Dead Men Tell No Tales Read Free Page B

world.”
    “ What do you mean?” he asked her, concerned.
    Kaya rose from the cot and reached for her nightgown, still not daring to look at him.
    She was tense.
    “ You see, the sacrifice requires blood. And it will be mine blood which will be spilled into Mabouya’s Well.”
    “ No! Why have you to do that. We can find another way. Listen …” he protested, but was interrupted by her stern gaze.
    “ How much do you value human life, Drake? What’s the difference between my life and another’s? I will not take the life of an innocent when I can stop this Curse with an offer the Loas can’t refuse.”
    “ I can give ‘em another life. I do not want to lose you. Kaya, I’m charmed, I do not know how it happened, but it’s true,” he continued his protest, but again was shooed by Kaya, this time by her soft lips.
    Nevertheless, the argument had to be postponed because the shout from the crow’s nest had Drake spring up from bed and reach for his clothes.
    “ Ship Ahoy!”
    ****
    The Banshee’s Cry rocked gently amid a canyon of rotting husks.
    Geist had spotted the first of the floating wrecks more than an hour before. Then, they had been engulfed by the mists.
    Weird sounds echoed in that forlorn landscape; made of decaying wood and decomposing floating corpses.
    Yet, nobody trusted them to stay that way.
    They could rise up from a moment or the other, eager to plunge the living mariners in their putrid world. The sailors were afraid to utter a single word, as the ship slowly maneuvered in that endless replica of the Styx.
    Once, one of the anchored dead ship seemed to come to life when the brig came too closer; the living dead who were lying still on the main deck began to rise, scanning with sightless eyes their surroundings, yet returned to their slumber when the Banshee changed tack.
    However, Drake could not shake off the image of one of the monstrosities; a decaying horror encrusted and filled with worms and maggots that had clearly been a woman, had lifted her sickening face from the railings and had stared straight to him.
    However she had seen nothing.
    “ They can’t see us,” had whispered Kaya into his ear, “They can see only the living’s Ti-bon-ange: the lesser part of the soul which is tied to the material world. They can’t see the Gros-bon-ange, which is the spiritual part and belongs to Bondye, the Creator.”
    “ Why?” he had inquired.
    “ Because they’re animated by it. Their Gros-bon-ange remains trapped in the Well, instead of traveling beyond, and since this lesser force tends to wane they need to replenish it with that of the living.” Kaya had said.
    “ But why they’re not attacking?” he had pressed.
    She had looked away, and then had added “Because of my pact with Baron Samedi. I promised him a sacrifice at the Well and he is keeping his word. Yet, beware, because Le Baron is a trickster and has a morbid sense of humor.”
    She had stopped talking when they had entered a tight channel created by two large West Indiaman freighters, and had begun murmuring a prayer in French.
    He understood what the Baron considered funny when they spotted the coast of Cayman Brac two days later.
     
    After a seeming endless – and silent – voyage in the mist-laden sea, Geist was the first to spot land, although he could not cry the usual ‘Land Ho!’ signal.
    It was nightfall and the crew was mostly relaxing below deck, to avoid have their eyes linger too much on hellish surroundings.
    Geist rushed down the mizzenmast and caused Mac’s hearth to falter, believing they were going to collide into one of those things.
    “ We’re there, Mac! I spotted the dark outline of an island straight in front of us! I do not know how the Hell we did it, blind as we were, but I ensure you we made it!” he muttered.
    “ Keep the helm. I’m going to warn the Captain,” said Mac, then descended the poop deck and knocked to Drake’s cabin.
    Drake and Kaya were enjoying their own company