How many times can you survive an encounter with the…supernatural?
Once?
Twice?
Three times?
Try twelve and counting.
So it’s with great unease that I begin to tell you the tale of my encounter with…zombies! To preface said story, I must warn ye - these events happened only a short while ago and it is with great strength that I share what transpired on that fateful trip.
If all began with an odd request. I was ta haul a mass of powder kegs (barrels full of gunpowder) from one end of Port Royal, to Tortuga. Yes, an unlikely pair of places to agree to sail between. But not a single soul has ever challenged the wisdom of Captain Jack, and so I took the job. (Well actually quite a few have questioned my wisdom, but that’s just a technicality.)
The most unusual aspect of the first night of travel was the way the clouds hung in the air so low that the sails could almost touch ‘em. The fog was thick and the waters black as ink. That first night I should have known something was amiss. But then the sun arose and all was well. I got distracted during the day with a bit of another discovery (but that’s ANOTHER story). Then the night came.
The water that next night looked thick and black. It was hard to tell where the sky and water met the horizon. Then something began to shake inside one of the barrels of gunpowder.
My first thought was ‘oh great - an explosion is about to happen and I’m stuck in the night‘. As I considered my options, I decided to see where it came from. As I approached the barrels (there were well over 100), the sound stopped. I was either deeply lucky (as I’ve been known to be) and it was my imagination, or something terrible was about to happen. All of a sudden…
I realized my worst fears must have come true. A stowaway must be aboard! Once I find out just who it is, they’ll be sorry. Perhaps I’ll put a scare on ‘em! I went to the cabin and grabbed the largest, most frightening ax I could find. ‘I’m the ‘crazy captain’ who will chop ‘ye ta bits‘, I’ll yell. Then I’ll drop to the deck laughing for the rest of the night after the freeloader jumps overboard. I quietly…yes ever so silently…creep over to the cargo. Over 100 barrels and now there was nary a sound ta be heard! Indeed I realized that all sounds had stopped, including the water lapping against the ship. Not even the sails were billowing any longer…
Then - suddenly - I hear a deep groaning sound. It sounded like it was coming directly from the cargo! But it was not longer limited to one barrel. It sounded like all of them where making sounds. Some where rattling, while others began to make creaking and cracking sounds - like wood about to splinter. A few made sounds that I could have swore were words…at first sounded like “ray-nes”. One by one, each barrel started groaning the same thing. “Ray-nes! Ray-nes!” Then I finally realized what they were really saying. “BRAINS!” They were saying ‘BRAINS!’
At this time, one by one, the barrels of wood splintered and each one burst open. What came out was an entirely different cargo from what I thought was in them. I was suddenly face-to-face with an entire deck full of zombies!!!
The worst thing about it (besides all the terror it created) was how they looked. Imagine the most horrible movie zombie, then multiply it by…well a lot.
So what did I do? How did I survive?
Well, faced with yet ANOTHER army of the undead (remember the skeletons?), I did what I could to think of a plan. I slowly stepped back from the crowd of ghouls - I needed to think up something quick. Thankfully they were slow, because I wasn’t thinking so clearly at that point. They kept doing the whole ‘brains brains’ thing, which was enough to spur me to action.
You know how I mentioned the daytime I talked about earlier? Well it turns out I had hidden a bit of extra rum on board, so I kinda missed out on the day. Thankfully, it’s effects had worn off by this time, otherwise I’m afraid this story might never have been told. Anyway, the memory of the rum reminded me that fire might work well against these ghoulies. Since there were a few bottles all over the deck (um yeah it was a rough day), I grabbed the nearest one and was prepared to light the zombies on fire!
…except I didn’t have a light. It was on the other end.
So here’s what I did:
There were still a few barrels that had not yet erupted with zombies. They appeared to form a line right between the hoard of the nasties. So I leaped onto the closest barrel and with the zombies reaching all over at me, trying to snag me’ ankles, I jumped from barrel ta’ barrel over to the other side of the ship where the striker lay. I grabbed a bit of sail, climbed the mast and headed up with rum in hand. The zombies were caught completely off guard. I cut one o’ the sails, draped it across the whole lot of ‘em and lit it on fire. It only took three strikes of the flint to get a spark and light the rum-soaked sail.
Only now I was faced with a wooden deck covered with zombies who were all on fire and one less sail.
Just then - and it must have been yer good old Captain Jack’s luck - one of the unburst barrels must have actually been full of gun powder! Because it exploded and lifted the whole mess of ghoulies into the air and off my ship and into the ocean! There was some damage to the deck but not a trace of zombie on the ship.
Only now there’s a bunch of half-burnt zombies swimming around somewhere in the ocean, I suspect. But that’s ANOTHER story. For now, Happy Halloween and remember to be careful tonight and be sure ta dress up as a pirate!
Now that the 
I been busy a work’n on a new design for me blog ta help make it easier ta read, comment and all that. I also been work’n on reply’n ta all the email I been gett’n…so if ye’ve written me…hopefully ye’ll be hear’n from me soon - savvy?
So…today is the day the dead walk upon the earth…again! And to think I’d seen THAT happen outside of Halloween. A lot of rum was drank after that, I must say.
