A Plague of Zombies: An Outlander Novella Read Online Free PDF Page A

amid the attics or outbuildings of King’s House and almost certainly sound asleep. Tom suffered badly with seasickness, and the voyage had been hard on him.
    The heat of the Indies hadn’t done the battered tin of bear grease any good, either; the rancid fat nearly overpowered the scent of the peppermint and other herbs mixed into it. Still, he reasoned, if it repelled him, how much more a mosquito, and he rubbed it into as much of his flesh as he could reach. Despite the stink, he found it not unpleasant. There was enough of the original smell left as to remind him of his usage of the stuff in Canada. Enough to remind him of Manoke, who had given it to him. Anointed him with it, in a cool blue evening on a desertedsandy isle in the St Lawrence River.
    Finished, he put down the tin and touched his rising prick. He didn’t suppose he’d ever see Manoke again. But he did remember. Vividly.
    A little later, he lay gasping on the bed under his netting, heart thumping slowly in counterpoint to the echoes of his flesh. He opened his eyes, feeling pleasantly relaxed, his head finally clear. The room was close; the servants had shut the windows, of course, to keep out the dangerous night air, and sweat misted his body. He felt too slack to get up and open the French doors onto the terrace, though; in a moment would do.
    He closed his eyes again—then opened them abruptly and leapt out of bed, reaching for the dagger he’d laid on the table. The servant called Rodrigo stood pressed against the door, the whites of his eyes showing in his black face.
    ‘What do you want?’ Grey put the dagger down but kept his hand on it, his heart still racing.
    ‘I have a message for you, sah,’ the young man said. He swallowed audibly.
    ‘Yes? Come into the light, where I can see you.’ Grey reached for his banyan and slid into it, still keeping an eye on the man.
    Rodrigo peeled himself off the door with evident reluctance, but he’d come to say something, and say it he would. He advanced into the dim circle of candlelight, hands at his sides, nervously clutching air.
    ‘Do you know, sah, what an Obeah man is?’
    ‘No.’
    That disconcerted Rodrigo visibly. He blinked and twisted his lips, obviously at a loss as how to describe this entity. Finally, he shrugged his shoulders helplessly and gave up.
    ‘He says to you, beware.’
    ‘Does he?’ Grey said dryly. ‘Of anything specific?’
    That seemed to help; Rodrigo nodded vigorously.
    ‘You don’t be close to the governor. Stay right away, as far as you can. He’s going to—I mean … something bad might happen. Soon. He—’ The servant broke off, apparently realising that he could be dismissed—if not worse—for talking about the governor in this loose fashion. Grey was more than curious, though, and sat down, motioning to Rodrigo to take the stool, which he did with obvious reluctance.
    Whatever an Obeah man was, Grey thought, he clearly had considerable power, to force Rodrigo to do something he so plainly didn’t want to do. The young man’s face shone with sweat, and his hands clenched mindlessly on the fabric of his coat.
    ‘Tell me what the Obeah man said,’ Grey said, leaning forward, intent. ‘I promise you, I will tell no one.’
    Rodrigo gulped but nodded. He bent his head, looking at the table as though he might find the right words written in the grain of the wood.
    ‘Zombie,’ he muttered, almost inaudibly. ‘The zombie come for him. For the governor.’
    Grey had no notion what a zombie might be, but the word was spoken in such a tone as to make a chill flicker over his skin, sudden as distant lightning.
    ‘Zombie,’ he said carefully. Mindful of the governor’s reaction earlier, he asked, ‘Is a zombie perhaps a snake of some kind?’
    Rodrigo gasped but then seemed to relax a little.
    ‘No, sah,’ he said seriously. ‘Zombie are dead people.’ He stood up then, bowed abruptly, and left, his message delivered.
    * * *
    Not surprisingly,