Blood Ties (Dont Dare Call Them Zombies Book 4)
He looked dangerous and nasty. He began to recite in a very strange English accent, so different from the precise, predictable language Miss Atwell taught the kids at school. Papa explained that his strange accent came from what must certainly have been his native language, Creole, that mixture of French and African languages spoken in Haiti and the other French islands of the Caribbean.
He also told them that the emcee was tossing in many arbitrary elements of the voodoo religion. The end is the beginning, the beginning is the end. I am the servant of the Serpent. I am the servant of Damballah. It was odd to hear those words coming from the lips of such an ordinarily-dressed man. Or body paint. But then he began to realize that the Baron was more frightening in a suit and tie—it was scarier than a costume. I am a servant of the Invisible Ones, but others serve me.
My slaves, my zombies, I summon you: Bring your drums and come here. Two men and a woman appeared onstage, carrying two small drums and another that was so large it had to be pushed along. The men moved slowly. There was something very strange in their dark, vacant stares. Their eyelids were painted white, and their pupils were enormous. They began playing the drums in a style that was hard to understand, as though they were pounding randomly, without rhythm, like little children. A spotlight suddenly focused on a table where, in fact, there was a group of Brazilians who expressed their thanks in Portuguese.
They tried to talk softly so as not to disturb the actors. Papa promised to tell them afterwards why the emcee had said what he did and exactly what the Salamanca rites were all about. Ximena asked her father if Duvalier, the long-time dictator of Haiti, had been like the Argentine dictator Videla. He thought it over and said not exactly, that he looked more like Pinochet with those sunglasses. The children had already seen some of those tricks on TV and at the circus.
The zombies walked barefoot over burning coals; they pricked themselves with needles and stabbed themselves with knives without drawing blood. They placed the lit end of a cigarette on their tongues. And they ate disgusting things, like pieces of glass and a lemon with its peel still on.
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She thought the show was horrible, and she wanted to leave. A very young woman came onstage, dancing faster and faster to the beat of the drum, until she spun completely out of control. The girl, who at first had been singing a single phrase over and over again, suddenly threw back her head. Her facial expression changed; saliva ran down the side of her twisted mouth, and her gestures grew wild. The possessed woman began to display her abnormal strength.
The next act was unexpected and dreadful. The animal writhed and squealed as the blood collected in a metal bowl.
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The Swedish tourists got up and left. The rest of the audience muttered quietly, their faces revealing fascination and revulsion. Many of them began to stand up. It was unbelievable that this was happening in the United States. There was talk of filing a report with the authorities, of lawsuits. Meanwhile, the skating waitress collected their plates and took their orders for the next course. They tried speaking to her in Spanish, but she pretended not to understand. Papa ordered a malted milk for dessert, and Mama asked for apple pie with vanilla ice cream. The kids shared a banana split. A zombie woman came onstage, moving clumsily and carrying a screaming baby.
She held it high above her head, her arms extended. But it turned out to be a doll, and the crying was a recording. No one could tell if she was possessed, too, of if she was just pretending to be. The zombies began moving forward once more. These men were given a magic powder that made them appear dead, and like dead men they were buried. And like zombies they were dug up and forced to eat the Bread of Forgetfulness, and now they are my slaves.
No one fears the zombies! Everyone fears becoming one!
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As he spoke, the false Dead Ones did an awkward tap dance, their arms hanging limply by their sides, their faces expressionless. He asked the audience how you could be sure a person is truly dead. Gonzalo answered that you could tell by his heartbeat. Other tables suggested that it had to do with breathing and brain activity. But the Baron said that there was just one way to prove without a doubt what not even the shiny EEG flatline could guarantee: whatever is dead, rots.
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And a genuine Living Dead person appeared onstage. He wore a bathing suit in order to show those parts of his body that really looked rotten. He was missing tufts of hair, and certain parts of his scalp were covered with greenish moss. The emcee invited the audience to come onstage in order to inspect the Living Dead man close up, and many people did. They brought mirrors in order to see if the cadaver would fog them, and a doctor even showed up with a stethoscope. They returned to their seats, giggling nervously.
The kids, on the other hand, hungrily devoured their banana split.
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The show ended with a trial, a genuine trial by the Society of the Night, the Society of Animals, the fearsome Bizango. All will be judged. Only the Guilty One will be punished. The Innocent Child Will not be condemned. With the assistance of the possessed girl, who now appeared quite tranquil and normal, he began mixing some powders and liquids in clear glasses.
Before his parents could protest, the Baron dragged Gonzalo onto the stage. Amid magical formulas and drumbeats, he invited Gonzalo to taste a thick, green liquid from one glass and then a red one from another. Gonzalo was very calm, even amused. First he tried the green liquid and wrinkled his nose. It was awful, very bitter.
Then he tasted the red liquid, which was pretty good. For the first time ever, the film has launched its own toy line. Series 1 includes 2 versions of the beloved character Ash. Farewell to Arms Ash has over 20 points of articulation and includes interchangeable right forearms, severed possessed hand, shotgun, and axe.
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