Way of the Barefoot Zombie

by Jasper Bark

  The idyll was broken when Brigitte was visited by the spirit of her ancestor who told her of the curse he'd placed on her lover's family. A curse that she was expected to fulfill.

  Brigitte sought to break the curse through love. She went against the wills of both their ancestors and the Loa, and everyone she ever loved had paid the price.

  Brigitte hadn't mentioned the magical artefact that her ancestor had entrusted to her however. This was secret. Even when her lover had tricked and captured her she hadn't revealed where it was, desperate as her lover was to know. She would dearly have loved to confide this in Miriam though, for the burden of the artefact weighed heavily on Brigitte's soul.

  When Brigitte spoke of the horrors of her escape, the truth of it finally came home to Miriam. Brigitte told how she had been buried alive by her lover, who had started calling himself Doc Papa.

  She described how, as the air in the coffin ran out, she had sent her soul out of her body and taken over one of the Zombies. A strong young man who was also her second cousin. Inside the young man's walking corpse she had given her captors the slip and sought out her grave. With less than an hour left to live she had dug up the earth of the grave with the young man's dead hands. As she dug she had also neutralised the wards and spells Doc Papa had placed upon the grave.

  When she was finally free Brigitte's soul returned to her body and she sent the young Zombie back to join the others so his absence wouldn't be spotted. Then she replaced all the earth and reset the spells so Doc Papa wouldn't realise she was gone.

  She stole away from the island in an abandoned fishing boat and made her way to Haiti. From there she eventually found her way to the US. No matter how far she traveled she couldn't shake her guilt. Guilt for escaping while the rest of her community still suffered and guilt for having brought that suffering on them.

  Miriam's bedside became a private space of absolution for both of them. Between the endless stream of specialists examining Miriam, she and Brigitte became the confessors each of them so badly needed. The bond of trust between them became so strong that Miriam finally felt able to ask Brigitte for the help of the Loa.

  In the dead of night they held a rite. Brigitte called upon the Loa and Ayida Wédo mounted her. Brigitte lost all consciousness as the Ayida Wédo took over her body. When she came around Miriam was in tears.

  She recounted her vision to Brigitte. Miriam said the Virgin Mary had visited and spoken to her through Brigitte. She'd told Miriam that God had a plan for her and that there was a place for her in heaven, with her father and her aunt. They had visited too and had told her she would soon be with them in her eternal reward.

  The Virgin Mary had told Miriam there was a way to relieve her suffering and to save the people of Brigitte's island. Brigitte had to use the rites known to her as a Voodoo priestess to help Miriam's soul leave its dying body and make its way to heaven before the illness claimed her. With her soul gone the illness would lose its hold on her.

  Miriam's body would then become a living vessel for Brigitte's soul. She could send it out of her body and into Miriam's as she'd done when she possessed the young male Zombie. This would allow Brigitte to pose as Miriam.

  Brigitte could return to St Ignatius using Miriam's identity. Miriam would put her half of Oliver's fortune at Brigitte's disposal so she could buy her way onto the course and pretend to be one of Doc Papa's students. No-one would recognise her so she would be free to infiltrate Doc Papa's organisation and save her people.

  Brigitte did not know what to say. She recognised Ayida Wédo's hand in the plan. The Loa had appeared to Miriam in her aspect as Our Lady of the Immaculate Conception. Nevertheless, Brigitte was over-awed by the generosity and bravery Miriam showed in offering to do this for her and her people.

  She reached out and put her arms round Miriam and the two of them wept on the hospital bed. Tears of grief mingled with joy. Grief for everything they had lost in their lives and joy for the blessings they could bring one another. They wept with gratitude for having found a sister in each other. For the joy that sisterhood brought and the grief it would mean when they parted.

  Brigitte had then left Miriam's side for the first time in weeks so Miriam could tell Oliver about her plans. Oliver was not pleased to begin with. When he saw how much it meant to Miriam, though, he began to come round. Miriam finally won him over when she explained how it would allow her to give him the one thing they'd always wanted.

  Brigitte gazed out of the limousine's window at the ornate Victorian houses of the Garden District, with their perfect lawns and wrought-iron fences. Her mind was still in the past, reliving her last days with Miriam.

  "You've been quiet for a long time," said Oliver. "What are you thinking about?"

  "Miriam," said Brigitte. "How much I'm going to miss her. How grateful I am to you and her, for everything you've done."

  Oliver took her hands in his. "I'm grateful to you too. Watching Miriam lying there in that bed, dying a little more each day, felt like a part of me was dying with her. The part of me that could be happy and feel hope and enjoy life. I thought that would go forever when she went. But you're giving me something to live for again and I can't thank you enough."

  Brigitte smiled a sad smile and squeezed Oliver's hands. They pulled past a mansion as Brigitte recalled the last time Oliver had said that to her.

  It was just before the final ceremony. Oliver had taken her hands just he did in the car and thanked her. They were standing on the second storey landing outside the master bedroom. There were tears streaming down his cheeks. He had just said goodbye to his wife. Miriam had returned to the mansion. She wanted to spend her last earthly hours in the comfort and privacy of her home.

  Brigitte had called on certain special traders down on South Rampart Street to buy the materials she needed for the ceremony. The room had been prepared in accordance with the Loa's wishes. Oliver left them alone.

  The full ceremony took over two days to complete. There were so many gates Brigitte had to open to the afterlife. So many Loa had to be called on to ensure the safe passage of Miriam's soul and the health of her body when Brigitte entered it. Brigitte couldn't afford to let her concentration lapse for a second. Her life and Miriam's soul depended on it.

  Finally, Brigitte opened Miriam's eyes and looked out of them for the first time. She saw her old body sitting in a chair next to the bed. She called Oliver back in. They placed Brigitte's old body on the bed and called the undertaker and a priest. Then they set about planning Brigitte's funeral. A funeral that only they knew was secretly to honour Miriam.

  "I don't know about you, but I need a drink," said Oliver as Brigitte sank into a leather sofa in the library back at the mansion. "Here take a look at this." He threw her a brochure for an exclusive hotel in the Maldives while he fixed them both a drink.

  "What's this?"

  "It's where we're going on vacation next week. I just ordered the tickets."

  "And you didn't think to ask me?"

  "I thought we needed a break. Don't you like the Maldives?"

  "It would have been nice if you'd asked me whether I wanted to go before you booked the tickets."

  Oliver sighed and looked at the floor. "Okay, there's going to be difficulties with this that I didn't foresee." He took a slug of his drink and handed Brigitte hers. "Miriam used to like it when I took charge. She liked surprises too, so I'd tend to spring things on her. I'm a take charge kind of a guy and I like to move quickly. You have to be that way when you manage a large portfolio of investments. That's how I manage things and that's how I manage people."

  "I'm not one of the people you manage."

  "You're right," Oliver said, changing his tone. "Would you like to come away with me to the Maldives? You've been through a lot. We both have. I think the break would do us both some good."

  Miriam flicked through the glossy brochure. The rooms were immense, the facilities incredible. It reeked of a luxury that made Brigitte uncomfortable.


  "I don't know if I could relax in a place like this while so many people here are still homeless. While the people from my island are still suffering."

  "You're suffering from too much guilt," said Oliver. "You still have survivor's guilt and you're adding new wealth guilt to that. It's natural to feel that way for a while but you have to come to terms with it or it wears you down and depresses you."

  "How can you come to terms with it? How can you live like this when so many other people live in poverty?"

  "By helping those people. By using the wealth and the talents I've been blessed with to tackle some of the problems they're facing."

  "I thought rich people and their greed were the main problem the poor are facing."

  "There's nothing wrong with being rich Brigitte, any more than being poor. Rich people don't necessarily create poor ones. "

  "If there were less rich people there'd be less poor."

  "There's always going to be rich people though. I'm totally in favour of equal opportunities for everyone. But not everyone is equal. That's the way the world is. Some people are just smarter than others or more driven. Some people can jump higher, run faster or draw better than most other people. It's only fair they should be rewarded for this. Any system that punishes them and stifles their talent isn't creating equality. It's just denying the world the benefit of those talents and the wealth they could have created. Being rich doesn't mean you have to be a bad person."

  "No, but most rich people are. That's why they turn innocent people into monsters so they can learn to become worse monsters themselves."

  "And most black people are poor, but that doesn't mean that every black person has to be poor and it doesn't mean every rich person has to be bad. I'm living proof of both those assertions. You don't have to brutalise and exploit other people in order to get rich. Even if some people do get rich that way - a lot of people don't. Their brutality and exploitation can be their undoing. It's not the only way to make or use a fortune. But come, I don't want to argue on a night like this."

  "I don't know," said Brigitte, uncrossing her legs. "I find it quite stimulating."

  "Good, finish your drink."

  Oliver put his hand on her thigh and her heart beat faster. She felt a jolt of nervous anticipation and a deep yearning her new body had been waiting a long time to unleash. Did the passion belong entirely to Miriam's body? A body that knew Oliver's so well. If it didn't, was it wrong of Brigitte to desire him?

  Oliver led her to the master bedroom. She found she rather liked him being masterful in this instance. Oliver put his arm round her waist and pulled her to him. She could smell his aftershave and the fresh sweat breaking on his skin. His scent was as familiar as it was exciting and new to her.

  He ran his hand over her breast. Brigitte flinched and stepped back from him.

  "I'm sorry," Oliver said. "Miriam used to really like that."

  "And so do I. But this is the first time I've done this with you. I need you to go a little slower."

  "I'm sorry, of course you do."

  Brigitte suddenly became aware of a warm golden light at the foot of the bed they were standing by. She turned her head to look at the source.

  "What's the matter?" said Oliver. "Did I do something else wrong?"

  "No, it's Miriam. She's with us. She's come to say her final goodbye."

  "She's not mad at us is she?"

  "No, she's happy. She's here to give us her blessing."

  Brigitte could feel Miriam's happiness coming off her in waves and radiating through the room. She fancied even Oliver could feel it.

  Miriam was overjoyed that she and Oliver would soon have what they'd always wanted from their marriage. A child.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Doc Papa thrived on crisis management. It was a circumstance to which his temperament and skill set were best suited. He always did best in those situations where other, weaker types failed.

  That's why he wasn't the least bit fazed when Truffet and the rest of the shareholders stormed into his office on the top floor of the mansion.

  "Just what the fuck is going on around here?" Lyon's growled in his deep southern drawl. He'd made his fortune selling arms and ammunition to the domestic market and liked to portray himself as an old time gunslinger. At only five foot five with balding ginger hair, he didn't cut too imposing a figure however.

  "One minute I'm getting blown in a hot tub. The next I'm lying on the floor and someone's giving me CPR," Lyons said. "Apparently, practically everyone on the island was knocked unconscious. If that Thai hooker hadn't dragged me out of the tub I would've drowned."

  "There are some distressing rumours going around," Truffet said. He peered down at Doc Papa through his horn-rimmed spectacles. "I understand that our two biggest assets have been stolen."

  "The assets are perfectly safe," said Doc Papa. "Someone did try to get the undead off the island but I dealt with the problem and my men are currently rounding them up."

  "Someone, who?" said Lyons.

  Doc Papa smiled. "A pitiful, little collection of wannabe terrorists calling themselves the Zombie Liberation Front."

  The shareholders laughed with disbelief.

  "Just when you think you've heard of every nut-job," said Simons.

  "What about the soul bank?" said Frank Evans.

  "All the Pot-tets are still in the soul bank and the area has been secured," said Doc Papa. "Everything is under control."

  "So why do I feel so cold inside?" said Evans. "Why am I losing the feeling in my hands and feet? Why is my heart beating slower and slower?"

  "The soul bank has been sabotaged," said Doc Papa. "As I said, all the Pot-tets are in our possession, but their seals have been corrupted."

  "What does that mean?" barked Lyons.

  "The souls are no longer fixed in their Pot-tets. The spells surrounding the containers have been reversed and the souls are slowly leaking out."

  "Does that include our souls?"

  "Yes it does. The unconsciousness that you all experienced was a side effect of this. When the spells were reversed this sent a psychic shockwave across the island."

  "Who did this and why?" said O'Shaugnessy.

  "I believe it was one of the current crop of guests. A lady calling herself Miriam Chavalier."

  "One of the guests," said Lyon. "How the fuck did she manage that?"

  "Apparently she knows Voodoo. A fact our extensive background check failed to turn up. I believe she did it in order to create a diversion so she could escape from the Ounfó with the Zombies."

  "I thought you said your men were rounding the Zombies up," said O'Shaugnessy. "Now you're saying they've escaped. Do you have the Zombies or not?"

  "It is merely a matter of time."

  "Never mind about the Zombies," said Evans. "What about our souls? What's going to happen to them? What's going to happen to us?"

  "Without the correct vessel to hold them the souls will slowly fade out of existence. They are denied access to the afterlife and they can't remain intact unless they have something to house them."

  "Can't you just put them back inside us?" said Lyons.

  "I'm afraid the stars aren't in the right alignment to return the souls to their bodies. I can't perform that ceremony for a while."

  "What does that mean to us?" said O'Shaugnessy. "If you can't put them back in us, what's going to happen?"

  "The worst case scenario is that as your Gros Bon Ange, the part of your soul that's in the Pot-tet, slowly withers away, your Ti Bon Ange, the soul that's still with you, will also go. This will mean that your intelligence will disappear along with all vital signs of life and you'll become a Zombie."

  Evans banged his fist on the desk. His craggy face was even redder than usual. "God damn it! Do you mean to tell me that we're all going to become Zombies because you can't organise proper fucking security?"

  "No. That isn't what I mean to tell you at all." Doc Papa leaned back in his chair and smiled. His
movements were precise and controlled. "You are all going to be fine. I have allowed for just such a contingency." He pressed the button on his intercom. "You can come in now."

  The door opened and Palmer and Vincenzo entered. Palmer was carrying a briefcase which he handed to Doc Papa. Doc Papa opened the briefcase and showed the contents to the shareholders.

  On a velvet cushion were five talismans carved in ivory and stained with blood. "These gentlemen are Bakas," said Doc Papa. "I think you'll remember them from the ceremony I performed. They're special talismans that hold your souls to the earthly plane. They are also beacons that light the way for your soul. You have but to place them on a suitable vessel and your soul will make its new home there."

  "What suitable vessel," said O'Shaugnessy. "I thought you said all the Pot-tets were corrupted."

  "They are," said Doc Papa. "But they aren't the only vessel in which a dispossessed soul can live. A Zombie is a perfect vessel for just such a soul, because they're nothing more than human bodies with no soul or intellect. All the guests will be issued with their Bakas and a Zombie will be provided as soon as they are back in our custody."

  "Why can't you just use the Baka's to put our souls back in our own bodies? Why do we have to stick it in some walking corpse?"

  "While your soul is in your body it has the opportunity to move on to the afterlife. The Baka is designed to hold the soul to this plane of existence, so it can't transfer the soul into anything living that will allow the soul to move on. Don't worry, your soul will be completely safe in the Zombie we find for it."

  "Fuck that," said Lyons. "I'm not waiting around for you to round up some Zombies while my life is on the line!"

  "You won't have to wait around. In fact Palmer has five beautiful little Zombies all tied up and waiting to house your souls right here in the centre."