1611 A.D., EDO, JAPAN
Enrique Desilva, a Portuguese merchant doing business in the islands, wrote this passage in a letter to his brother:
Father Mendoza, reacquainting himself with Castillian wine, spoke of a man who has recently converted to our faith. This Savage was a member of one of the most secretive orders in this exotic, barbaric land, “The Brotherhood of Life.” According to the old clergyman, this secret society trains assassins for, and I speak in all sincerity, the purpose of executing demons… These creatures, from his explanation, were once human beings. After their death, some unseen evil caused them to arise… feasting upon the flesh of the living. To combat this terror, “The Brotherhood of Life” has been formed, according to Mendoza, by the Shogun himself… They are taken from an early age… trained in the art of destruction… Their strange manner of unarmed battle devotes much time to avoiding manhandling by the demons, wriggling as does a snake to avoid being seized… Their weapons, oddly shaped Oriental scimitars, are designed for the severing of heads… Their temple, although its location remains the utmost secret, is said to possess a room where the live and still-wailing heads of destroyed monsters adorn the walls. Senior recruits, primed for their ascension into the brotherhood, must spend an entire night in this room, with nothing but the unholy objects for company… If Father Mendoza’s story is true, this land is, as we have always suspected, one of godless evil… Were it not for the lure of silk and spice, we would do well to avoid it at all costs… I asked the old priest where this new convert was, in order to hear the words of this tale from his own lips. Mendoza informed me that he had been found murdered almost a fortnight ago. “The Brotherhood” do not allow their secrets to be spilled, nor their members to renounce their allegiance.
Many secret societies existed in feudal Japan. “The Brotherhood of Life” does not appear in any text, past or present. Desilva does make some historical inaccuracies in his letter, such as referring to a Japanese sword as a “scimitar.” (Most Europeans did not bother with learning any aspects of Japanese culture.) His description of the wailing heads is also an inaccuracy as a severed zombie head could not produce any noise without a diaphragm, lungs, and vocal cords. If his story is true, however, it would explain why there have been few reported outbreaks in Japan as opposed to the rest of the world. Either Japanese culture has produced an effective wall of silence surrounding its outbreaks or the Brotherhood of Life accomplished its mission. Either way, there were no reports of outbreaks in connection with Japan until the mid-twentieth century.
The Portuguese merchantman Marialva left Bissau, West Africa, with a cargo of slaves bound for Brazil. It never reached its destination. Three years later, in the middle of the South Atlantic, the Danish vessel Zeebrug spotted the drifting Marialva. A boarding party was dispatched for the purpose of salvage. They found, instead, a cargo hold of undead Africans still chained to their bunks, writhing and moaning. There was no sign of the crew, and each of the zombies had at least one bite taken from its body. The Danes, believing this ship to be cursed, rowed hastily back to their vessel and reported their findings to the captain. He immediately sank the Marialva with cannon fire. Because there is no way of knowing exactly how the infestation came aboard, all that is left to us is speculation. No lifeboats were found aboard. Only the captain’s body was found, locked in his cabin, with a self-inflicted pistol wound to the head. Many believe that, since the Africans were all chained, the initial infected person must have been a member of the Portuguese crew. If this is true, the unfortunate slaves would have to have endured watching their captors devour or infect one another after their slow transformation into living dead, the virus having worked its way through their systems. Even worse is the awful likelihood that one of these crewmembers attacked and infected a chained slave. This new ghoul, in turn, bit the chained, screaming person next to him. On and on down the line, until the screams were eventually quiet and the entire hold was filled with zombies. Imagining those at the end of the line, seeing their future creeping steadily closer, was enough to conjure the worst nightmares.
1762 A.D., CASTRIES, ST. LUCIA, THE CARIBBEAN
The story of this outbreak is still told today, both by Caribbean islanders and Caribbean immigrants in the United Kingdom. It serves as a powerful warning, not just of the power of the living dead but of humanity’s frustrating inability to unite against them. An outbreak of indeterminate source began in the poor white area of the small, overcrowded city of Castries on the island of St. Lucia. Several free black and mulatto residents realized the source of the “illness” and attempted to warn the authorities. They were ignored. The outbreak was diagnosed as a form of rabies. The first group of infected people were locked in the town jail. Those who suffered bites while trying to restrain them were sent home without treatment. Within forty-eight hours, all of Castries was in chaos. The local militia, not knowing how to stem the onslaught, was overrun and consumed. The remaining whites fled the city to the outlying plantations. Because many of them had already been bitten, they eventually spread the infection throughout the entire island. By the tenth day, 50 percent of the white population was dead. Forty percent, more than several hundred individuals, were prowling the island as reanimated zombies. The remainder had either escaped by whatever seacraft they could find or remained holed up in the two fortresses at Vieux Fort and Rodney Bay. This left a sizable force of black slaves who now found themselves “free” but at the mercy of the undead.
Unlike the white inhabitants, the former slaves possessed a deep cultural understanding of their enemy, an asset that replaced panic with determination. Slaves on every plantation organized themselves into tightly disciplined hunting teams. Armed with torches and machetes (all firearms had been taken by the fleeing whites) and allied with the remaining free blacks and mulattoes (St. Lucia contained small but prominent communities of both), they swept the island from north to south. Communicating by drum, the teams shared intelligence and coordinated battle tactics. In a slow, deliberate wave, they cleared St. Lucia in seven days. Those whites still within the forts refused to join the struggle, as their racial bigotry matched their cowardice. Ten days after the last zombie was dispatched, British and French colonial troops arrived. Instantly, all former slaves were placed back in chains. Any resisters were hanged. As the incident was recorded as a slave uprising, all free blacks and mulattoes were either enslaved or hanged for aiding in the supposed rebellion. Although no written records were kept, an oral account was passed down to the present day. A monument is rumored to exist somewhere on the island. No resident will testify to its location. If one can take a positive lesson from Castries, it is that a group of civilians, motivated and disciplined, with only the most primitive arms and basic communication, is a formidable match for any zombie attack.
1807 A.D., PARIS, FRANCE
A man was admitted to Chвteau Robinet, a “hospital” for the criminally insane. The official report filed by Dr. Reynard Boise, chief administrator, states: “The patient appears incoherent, almost feral, with a insatiable lust for violence… With jaws that snap like a rabid dog, he successfully wounded one of the other patients before being restrained.” The story that followed consists of the “wounded” inmate receiving minor treatment (bandaging his wounds and a dose of rum), then being placed back in a communal cell with more than fifty other men and women. What followed days later was an orgy of violence. Guards and doctors, too frightened by the screams emanating from the cell, refused to enter until a week had passed. By this time, all that remained were five infected, partially devoured zombies, and the scattered parts of several dozen corpses. Boise promptly resigned his position and retired to private life. Little is known of what happened to the walking dead, or the original zombie that was brought to the institution. Napoleon Bonaparte himself ordered the hospital to be closed, “purified,” and turned into a convalescent home for army veterans. Also, nothing is known of where the first zombie came from, how he contracted the disease, or, in fact, if he had infected anyone else before being sent to Chвteau Robinet.