Authors: Samantha Leal
Captain Marcos knew the woman was in the hut, but she could wait. His men formed a semi-circle around the fallen priest. Marcos was amazed to realize that he was still alive. Despite three gunshot wounds the priest slowly climbed to his feet. The captain was impressed; if Talin wanted to die on his feet he would accommodate him. It was clear he was finished as his life blood leaked out of him in steady streams.
The captain saw the ritual sword lying amid the sea of broken pottery and smiled. He picked it up, testing its balance for a moment. He glanced at Sergeant Chavez who nodded in approval. Captain Marcos raised the sword and swung with all his might.
Talin's eyes widened as the blade sliced through his neck, cleanly decapitating him.
Cass stared in horror as Talin's headless body tumbled backwards. She hid her head as it appeared it would land directly in the roaring bonfire. She could not bear to watch. Her hand found something in the darkness and clutched it tightly.
The captain held up Talin's head, displaying it to his men. "My brother asked for proof, so we will bring him a trophy!"
The men applauded nervously.
Cass' fingers tightened around the handle of a machete. There was no conscious thought, no plan of attack… only burning rage. Her legs launched her forward like an Olympian.
Sergeant Chavez saw the naked woman wielding a machete race out of the hut howling like a banshee. He rushed to stop her, but it was too late. The screaming woman buried the machete in the captain's chest just as Chavez tackled her. They tumbled to the ground, and it took every ounce of his strength to pin down her arms. Captain Marcos slowly crumpled to the dirt, the priest's head still tightly clutched in his hands. Every soldier raised his rifle, ready to kill Cass.
"No!" the sergeant screamed, realizing he was directly in the line of fire, and that regardless, the Colonel would undoubtedly want her brought to him alive. As he looked at the dead captain the further repercussions of what had happened came to him. "You two, grab her," he shouted to the men.
Two soldiers rushed forward pulling Cass to her feet. Chavez slapped her with all his strength, and then addressed his men.
"Do you idiots realize what has happened? The colonel's brother was killed on our watch! Do you understand what will happen to us? Remember that shack behind the sugar plantation where we brought prisoners to the colonel? Remember hearing the screams that went on for days as he tortured them? Well that is what will happen to us!"
The men stared at him in silence, remembering the tortured screams all to well.
Chavez looked at Cass for a moment, formulating a plan, "She knows the priest's spells," He reached down and picked up the ancient book, "Voodoo priests can bring back the dead, my father saw it happen. This woman studied under Talin and knows his magic. She can surely bring the captain back to life."
The men looked at him nervously until one finally spoke, "He’ll be nothing but a zombie!"
Chavez shrugged, "Maybe or maybe not…but he will be alive, which is all we need right now.
Besides, even if he did return as a zombie, who would notice? The captain was a renowned imbecile, after all.
The men forced Cass down to her knees as Chavez grabbed her by the chin to turn her face up towards him, "You will bring him back."
Cass looked at him defiantly, "Too bad I'm only a bartender! But I'd be happy to make you a Mojito you fucking maniac!"
Chavez slapped her hard across the face. He gestured for the men to release her, as he dropped the book in front of her. "
You will
find the right spell and
you will
bring him back."
Cass reconsidered her options. Defiance is the worst tactic to take in this situation. She just couldn’t stop herself before. She was reeling. She had to get her head in the game. She knew that when captured the best plan was to cooperate and bide your time until you could escape. She thumbed through the ancient text. It was in a forgotten language, all symbols and sketches. She closed her eyes for a moment, praying for some guidance.
Then she heard the familiar voice in her head. "I will guide you," said the spirit Litha, "Have faith. Remember we are in your debt." Cass opened her eyes and looked at the page. The text was now in western letters. She didn't know what the words meant, but that wasn't important. Her lips moved, but it was Litha's voice that rang out.
Chavez fidgeted nervously as the white woman spoke in some unknown tongue, her voice growing louder with each sentence. The strange lights he'd seen earlier whirled above them. He glanced at his men. "Everyone stay calm. If anybody raises a weapon I'll kill them myself."
Cass' heart rose as the strange words tumbled from her lips, rising to a screaming crescendo, and then… silence. The mysterious lights faded away with her words. The soldiers just stood there, unsure of what to do. Chavez knelt down by the captain's body and examined it. He was still dead.
He glared at Cass, "You've failed. Now we are all dead. Kill her."
Five weapons were raised and cocked as one.
Then the captain’s body stirred, gasping for air.
"Wait!" Chavez yelled, cradling the captain's head in his arms. "Captain, you’re alive, it's a miracle!" he rejoiced.
The captain’s eyes popped open in a burst, and he stared at Chavez for a moment. Chavez pulled his head even closer to his own chest, relieved beyond measure. Then, in an instant, the captain twisted his head, biting down on Chavez's hand, severing three fingers in the act.
"Shoot him!" The sergeant screamed, clutching his partially eaten hand.
The men looked on in confusion. Even though the captain had become a flesh-eating monster… he still outranked Sergeant Chavez.
From where she was standing ten feet away, Cass muttered the only words her terrified mind could process, "Holy shit!"
They all watched the captain spastically trying to stand up. Then a shriek pierced the stillness of the jungle, followed by another until a cacophony of agonized screams echoed through the night. All eyes turned to the ancient cemetery. A headstone toppled over, then another. A mausoleum burst open. Figures appeared in the moonlight, staggering at first but slowly gaining their balance, moving towards their position.
Cass began crawling away from the group. The soldiers were far too distracted by the apparently walking dead to even notice.
One of the men raised his AK-47 and fired into the oncoming mass. The resurrected bodies lurched from the impact, and then just continued toward them, perhaps even faster. The first wave or rotting bodies was on them then and leapt onto the soldiers, grabbing and biting ferociously. Cass saw three descend on Chavez, tearing him literally limb from limb.
A corporal tried to rally the men, "Shoot them in the head, I saw it on television!" He fired a burst directly into the face of an oncoming zombie. The bullets did exactly nothing to stop the oncoming ghoul. "Fucking movies!" The soldier screamed as the zombie sank its teeth into his neck.
Cass continued crawling until a weak, almost whispered voice stopped her.
"Cass," it said, "It's me".
Cass crawled toward the voice and froze. It was Talin's decapitated head struggling to speak. "I can help you." He whispered, only communicating with great effort.
"By this point she was almost lost the ability to be shocked. Somehow accepting that he was speaking at all, all she could do was ask, “But why aren't you a zombie?"
"The spirit protected my soul. Now pick me up and go to the hut."
"But those things are everywhere!"
"Trust me," He said. Wow, she thought, I don’t even want to think about the PTSD this is gonna bring on.
Cass scooped up Talin's head and staggered into the hut, slamming the flimsy door behind her. Automatic weapons fire and screams filled the air outside. Through the small window she saw a soldier dragged to the ground by a zombie tearing at his throat. Moments later the soldier rose again, this time pouncing on one of his comrades.
"Jesus, anyone who dies comes back as a zombie! At least the movies got that part right. So what do we do now?" Cass asked, fighting to maintain her sanity.
"That wicker basket is full of salt. Make a circle of it on the ground."
She groped around and found the basket. Grabbing handfuls of salt she formed a circle around the two of them. Some of the zombies bashed at the hut's flimsy door while others were reaching through the small window. The zombie's had their first meal surrounded.
"Ok I got it!" Cass yelled, completing an imperfect circle around them.
Talin invoked a voodoo spell in the ancient tongue. Cass's heart was racing. The door shook under the pounding fists, finally collapsing. Three zombies burst into the hut. Talin continued the spell as the zombie's locked hungry eyes on Cass.
"Done," Talin whispered, "Do not leave the circle."
The zombie's paused, staring in Cass' direction, but ignoring her as if she were invisible. Clutching Talin's head to her chest Cass watched the zombie's mill around the tiny room. Finding nothing to sate their hunger they turned and shuffled off.
Outside the screaming gave way to an eerie silence. Without leaving the magic circle Cass stood and peered out the window. She was relieved to see the zombies walking into the jungle. She sank back to the floor. Talin’s mouth looked dry and so Cass searched until she found a bottle of water. What the fuck was going on! This was beyond insane.
"They're leaving," She said, dabbing water onto Talin's lips. The thought crossed her mind that this wasn’t going to do much for his overall situation, but it was about she could duo for him now.
"I think they are looking for an easier meal – or whatever it is they are after, elsewhere."
"What the hell is happening? And oh my poor Talin! Look what they have done to you!” she cried to his upturned face.
Talin closed his eyes for a moment. "When Litha took control of you and cast that spell, it must have been so powerful as to raise all these dead souls, including mine. It is the strength of my spirit, and the support of those spirits I have served that is allowing me to come to you as the man you know, rather than as a zombie like the rest.”
"Yes, but look at you! And how could she allow all this to happen?"
"Well, metaphysically speaking, Litha is known for her deep passions…she is not a spirit to be crossed…so I would say it was no accident. You get on the wrong side of her and she can be one mean spirited bitch, if you’ll pardon the pun."
"How powerful was that spell then? I mean, did it affect just this cemetery, or the island?"
"I do not know," Talin replied, "All I know is that for the moment you are safe."
"But what about the resort? It is not that far with all the noise I’m betting those things will find them. And what about your body? Can’t we reattach you or something?"
"I imagine you are correct about the resort and perhaps something can be done with my body, but time is short. We can either try and save those people or see what can be done about my body."
"Well we have to do something to help him. We can deal with your body later." Cass said, "We have to help them."
"I was afraid you would say that."
The
aging local bus pulled to a stop just outside the resort's fence line. The driver studied his watch, and, at exactly the appointed moment, opened the passenger door. The load of peasants filed out silently. They were actually the Colonel's personal troops in disguise. Each man was well trained, totally loyal and armed to the teeth. They carefully made their way through the brush. Within minutes they were in position… waiting for the order to be given.
Inside the resort the Prime Minister was addressing the assembled guests. The audience did their best to feign interest, eager to get back to their drugs and debauchery. Colonel Marcos discreetly checked his watch. He would only have to endure two more minutes of this pointless speech before his plan sprang into action. The Prime Minister droned on about the economic opportunities created by the resort and how it would benefit the people. The Colonel knew all the construction was done by the Prime Minister's own company at reduced wages to workers and a huge markup to the client… so much for benefitting the people.
He glanced at Novia who looked exquisite, the elegant gown complementing her natural beauty. She was standing next to the island's first lady, an aging shrew waging an unsuccessful war against the ravages of time. The Colonel wondered how much of Tortura's national treasury was squandered on the first lady's breasts, ass, and lips? The speech mercifully ended, earning polite applause from the still captive audience. They quieted, hoping they could now get back to their debauchery.
In that instant, gunfire shattered the peaceful evening. Caught unprepared, the Prime Minister's personal guards were cut down within seconds. Panic-stricken tourists stampeded in every direction as indiscriminant AK-47 fire thinned the herd of party seekers.
The chaos provided a perfect distraction for his moment. Drawing his sidearm the Colonel confronted the Prime Minister, "As of this moment you will step down, officially surrendering control of the government to me."
The shocked Prime Minister remained defiant, "I will never grant you control of the island."
"If you do not surrender, your wife will be the first to die."
The Prime Minster glared at the Colonel, "You wouldn't dare!"
"No… I wouldn't," Colonel Marcos replied with a smile.
“But I would.” Novia drew a petite chrome plated .38 automatic from her Chanel handbag and casually fired a shot into each of the first lady's silicone enhanced tits. The grief stricken Prime Minster stared down at his wife's body.
"Don't blame yourself," The colonel said, "We were planning to kill you both anyway," and with that he put a man-sized bullet through the Prime Minister's head.
Novia looked on in awe as the Colonel shouted orders to his men. In her eyes he was like Alexander the Great and Caesar combined. Their carefully conceived plan was finally coming together. The Colonel's soldiers had not worn uniforms so the attack could more easily be blamed on "rebel factions" working against the government. The attackers would demand a ransom from the United States government for the surviving tourists. But Colonel Marcos would bravely step in, negotiating the American's release while putting down the rebellion. In the fog of war the press would declare him a hero and the United Nations would agree to him becoming the island's interim ruler as well. In this case "interim" would mean for life. The citizens wouldn't protest because the Colonel's men were already executing potential troublemakers.
The Colonel's men moved forward now in squads. They had orders to avoid excess gunfire but a scream from the nearby Jacuzzi alarmed one soldier. He turned, emptying his magazine into a pack of naked bodies. Two soldiers raced to the Jacuzzi, to check for survivors, and more importantly thick wallets and expensive watches. It looked like total slaughter until Fawn popped out from under two floating bodies.
"Please don't shoot me," She screamed.
The soldiers smiled. They had been ordered to hold themselves to the highest moral standards, but that, of course, was open to interpretation. Pulling the squealing girl from the water, a couple of them began to drag her around the corner for some privacy.