Zombie Revolution

by K. Bartholomew

  Immediately afterwards, I ventured to empty my bowels and then threw the contents of the chamber pot overboard. I stared out into the vast openness that is the mid-Atlantic, the cold air piercing through my skin, making my eyes water, my clenched fists shaking. Then I marched into the crew’s quarters and barked out orders to them all. Gottlieb, says I, catch something big for the Captain. Arian, says I, maintain the rigging. Boy, says I, steer the damn ship. Volkert, says I, I have a special task for you and would you please clean out the chamber pots. I returned to my quarters and allowed the relief to flood through me.

  Maybe I will remain in the shipping business after all.

  7

  November 11th 1872

  My chamber pot smells fresh which is a good thing, Volkert did a wondrous job, but I dare say I shall foul it up again sooner rather than later for today has been a most unnerving day.

  I was sipping my morning coffee, trying to see through the thick fog when tapped on the shoulder I was by Captain Briggs, almost causing me to choke on the hot fluid. It was the first time I’d seen him on deck in the four days since we left Staten Island. He looked pale and appeared to have lost considerable weight, although he tried to conceal this with his uniform and large overcoat tugged up high, I still decided he was considerably thinner than the day we embarked. His sudden appearance on deck had startled me, but I was glad to finally have him contribute to the voyage, if for no other reason than to take some of the workload from my person because quite frankly I could do with the rest.

  He enquired as to our progress. We are set on course for the Azores and should be able to replenish stores in two weeks, said I. I told him the crew were working hard and that we had struck lucky with this particular quartet of Germans. I was glad to inform him about the alcoholic stench emanating from the floorboards and that I had taken upon my own authority to leave the doors open in order to air the place out. He remained amicable and friendly throughout the intercourse, just like old times. That is until I enquired upon his health. He suddenly exploded upon me with a fierce and frightening venom that quite unnerved me. Spit flew from his mouth, his arms waved about in the air like some madman from Bedlam, he even kicked on one occasion the hull. He kicked it so hard I assumed he’d broken his foot, yet no signs of pain or discomfort were displayed upon the Captain’s countenance. Richardson, said he, the job of the First Mate is not to enquire upon the health of the Captain, but to carry out the Captain’s bidding. Yes sir, said I, taking the matter no further for fear of antagonising him even more so.

  What happened next though is what I found so incredible, so unlike the Captain and so strange that I have not a single clue as what to think about it. The Captain turned away and lit up a pipe he’d taken from his knapsack. He drew the noxious fumes deep into his lungs and then blew out a large plume of smoke that was more than noticeable in the cold November air. Are you sure that’s safe, said I, you confiscated those for good reason, sir. Not one word in retort, said he and nor did he appear worried for the safety of the ship, her crew and indeed his family. I looked around and was thankful not one of the Krauts were close by to see this display lest we have a mutiny on our hands. Finally the Captain put away his ill-gotten pipe and turned to me. Have my breakfast brought with due haste, said he, for I have an empty belly.

  I stood and watched Gottlieb fish for the Captain’s bounty. After many minutes he netted a trio of herring. I hope this like for the Captain, said he, in his broken English, for yesterday’s fish he not like well.

  Cook Head met with the Captain in his reception room with the trio of fish. The Captain had taken one look at his bounty and spat on the floor. These fish are dead, said he, can you not follow orders? They had been dead in the net, said Cook Head. Then scream in his face, had the Captain.

  The Captain came out and stood on deck. He watched us at work and likewise, the Krauts watched him with a sudden surprise and shock. The Captain pointed at Gottlieb. You, said he, you are looking at me funny boy, I want you in my cabin with haste. The remaining Krauts kept their heads low and carried on with their tasks, while Gottlieb sauntered toward the Captain and was led beneath the bridge and out of sight.

  That was three hours ago.

  8

  November 12th 1872

  The fog was thicker than I’d ever known in all my days at sea. I held my hand at arms-length in front of my face but could barely even see my fingers.

  I sat in the galley, eating my bread and cheese. Today Cook Head brought me some hardtack which went down as well as expected. He told me he’d been trying to access the Captain’s reception area alas he could not for the door was locked. It did not come as a surprise to me, for the Captain has been acting rather queer indeed.

  Then entered Volkert who marched straight up to me, slamming his fist against the table, my coffee splashing in the mug. Where is Gottlieb, demanded he. I have not seen him since yesterday, said I. Alarm was had by us both. To where could he have disappeared on a ship? He calmed down upon the sight of his breakfast and then tucked into his bounty with the rare avarice of a seaman. He kept watch on me between tearing out hunks of bread from his loaf. He sliced off sections from the cheese and placed them in his mouth, his mind full of thought. Then he spoke and sprayed food particles as he did. We want alcohol, said he, just one barrel as a gesture of goodwill. I slammed my fist into the table just as ferociously as did he only moments before. Each barrel is worth twenty one dollars, said I. If you pay then I will deliver it to your quarters myself. We don’t have that kind of money, said he so I poured him some coffee and he looked grateful. I shall enquire upon Gottlieb, said I to he, and there is work to be done.

  As for the Captain, I was preoccupied as to the health of his family. I had been unable to enquire as to their constitution following his prior outburst, not wanting to risk another. I have not seen much of the Captain this voyage, but I’ve not heard so much as a peep from either Mrs. Briggs or little Sophia.

  I knocked on the Captain’s door. I waited. I knocked again. I waited. Then finally the Captain opened up. Richardson, said he, what do you want? There is a problem, said I, in that we can’t find Gottlieb. Perhaps you have an idea as to his situation, sir? If not then your breakfast may be delayed indefinitely. The Captain gave me a look as if to suggest I was greatly inconveniencing him and didn’t I have better matters in which to attend. If you really believe it’s any of your business, said he to I, I sent him fishing. Well then, said I to he, it appears our German friend has fallen overboard and will have inevitably perished. At this grim news, not a flinch was evidenced upon the Captain’s countenance, not one ounce of compassion did he exhibit. I expect we’ll pick up somebody new in the Azores, said he, and would you mind but I have a family in need of attention. I peered my head round to see if I could bear glimpse to anybody inside, for I could hear none. Though I was prevented by the angle of the door frame and by the Captain’s sudden slamming of it in my face.

  I went to break the news to my Kraut friends that their compatriot had perished, but not before detouring into the hold to fetch some raw alcohol. A good leader should remember that he is not simply in charge of a mission, a business or a ship. A good leader should know that he is also in charge of men. Most men can be bought off and appeased by alcohol. I filled three flasks with the liquid and placed them on the table in front of the Krauts.

  For your sorrows, said I to they, and I’m deeply sorry for your loss.

  9

  November 13th 1872

  I am now deeply concerned as to the state of the Captain, for he seems like a different man entirely to whom I have in the past shared numerous a voyage.

  I lay in bed, the cold piercing my bones like rarely before. I held my eyes shut and hoped for more time in the warmth prior to tending my duties. Yet even the supposed comfort of my bed felt cold and so I opened my eyes and to my surprise, there stood Captain Briggs, cutlass strapped to his person. He bore down on me with a grin upon his face, blood red gums overl
apping yellow teeth. He straightened up, put the pipe to his mouth and drew in an abnormally large heave before blowing out a cloud of smoke which enveloped me in my hammock. The smell in the confined space was choking and was far from what I had gone to bed the night before expecting to wake up to. I jumped up with a start, what on earth is the matter, had said I to he.

  You think me a fool, had said he to me, you think that just because I tend my poor family in my cabin that I don’t know what’s going on within my own ship? What has happened, said I to he, for I know not what you are talking about.

  Thievery must be punished, said he, looting is a hanging offence and I shall see that you are dealt with once we reach the Azores.

  Thinking I’d heard incorrectly, I begged for clarification.

  You stole a large quantity of alcohol from one of my precious barrels, said he. You retired to bed, the German filth that infest this ship then got drunk and then returned for more. One full barrel of raw alcohol has been pillaged by you and your friends. You are my enemies and you will be punished in a manner your crime befits.

  He then demanded I come to the hold to see for my own self. I had first to get dressed lest the cold chill me to my very bones. Yet he did not care for such trivial matters and insisted I accompanied him with immediate haste.

  In the hold I could indeed see an empty barrel rolling around on its side. It rumbled around and around, smashing from pillar to post. Oh no, what has happened, said I to he.

  He placed his pipe to his mouth, stared at me with a crooked smile and drew in a large intake to his lungs, the bowl glowing bright red as he so did. He paused for effect, savouring my terror, then blew out a large plume of smoke in my direction. The sensation stung my throat and prohibited my breathing. I have you now boy, said he to me.

  I stood aghast, not knowing what to say or do. Confusion spread through my mind, not just for the mystery of the barrel of alcohol, but also for this sudden change in a man I had once thought my friend and colleague.

  He was about to suck on his pipe once more, which terrified me to my very bones for the ship could blow at any minute. Then along ran a rat. The Captain brought down his boot, crushing the tiny creature’s lower frame. He bent down, scooping the dying creature up in his hand. It whimpered and screamed pathetically and then to my amazement, the Captain put the poor creature out of its misery by biting its head off. He chewed on the rodent all the while blood ran down his unshaven chin. I turned away as the feeling of nausea coursed through my belly.

  You will wait for the Azores, Richardson, said he to me, but I want you to deliver the culprit to my cabin for immediate punishment.

  I dressed and entered the galley. My Kraut friends were worse for wear, but otherwise functioning and eating breakfast. Thank you for the alcohol, said Volkert to me, Gottlieb was a good man.

  You went back down to the hold and finished off the barrel, said I to he. We do not recall so, said he to me, but then we do not recall much of last night.

  I sat down and ate some bread and cheese, there was not much left and what was there was old and stale. What’s more, there was no fresh coffee to be taken. I watched them and thought of what I should do. Volkert tore a chunk from the bread and chewed open mouthed. Boy sliced a wedge from the cheese and did likewise. Arian sat large, strong and capable in his seat, seemingly the least effected from the prior night’s inebriation.

  Arian, said I to he, the Captain would like to see you with haste in his cabin. Volkert made the translation and as he did, I watched a smile appear on the big German’s face.

  10

  November 14th 1872

  I had been too upset to write more of my diary entry yesterday, so I shall pick up today where I left off.

  I had sent Arian to the Captain’s cabin knowing not what was to come of it. He had left with a huge grin etched upon his countenance, but not before thrusting a rolling pin up his sleeve. He then left the galley and Volkert, Boy and myself awaited his return on edge.

  The minutes went by and still Arian did not come back. After an hour I could no longer sit around doing nothing, so I walked on deck where the chill burned through to my bones. Had I sent a man to his death?

  I wanted to barge the Captain’s door down and discover what was happening, but thankfully my common sense prohibited me. This time, whoever ventured in there would go in prepared, and not simply with a rolling pin.

  I conversed with Volkert and Boy, together we accepted that Arian was probably dead.

  We wanted revenge. But just as much, I knew that my own future was in jeopardy, for when we were to dock in the Azores, I knew the Captain would turn me over to the authorities where all that awaited me was a hangman’s noose. This I kept from my two German friends, for my own safety, I preferred that they thought I was one of them and not merely acting out of my own selfish self interests.

  The Captain would have reason to expect us and would doubtless have taken the necessary precautions such as strapping his cutlass to his person, so we would have to strap up likewise. I retrieved my knife and my German friends each brought a hatchet from the workshop.

  I led Volkert and Boy over the bridge, being sure to stay within close proximity to each other. We trod down the stairs and approached the door to the Captain’s cabin. I looked at them both, they were ready. I insisted on going first. I placed my ear to the door but heard nothing. I tried the handle, but it wouldn’t budge. I banged on the door as hard as I could. We waited. I banged again. We waited. I banged again, then finally the door opened.

  There stood Captain Briggs - In his wife’s dress. What do you want, said he to us.

  We demand access to your living space, said I to he as I tried to take in his attire, for it’s time we had a little chat.

  That will not be possible, said he to us, can’t you see I’m busy? And you can rest assured, you will all be placed on a charge when we reach the Azores.

  Perhaps we can persuade you otherwise, said I to he as we revealed the weaponry concealed on our persons.

  Mutiny will decide your fates, said he to us, and it shall be on the end of three lengths of rope.

  Allow us access, said I to he, or else risk us taking the ship and heading straight to Ireland where we shall report you for murder twice over.

  The Captain slammed the door closed, but not before I thrust my leg in the space between the door and wall. I fell backwards, pain shooting through my leg. Volkert and Boy pushed the door but the Captain pushed back. How could the Captain overpower the two Germans? I have no idea, but overpower them he did and all the while, my leg was trapped. I felt the door pressing hard, the agony excruciating. Use the hatchets, yelled I to they. Hack down hard they did, all the while my leg was being crushed.

  I felt teeth bite into my leg and I screamed out with an agony I had never before felt in my life. Hurry, said I to they as the door splintered apart. Volkert smashed the door from its hinge with one final swing of the hatchet. Finally my leg was free, minus a mouth shaped hole where my calf used to be. The Krauts ran inside and I heard a thud followed by the sound of meat being repeatedly chopped by a butcher’s blade.

  I used the door frame to pull myself to my feet and I used the wall to assist my stumbling into the cabin, my leg trailing uselessly behind me.

  What I saw was simply horrific.

  Volkert and Boy were raining down blows with their hatchets onto the Captain, all the while he writhed and wriggled with seeming immunity. I saw with my own eyes Boy bring down the blade into the Captain’s heart and still he tried to rise to attack his tormentors. Volkert was busy concentrating on one area as he hacked down again and again on the Captain’s thigh. I counted nine blows and finally the leg severed. What was strange was that the Captain did not appear to be in any pain. In fact what happened next took us all by surprise.

  You will not get away with this, said he to us as the Captain tried to catch Boy’s hatchet, the blade slicing through his hand, I will inform the relevant authorities about this you
can rest assured.

  It seemed like I was in more pain than the Captain, something I just couldn’t understand. It wasn’t just my leg that hurt, but the pain shot up through my entire body. I used the wall to hold myself up as I watched the terror unfold in front of me. You brought this on yourself, said I to he.

  The three of you shall dance on the end of a rope, said he to us.

  Finally Volkert brought the blade down upon the Captain’s skull and finally he moved no more.

  The three of us surveyed the mess in silence, not knowing quite what to think. What had just happened?

  Volkert and Boy gathered up the parts of the Captain and threw them into the ocean whilst I hobbled about the room searching for evidence of what had happened to our missing friends.

  I opened a closet and out fell a pile of bones. What was most noticeable from the bones were the five skulls amongst them. It didn’t take long to deduce to whom they belonged, but the thought of Cook Head being dead amongst them had come as a sudden shock - I shall miss his Arabian blend.