away on trips several times a year.
Benjamin could remember standing in the marina with his Mom watching the yacht come in, willing it not to arrive. Trying to put off the moment when he'd have to get on board and watch Richard
strut about and play captain. Benjamin was expected to act as an unpaid crew member which meant Richard got to order him around the whole time.
Now, in a complete reversal he was standing on the shore willing the yacht to come in. Willing it to move or at least do something other than sit there dead in the water.
Then it exploded.
A giant ball of fire burst out of the stern of the yacht tearing it into a thousand flaming fragments. Benjamin could feel the heat of the explosion from the shore. The noise was deafening. He felt a stabbing pain in his inner ear.
The front of the yacht keeled over into the water and started to sink. Burning debris rained down, sending the Zombies into a panic.
Oh shit! What was Richard going to say? Benjamin was a dead man if he ever got out of this alive.
Miriam began chanting in a weird voice to subdue the Zombies. She was having a hard time of it with flaming chunks of yacht falling all around them.
Benjamin felt numb with shock. Then he saw something moving across the water away from the yacht. Someone had gotten away on one of the jet skis. It was Tweakie. Thank God she was alright. Maybe the others had got out too. She was charging across the water at full throttle. As she came into view Benjamin could see she was terrified. He'd never seen Tweakie so scared before.
He waded into the water to get her attention. Before he could shout to her, Tweakie hit a wave and took off into the air. She lost control of the jet ski and it flipped right over, smashing into her in mid air.
It hit the water upside down and sank. So did Tweakie.
This wasn't happening. They couldn't be dead. They just couldn't.
Benjamin started wading into the sea. He was going to swim out and pull them free. All four of them. They weren't going to die on his watch. No sir.
Tatyana grabbed him. She tried to pull him back to the shore. He shrugged her off and kept on going. But she wouldn't let up.
