Far Horizons: Tales of Sci-Fi, Fantasy and Horror. Issue #19 October 2015 | Page 16

didn’t interested in any jewels. They pulled dead bodies from the vessel to the sand, lining them in rows.

He didn’t trust the new girl. She wasn’t one of
his people. How could they ever relate to each other?
For all he knew, she was working for the French. She
could be working for the Spaniards, or even the Americans, playing dumb in some attempt to lull his people
back into chains. How long would it be before another
ship came, and then another, ready to take them all
back?

A mysterious man overlooked the sailors’
work. He wore a long, silk robe with a hood.
The zombies drew closer. They growled, filled
with an intense hunger.
One of the sailors noticed the approaching
dead men and yelled, pointing at them.

Never. Jacque would never go back.
A growl echoed from the darkness.

The hooded man didn’t flinch.

Jacque turned to see one of the familiar zombie
baring its teeth at him.

All of the other sailors stopped in their tracks.
Reaching under his cloak, the hooded man
pulled out a long silver flute. He placed the instrument
to his lips, blowing into it.

“Stupid thing!” Jacque shouted in fiery French.
”Christine! Get your stupid beast!”
But Jacque was too far from the camp to gain
Christine’s attention. He knew that. Still, the zombie
would never attack him... would it?

The living sailors heard nothing. The music
was too high pitched for their ears, but the zombies
were transfixed by it. They looked with intrigue at the
instrument, falling under its spell.

Another growl sounded. Jacque turned to see a
second undead human beast baring its teeth.

“It’s working!” a sailor exclaimed.

“What’s gotten into you idiots?” Jacque was
scared now, his French wavering on his mouth. He
stepped back, his hands held out as he bent down,
instinctively feeling for a switch, or a rock, or something-

As the tune continued, one of the dead bodies
retrieved from the abandoned pirate ship began to stir.
Many more followed it, waking from a sound sleep.
“Of course it’s working,” another sailor spoke
harshly. “The man’s the greatest necromancer in the
colonies.”

A zombie leaped from the left, biting into Jacque’s shoulder.

***
Jacque walked away from the camp. Angry
thoughts swarmed through his mind like disturbed
wasps.

him.

How could Christine allow a stranger into their
camp? They couldn’t trust anyone. They had escaped
a place where they had been treated like dirt, forced to
work in rice fields and plantations. How many times
had they been beaten and whipped, only to allow some
outsider into their private refuge?

Jacque screamed as the zombie surrounded

The hooded man with the silver flute walked
up the trail behind the zombie, still playing the strange
instrument. His fellow sailors accompanied him at his
side.
“Remember not to eat him, or anyone else
for that matter,” the hooded musician reminded the
undead cronies in a Southern English dialect. “He’ll
serve well along with the rest of you.”

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