“Because we can’t trust you.”
“Fine. I’ll call my friends back over here for breakfast.” He cupped his hand over his bloody mouth. “Vini macoutes mwen,” he called. “Vini.”
I couldn’t see them yet, but I heard their footsteps.
“What do you want us to do?” I asked.
“Just you,” Pouchon said. “I need you to go back with me.”
“Why?”
“The money.”
“Are you serious?” I asked. “You want to walk back to a place where there are two guys with assault weapons and a woman who apparently won’t die… and all for a little bit of walking around money?”
“That money cannot be left behind for Kathleen Shannard,” he said. “And I do what I’m told.”
“By who?”
“By whom, you mean. By my master, Amanda. By our master.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“You’re a zombie, Amanda… a bokor macoute, a sorcerer in service… just like me.”
“I’m pretty sure I’d know if I was a zombie.”
He grinned. “That’s the best part. You don’t know. I didn’t know either until I got the call.” He looked over to Cadance. “That was thanks to you.”
“I guess eating people’s made you a wee bit insane,” I said.
“I need to take your ear.”
“What?”
“Mwen santi Bondye vire do ban mwen.” He grabbed me by the neck. “Tout bagay pa la pou lontan.”
“Please…” I said. I jabbed him in the eye.
He didn’t seem to notice.
“Tout koumansman genyen yon fen.”
He bit down on the lobe.
I screamed. I felt like I would pass out from the pain, but I didn’t. I was there. I was feeling it.
And Pouchon was in no hurry. “Nou renmen ou,” he said. “Ou va pou tout tan nan bra Papa selès la.”
And then it was off.
He held the ear up for me to see. It didn’t look like something that had been a part of me; it looked cold and shriveled.
“Piga ou vire do ban mwen lè m’ap rele nan pye ou.”
I wasn’t going to be able to wear my hair up anymore.
“You’re invincible now,” Pouchon said. “She cannot hurt you.”
“Can you hurt me?” I asked.
“No one can. Other than our master.”
“And who the hell is that?”
“We need to go.”
“What about my friends?” I said. “And Cadance?”
“They’ll be safe,” he replied.
“Those two zombies will attack them the moment we are gone.”
“Those zombies are coming with us. Call them.”
“I don’t speak voodoo,” I said.
“You know the words…”
He was right; I did.
“Vini,” I said. I started to walk back to the stables.
The two macoutes followed behind me, as did Pouchon.
And somehow that didn’t surprise me.
We stepped out of the woods and into the parking lot.
Kathleen saw us. She was standing with Gary. The two gunmen weren’t there.
“You’ve returned, Pouchon,” she said. “You killed my men and you almost killed poor Gary here. I’m not about to forgive you for that.”
“I brought someone,” he said.
“I know. Another bokor macoute. How exciting for us all.”
“Yeah, I’m Amanda,” I said. “We’ve met like a couple of times now.”
“I know who you are. I’ve known about you for a very long time. Why do you think I had them bring you here?”
“The cinnamon challenge?”
“Marinette can’t stop me,” she said, “no matter how many fat American whores she fills with the rotten seed of her sons.”
“This is starting to sound pretty personal.”
“Who is your father, Amanda Hackensack? Why don’t you carry his name?”
“It was a crazy time,” I said. “Somalia, Tonya Harding, the last few seasons of Full House had really jumped the shark… there were a lot of bastards born back then.”
“Your father was a loa… a spirit.”
“I know what a loa is… um… apparently…”
“That’s what makes you a bokor macoute. Marinette asks for your left ear and in return she gives you power over your brothers in bondage.”
“My brothers?”
“She means the other macoutes,” Pouchon said.
“So what’s stopping me from ordering every zombie in a mile radius from ripping you to pieces?” I asked her.
“What’s stopping me from doing the same to you?” she replied.
“So it’s a Mexican standoff.”
“A vodou standoff,” Pouchon said. “It happens more than you’d think.”
“My power is stronger,” she said. “I am the mount of Kalfou, the Master of—”
“Master of Crossroads,” I said. “I’m aware.” I wasn’t sure how, but I decided just to roll with it.
I turned to face my two macoutes. “Touye,” I said, kill, the one command that would allow them to kill another of their kind. Of our kind.
They ran toward Kathleen.
“Rete trankil,” she said.
The macoutes stopped.
“Was there a point to this, Pouchon?” I asked. “There’s two of us and one of her… does that give us something?”
“I’m here, too,” Gary said.
“Shut up, Gary,” Kathleen and I said at pretty much the same time.
“Yeah, there’s a plan,” Pouchon said. “Command them again.”
“Touye,” I said.
Pouchon launched himself at Kathleen, pushing her to the ground.
And then he started to kiss her.
She punched him in the face.
He elbowed her temple. And then he kissed her again.
And the two macoutes fell onto them.
Kathleen couldn’t command them to stop.
She didn’t even have a chance to scream.
After a minute or so the macoutes had finished feeding, and Kathleen and Pouchon were a mix of torn clothes, chewed bones and a fleshy goo.
“I didn’t think she could be killed,” Gary said. “I thought she’d outlive us all.”
“That’s why you’re nobody’s bokor macoute,” I said.
And then I watched the zombies eat him.
I locked my two pet macoutes in one of the trailers and found a cell phone in one of the trucks; I called 911 and told them I didn’t know exactly what happened, but that people were dead and that my friend needed an ambulance.
I found the girls where I’d left them, Julia in pain and shock but conscious, Cadance in tears over what was to come.
“What’s going to happen to me?” she asked me.
“It’s all about you, isn’t it,” I said. “My friend has a bullet in her knee. And she was our best player.”
“My sister’s dead.”
“I know.”
“Will those men be okay?” sayra asked.
“The ones who are zombies or the ones who were eaten by zombies?”
“Julia and I got better… so maybe they can?”
“I think so,” I said. Actually, I knew. “There was a man in Haiti who got better after, like, twenty years.”
“What about you?” sayra asked. “Are you okay?”
I felt the power of Marinette, the knowledge of thousands of years of magic from lands I’d never seen. I felt her speak to me, in thoughts more than words. My mistress could be cruel, she told me; she wasn’t going to hide the truth from me. But she’d given me her power to do what I felt was right, and she’d honor my decisions. I’d never felt so empowered.