The Zombie Game (14 page)

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Vodoun Temple

Port-au-Prince, Haiti

Midnight

MY HEART BEGAN TO
pound in my chest. We had less than twenty-four hours to stop the armament, which most likely was a nuke, from being loaded on the
Ana Brigette.
And we were captives of Sanfia and her henchmen, who probably intended to poison us, if not kill us. We had to escape. Now.

As a medical doctor, I didn’t believe in zombies. I suspected Sanfia created her zombies with drugs or poison rather than magical powers.

“What drugs does Sanfia use on the people she makes into zombies?”

“She don’t drug any of them,” Jakjak insisted. “She jess screams and hollers and makes magic. Smoke puffs up, and they’s lights and loud thunderclaps. She don’t give them no poisons at all.”

Keyes chimed in. “Some drugs can be absorbed through the skin. Maybe she doesn’t inject them or give them anything to ingest. Maybe she applies chemicals to their skin, instead.”

I thought for a second. If Sanfia put drugs on their skin, she’d have to place an antidote on her own skin to prevent herself from being harmed. “Tell me, Jakjak, does she ever rub ointments or powders on her skin? Or drink anything as she performs the ceremonies?”

He rubbed his forehead for a second before replying. “
Wi.
They’s a plant she rubs on her hands and arms. She calls it her hand lotion. Then, she puts a fistful of salt in her mouth.”

“Anything else?”

“Emmanuel always throws a big box of white powder all over her before the ceremonies.”

“Where does she get that stuff?”

“They’re here in the temple.” Jakjak pointed to the cabinets holding the spirits jars. “On the bottom shelf.”

Temple? I looked around the one-room edifice, scarcely thirty feet wide and illuminated by four candles. The walls were made of rough-hewn pine slabs, and the floor was packed dirt. The eight-foot ceiling was made of straw and supported by rickety looking two-by-fours that bowed a foot in the middle. In the center of the structure was the small black coffin the girls in white dresses had brought in. Two larger coffins were nearby.

“What kind of temple are we in?” I asked Jakjak.

“This is a Vodoun temple. I worship here whenever I get a night off from
Minis
Duran, usually once every two weeks.”

I was beginning to understand the complexity of the social network of Haiti: a central government that took care of the basic needs of the country but a primitive justice system administered by a group of Vodoun societies like this. Jakjak was right: This was his country, and outsiders like me knew nothing about it. I had no right to judge these people or their culture, but we were in a royal mess, so I had to look at the situation calmly and logically.

I squinted to see in the dim light. There, nailed to the wall over the jars, were drying skins of what looked like large frogs and small fish with spotted bellies. They were puffer fish, like the ones the fisherman in Miragoâne sold for two thousand gourdes apiece. No wonder the old fisherman was so excited about catching those small fish. He sold them to the Vodoun
bokors
to make zombies.

Turning to Keyes, I asked, “Do you know anything about poisons or drugs in puffer fish?”

“Farok flew to Japan once and had me research the puffer fish that his hosts promised to serve him. I learned that tetrodotoxin is a deadly neurotoxin found in certain puffer fish around the world. Some puffer fish here in Haiti carry it. It causes numbness all over the body as well as dizziness, muscle paralysis, respiratory failure, and slowing of the heart rate. It can also cause convulsions and death.”

“Any antidotes?”

“There’s no antidote. But alkaloid substances such as aloe vera and salt can prevent poisoning if they are applied before or shortly after the poison is administered. Once the toxins have been assimilated into the body, though, alkaloid substances are not effective.”

“What about frogs? Are there any toxic species in Haiti?” I asked.

“Yes. The giant toad. It secretes a bufotoxin, the poison used on arrow points in South America to stun fish and animals. Its chemical structure is similar to that of psychedelic psilocin—hallucinogenic mushrooms. Like the puffer fish, there’s nothing to stop the action. Prevention of exposure is the only beneficial action.”

“Then let’s get the plant, salt, and powder that Sanfia uses to block the poisons.”

“
Non, non!
That won’t do no good! You can’t do nothing to stop her!” Jakjak said emphatically. “If she wants to make us zombies, we’ll be zombies. It’s Sanfia’s magic that make zombies, not drugs.”

“But if Sanfia turns us into zombies or kills us, a lot of people will die. Do you want that to happen?”

“
Non
. But only good
Iwa
can save us.”

“You think what you will, Jakjak. I respect that. But I think like a doctor, and I want those items in case we need them. I’ll open a hole in this chicken wire, and you crawl over there and get that stuff. I’d go myself but I don’t know which bottles to grab.”

Jakjak looked down. “
Ou gen move
. You’re wrong. You can’t do anything to reverse Sanfia’s magic, but I’ll do as you say.”

The opportunity soon came. Sanfia stuck her head in the temple and called out. The two men nearest the cage ran to her. The other guards ran to the door and faced the ceremony outside.

I considered making a run for it to escape, but I didn’t want us to get chopped by the machetes. We’d have to wait for a better moment to escape.

I pulled hard at the galvanized chicken fencing, and the welds and part of the wire separated. I rested a second and pulled again. A few more yanks and I’d made a hole big enough for Jakjak to slip through.

Jakjak crawled on his belly to the shelves and returned within a few minutes. He brought back a box of Arm & Hammer baking soda, which is a strong alkali, and a bottle of what looked like sea salt. I tasted it to make sure it was salt. The third item was a thick-leafed plant that I immediately recognized as aloe vera. I stuffed the salt and baking soda in my pockets. Then I broke the thick, brittle aloe leaves into smaller pieces and shoved those into my pockets, too.

Suddenly, the drums were very loud. Six men burst into the room, grabbed the three of us, and dragged us out to the ceremony. The crowd screamed as they carried us to Sanfia, who was her normal five feet tall. Emmanuel stood beside her.

There was a thunderous clap, and the candles all simultaneously extinguished. It was momentarily dark, and then a blinding light flashed. Now, Sanfia towered over seven feet tall. The spectators gasped in awe. Jakjak fell to his knees and prayed aloud.

Sanfia’s body gyrated back and forth as she glared at us with fiery eyes. A beam of light shot from her eyes into Keyes’ and my eyes, momentarily blinding us. Sanfia moved her arms and hands rhythmically back and forth, her index fingers pointing at us. The crowd swooned.

Her eyes still on us, Sanfia shouted, “Jacques Jacobo, stand before me and face your judgment!”

With his head bowed, Jakjak stood and stepped up to Sanfia.

A loud clap from the large drums was followed by twenty seconds of darkness. Then, intensely bright lights flooded the stage, momentarily blinding everyone. When my eyes adapted to the brightness, Sanfia’s height had dropped from seven feet to six feet.

As she spoke, her hands, with their twisted, four-inch nails, moved in circles in front of Jakjak’s face. “Jacques Jacobo, you are a trusted member of this group, a lifelong believer in
Bondye
, God of the universe. Do you wish to continue your fellowship with this society?”

Jakjak’s whole body shook as he faced Sanfia. “Yes.”

“You have brought nonbelievers into our midst. Our society is sacred between us and our God. Do you renounce your allegiance with these two who have sinned against
Bondye
?”

“Yes,
Impératrice
. My life is here with you. Forgive my transgressions.”

There was a thunderclap as she slapped Jakjak, her nails slicing four bleeding grooves in his face.

“Then, go and sin no more!”

Jakjak was stunned at his liberation. In a state of confusion, he stumbled back into the temple and trembled as he watched the continuing spectacle from behind Sanfia’s stage.

Yes, Jakjak is a man of his word, but he has pledged himself to Sanfia and this cult. Keyes and I are definitely alone. And with no one to help us, we are dead.

The judgment against Keyes and me came fast. Sanfia was again only five feet tall, and Emmanuel still stood beside her. The drums ceased their beating, and the spectators quieted as Emmanuel grabbed Keyes and took her to Sanfia’s side.

Sanfia said in a soft but audible voice, “
Bondye
decrees that you,
Blanc Vipèr Erinyes
, be returned to Cap, the ruler of hell.”

Emmanuel suddenly put his arm behind Keyes’ back while he struck the side of her head with a rock. She collapsed in his arms, unconscious. As Sanfia waved her hands in front of Keyes’ face, there was another light flash—but I saw Sanfia’s hand quickly cup the place where Emmanuel had struck Keyes’ head.

Then it was my turn. Emmanuel lifted Keyes and handed her to one of Sanfia’s bodyguards. Then he grabbed my elbow and moved me to stand before Sanfia.

Waving her hands in front of my face, Sanfia said, “
Bondye
decrees that you,
Blanc Serpent Bête Noire
, be committed to Cap and your rightful place in hell.”

I knew what was coming next: Emmanuel would strike my head with the rock, creating an open wound behind my ear, where Sanfia would smear her poisons. Emmanuel was positioned slightly behind me, so I felt rather than saw him move to my left side and put his arm behind me. I turned my head to look at him as his hand swung upward. He struck me, but only with a glancing blow that lightly scraped the skin behind my right ear. Immediately, Sanfia slapped my head with a gooey, oily substance, and I dropped my head and let my body fall back on Emmanuel’s arm, feigning unconsciousness. I felt another of Sanfia’s bodyguards take Emmanuel’s place to hold me up.

The drums beat wildly, and the audience clapped and chanted in unison as they resumed their dance. Through my partly closed eyes, I saw Emmanuel disappear and Sanfia “grow” to seven feet. Her tall body swayed as she joined the chants. The guards took Keyes and me back into the temple and lifted us into the two larger wooden coffins. After covering us with sheets, the guards left to rejoin the meeting.

Using a corner of the sheet, I wiped off the gel. I put a fistful of salt in my mouth and dusted half a box of baking soda on my head wound. Then, I broke a couple stalks of aloe and smeared its clear jelly on the scrape.

I threw the sheet off Keyes. She was unconscious. I lifted her eyelids. Her pupils reacted. But her heart rate had slowed to about fifty, and her breathing was shallow. I pinched her hard, and she moved. That was encouraging. My heart sank as I looked behind her ear and saw the three-inch gash from Emmanuel’s rock. I wiped the goo from her wound. I put the rest of the baking soda on and squeezed on every drop of the aloe from the plants in my pocket. Finally, I put some salt in her mouth. She reflexively swallowed. I put in the rest of the salt as her mouth filled with saliva. After a minute, she swallowed it.

I was beginning to feel drowsy from Sanfia’s poisons, and I fought hard to keep from passing out. My heart beat fast in my chest. I didn’t want to stay there and witness the rest of the zombification process.

I looked at Keyes. We had been through so much together in North Carolina. Although it had been a brief encounter, my emotions were wrapped up in this woman. I couldn’t live with myself if they killed her. I had brought her to Haiti, and I would not leave her.

But how can I get her out of here?

I looked for an escape route. Several hundred people were in front of the temple participating in the ceremony. There were roadways leading to either side of the temple. I cradled Keyes in my arms and was about to sneak quietly out of the temple when I felt a hand grab my arm.

I turned to see the frowning face of Jakjak.
Shit!
I’d made the first move of my escape only to be collared by a former friend turned religious zealot.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Vodoun Temple

Port-au-Prince, Haiti

1:15 a.m.

I LOOKED INTO THE
intense gaze of Jakjak. His tears were gone. He stood tall and confident.

“I have a better idea,” he whispered. “Let’s put her in the ceremonial casket.”

“The one the girls in white carried in?”

“Yes. Then we’ll carry her down the hill to one of Sanfia’s houses she’s not using. You’re a good
doktè
. I believe you can save your lady friend’s life.”

I looked at the man in disbelief. “Whose side are you on, Jakjak? You just promised your allegiance to this Vodoun society. Can I ever trust you again?”

“After being backstage and seein’ all the other tricks Sanfia did—”

“Like seeing her grow on Emmanuel’s shoulders,” I interrupted.

“And the stage lights, her laser-beam eyeglasses, and the rock the
madmwazèl
was hit with.”

I marveled at how a man so ingrained in the culture could so rapidly see the truth, but he hadn’t released himself completely. He saw reason, but he still feared magic.

Jakjak continued. “If the three of us don’t get straight and save
Minis
Duran, he’ll die behind bars. I just figured it out tonight while I watched all this. I love that man more than I love Vodou with all its tricks and lies.”

“Okay. Lead the way.”

Jakjak lifted Keyes’ limp body with ease and took her to the small, black casket. “Open it,” he said.

“What about the body already in there?”

“It’s empty. Sanfia always claimed it was the body of a youth that she’d sacrificed to save the souls of this congregation. But some friends told me she lied.”

Jakjak carried several stones from the back of the temple and placed them in one of the coffins brought there for Keyes and me. I followed his lead and put stones in the second coffin. Jakjak nailed the lids on firmly.

The drums suddenly stopped.

“Move fast,
Doktè
.”

Jakjak threw me a white robe with a hood and put on one himself. He carefully bent Keyes’ knees so she fit in the small casket and put the lid on. He picked up the front end and I lifted the rear, and we stepped out of the hole in the back wall and ran away as fast as we could. Fortunately, we were well ahead of the revelers, who continued to watch Sanfia’s spectacle another thirty minutes before they started moving down the hill toward their homes.

Jakjak tired easily carrying the coffin. We stopped every hundred yards for him to rest. I still felt a little dizzy and had to rest, too. But I was confident I’d escaped the lethality of Sanfia’s poisons. When we were far enough away from the temple, we ripped off the top of the coffin so Keyes could breathe and to lighten our load.

We continued for a couple miles, across one hill and down another. Finally, we reached another earthquake-damaged house.

Sanfia’s Vacant Safe House

Port-au-Prince, Haiti

3:21 a.m.

“Sanfia hasn’t used this place for the past six weeks. We’ll be safe here.”

There was one cot in the half-collapsed house. I laid Keyes on it. I felt her pulse; it was still slow from the poisons. I looked at the sluggish movements of her pupils and pinched her again. She was still unconscious, but it was difficult to tell whether it was from the blow to her head or the drugs.

Jakjak had also been observing Sanfia when she put the strange ointment on Keyes.

While I tended to Keyes, Jakjak left the house to search for food and bottled water. He soon returned with five cans of Coke, a quart of clairin, and half a loaf of bread.

Keyes needed fluids most of all to dilute the poisons. I felt the underlying bone behind her ear to make certain there wasn’t a depression or crack in the skull. Then, I poured clairin over the open head wound. She grimaced but didn’t awaken. I sat her up and dripped Coke in her mouth. She swallowed slowly. I fed her small bits of bread dipped in the Coke. The bread would both soak up any poisons in her stomach and deliver the strong alkali.

When I finished, I kissed her lips.

Sanfia’s Vacant Safe House

Port-au-Prince, Haiti

6:05 a.m.

I had fallen asleep but was awakened by Keyes’ movements and went to her. Her eyes were open, but she didn’t respond to my questions.

Behind me, Jakjak said, “I hope she not wake up a zombie.”

I had the same fear. About ten minutes had passed before I’d given her the antidote, and the wound was large enough to have absorbed some of Sanfia’s zombie potions.

But we needed to move on. We had to get to Saint-Marc before the bombs were transferred to the
Ana Brigette.
With what we now knew, the target was Atlanta, the Pope, and the thousands of people who would gather there, for Mass, Saturday morning.

“Jakjak, is there anyone to help us at Saint-Marc this evening?”

His eyes filled with fear as he shook his head. “
Doktè
, everybody knows Sanfia. If we ask them to help us, she’ll find out and finish makin’ us zombies.”

“How about Benoit?”

“Maybe. He likes you. And when he fixes on somebody, he do anything they ask.”

“Are there others like him who might be of help? Sanfia said he leads the other men.”

“Benoit lives and works with about twelve men. He’s the crew leader. It might work. We jes have to take him without Sanfia or Emmanuel knowin’.”

“Can you get a truck that’ll carry all of us?”

“I wouldn’t try to take Sanfia’s trucks, but they’s plenty of ’em owned by the highway department.”

“Judging from the conditions of roads in these parts, I’ll bet few of them are ever out repairing roads.”

Jakjak laughed. “
Wi, Doktè,
nobody will miss them.”

Keyes coughed, and I turned to her. She took three swallows of Coke and went back to sleep. I checked her pulse; it was up to seventy.

Thank God, she was improving! But had the zombie poison killed significant parts of her brain?
I dreaded the possibility of her having brain damage.

Sanfia’s Vacant Safe House

Port-au-Prince, Haiti

8:59 a.m.

Jakjak returned with a large, barely used cargo van with the Port-au-Prince Highway Department logo on the doors. “They knew me. Told ’em it was for
Minis
Duran. It’s ours for three days.”

“What about Benoit?” I asked.

“We’re in luck. Benoit and all his men worked all night helpin’ Sanfia and diggin’ the two graves—one for you and one for your missus. They won’t know you escaped until Sanfia digs up the bodies tomorrow.”

I high-fived him.

“And better’n that, they’s supposed to be sleepin’ cause they worked all night. Nobody will know we got ’em.”

“Then let’s hit the road.”

Jakjak got behind the wheel. I laid Keyes between us on the front seat with her head on my lap. She still hadn’t awakened. I was worried about permanent brain damage and her becoming another Benoit, but we had to intercept the bombs.

Makeshift Landing Strip

Saint-Marc, Haiti

9:00 a.m.

Farok sat in a Mercedes by an isolated, brush-covered field, five miles from town. An old concrete road crossed the field. The concrete was so badly broken up that the road was unusable, except for a mile-long section that showed evidence of recent repairs. Although the car was air-conditioned, Farok’s face and body were covered with sweat. He kept looking to the sky and wringing his hands until he saw an aircraft approaching.

Looking at his watch and then upward, he said,
“Allahu Akbar.”

The Piaggio Avanti circled once and then landed on the old road. As the Mercedes motored onto the road and toward the plane, a bodyguard wiped the sweat from Farok’s brow. Following behind the Mercedes was a two-and-a-half-ton military truck.

When the pilot opened the cockpit door, Farok yelled. “What took you so long? I needed this merchandise hours ago!”

The pilot shrugged. “Sorry, sir. I flew at maximum speed and altitude. It’s a long way to Aleppo.”

Farok looked at his watch again and shook his finger at the man. “I’ll have your life if you don’t get that last package to Saint Kitts on time.”

Farok’s men quickly loaded one of the crates on the truck. Then the Piaggio made a fast take-off.

Farok got in the Mercedes. One of his men wiped the sweat from his face and hands as another poured him a glass of Scotch. A faint smile had replaced his frown.

He took a sip and let out his breath.

“All the pieces of my plan are finally in place. After four long months of planning, everything is complete and operational,” he congratulated himself. “The mission will be perfect. In exactly seventeen and a half hours, the US Devil of the Universe will bow at my feet.”