WORLD'S END
By thetempered
'I'm going to personally grease the pole that slides you down into a tub of shit.' Gideon patted his grey beard and smiled before throwing five more $50 casino chips onto the pile in the middle of the felted table.
Grace looked across to Willard. 'Next time we are out, we need to find some new DVDs. If I have to hear him quote "No Mercy" one more time ...'
'It's a classic,' Gideon said, 'set right here in New Orleans. Reminds me of the good old days ... when we still had a city.'
Willard threw in his hand and picked up a glass of whiskey. At least he could get a couple of drinks in before he had to go. 'Next time we play billiards.'
'Come on Maverick, show me what you've got,' Grace said. She matched Gideon's last bet and turned over her cards, revealing a paltry pair of tens.
'Full house!' Gideon turned over his winning hand. 'Looks like you two losers are taking the next trip. Dinah and I will stay here and keep the home fires burning.' Gideon started dividing the chips evenly into three piles for the next time. Dinah never had to play, she always stayed back, not because she wasn't capable, but because Gideon was over protective of his teenage daughter.
'We've cleared out the Coast Guard Base, the Jackson Barracks is dust,' Grace said, 'perhaps we should make that trip up to Camp Minden, to the ammunitions plant.'
'It's over 300 miles away,' Willard said, 'but, your right, we have been putting it off for too long. The generators are close to empty.'
Grace put her hand on Willard's. 'We can find a nice place for Geraldine along the way.'
Willard pulled his hand away and stood up. He was not ready yet.
'It's been three days now Willard, you can't keep her down there any longer. I think I heard rats in the hull.'
Dinah walked along the outer deck and stopped outside the door to the saloon. 'I think you guys need to come out here and take a look at this, there's a whole lot of dead coming towards us.'
Willard, Grace and Gideon joined Dinah outside on the deck of the old steamboat World's End. Before them was the French Quarter, or at least what was left of it. Many of the buildings had been destroyed by the bombs. A group of about forty dead were walking past the ruins of the cathedral and through Jackson Square towards them.
'We haven't seen a mass like that for weeks,' Grace said. World's End was set safely back from the water's edge by about fifteen feet. They did not use a gangway, rather they had fashioned a zip line that connected the top of the steamer to a lamppost on the boardwalk.
'Look at her.' Grace pointed to a girl of about twelve years who was walking in the centre of the pack. She had springy dark hair and was wearing a dirty floral sundress and tan cowboy boots.
'I hate seeing dead kids,' Gideon said.
'No look, she's fidgeting with a button or a necklace.'
'I've never seen dead do that,' Dinah said, as the young girl arrived at the edge of the boardwalk.
The girl stopped and peered up at the motley crew on the steamboat. The mass of dead stopped with her. 'Hello.' She seemed oblivious to the corpses that stood beside her. 'I am hoping you may have a witch in your party?'
'No,' said Grace, 'but we have a couple of Mormons, will they do?'
Once the girl assured them she was alone, she was directed to scale the lamp post and reach a set of old motorcycle handlebars that hung from the zip line. Willard climbed up to the front of the boat to where the line was secured and pulled a rope, drawing the handlebars and the girl holding them across the water. Willard paused midway and left the young girl to dangle. The forty or so dead attempted to follow her and walked off the edge of the boardwalk. Once the last of the dead had fallen in and were being swept away by the swift Mississippi current, Willard continued to pull the rope until the young girl landed on the deck. She introduced herself as Sissy.
'How did you do that Sissy?' Dinah asked, 'you just walked among the dead without them wanting to take a bite out of you?'
'My necklace.' Sissy took a sip of hot chocolate. Though it was made only with water and not milk, she savoured every sip. 'It's a gris-gris, also known as a juju.' Hanging from a leather cord around her neck was a small brown leather pouch. 'It contains a charm that wards off evil.'
'You can just walk amongst them?'
'Yes.'
'I hope you don't mind me asking,' Willard said, 'but I'd love to borrow it for a couple of hours, just to get some supplies.'
'I am afraid not Mr ...?'
'Mr Bray, but just call me Willard, or just Will.'
'Will, it has been crafted only for me, it will not work on anyone else.'
'Who made it? Can they make them for us?' Dinah asked.
'I am afraid not. A witch called Martine made it for me. Grann wants me to find another witch to retrieve Martine's spell.'
'No Louisiana witches here, we are all imports I'm afraid,' Willard said, 'Gideon and his daughter Dinah are from Utah, Grace is from Texas, and I'm from Massachusetts.'
'Massachusetts? As in New England?' Sissy finished the last of her hot chocolate.
'Yes, I used to run a police boat on The Connecticut, but my wife and I came down here a while back, she thought it would be romantic for me to captain World's End. That was before the end of the world.'
'The irony of it all,' Gideon chimed in.
'Your name is Willard sir?' The young girl gratefully took an open can of peaches and a fork from Gideon, it was evident she had not eaten anything of substance for some days. 'Are you named after John Willard?'
'I wouldn't have a clue. Who was John Willard?'
'Just one of the most powerful witches in all of New England.'
'How do you know so much about witches Sissy?'
'I've been living with only my Grann for company for weeks now. She has some old books and I have been reading to her. Not much else to do really, except of course, to try and find a witch. I do not have the gift.'
'OK, so let me see if I have this straight.' Gideon was quite excited about a potential new adventure. Not that he believed in witches or fairies or ghouls, he did not really even believe in the dead, even when they were walking around in front of him. Gideon was just happy to be talking to someone new and talking about something different. 'You want us to accompany you back through the Quarter, to visit your Grann, to see if our captain here can weave magic spells?'
'Exactly,' said Sissy.
'Where too exactly?' Gideon asked.
'The only place left with fences and gates in this city after the bombings, The Lafayette Cemetery.'
'The irony of it all.' Gideon laughed. 'Taking refuge from the dead in a graveyard.'
'My necklace protects me.' Sissy played with the leather pouch hanging from her neck. 'Though it can't protect you from the monsters.'
'Never fear Sissy,' Gideon held up a large machete up in front of him. 'I'm the thing that monsters have nightmares about.'
'Good one, Buffy,' said Dinah rolling her eyes.
All four decided to the leave World's End. Usually only two would go out and leave two behind, just in case unwanted visitors arrived. But they had not seen any strangers for weeks now, and they knew they could walk to Lafayette Cemetery and back within a few hours.
They walked through the garden district along the tram tracks that dissected St Charles Avenue. A few of the stately trees survived the bombings, but most of the mansions that lined the boulevard were crumbles of rubble. They passed an old red tram car which was laying on its side. Dinah peered through the window at a dead that was trapped in the drivers' compartment. 'Looks like he has a holster people.' Dinah nodded to Willard who approached the tramcar and raised up his fire poker.
Dinah lifted up her blood-stained rolling pin and slammed it down through the window, releasing an almighty stench. The dead growled and looked up through its glassy eyes as Dinah fought the urge to vomit. Willard stabbed his poker downwards through the dead's skull. He pulled out the poker and shook it in the air, flinging the mushed brain matter from the hook of the poker. He reached down and unclipped a small revolver from the dead's holster. He flicked open the barrel, there were no bullets inside the chamber.
The smash of the glass of the tram car had brought a handful of dead out on to the street. Gideon made short work of one with his machete, while Grace cleaned off another two with her coal shovel. Dinah slammed one more with her killer kitchen pin, and Willard poked the last one. All the while Sissy stood calmly amongst the carnage.
'You might be fighting them off with 'The Force' soon Yoda.' Gideon grinned at Willard.
'Yeah right,' said Willard, 'if I am a witch, then you're a monkey's uncle.'
'That's not too much of a stretch,' Grace chimed in.
Willard turned to Sissy as they continued their path to the cemetery. 'What do you know about this Willard man, and what makes you think, even if he was my long-lost relation, that he was a witch?'
'He was accused of cursing a friend's infant who died shortly after. He was hung on Gallows Hill during the Salem witch trials in 1692.'
'Where are all the other New Orleans witches?'
'Gone. Many died, those that didn't, escaped to the Bayou. My Grann was too ill to travel, so I stayed here with her.'
They arrived at the cemetery to find the gates closed and chained with a padlock. Sissy walked further along the street where an old yellow VW camper had crashed and was lying on its side adjacent to the fence. Sissy climbed up on the camper, jumped up to a tree branch above and swung herself over the fence, landing inside the cemetery on the roof of a stone mausoleum. The others followed Sissy's lead, and followed her to down a narrow path amongst the graves to another mausoleum. Sissy opened an iron gate and led the crew into a small dark stone room that was lit only by a few dying candles.
'Grann, I'm here. I found a witch,' Sissy took Willard's arm and led him forward to a mummy-like figure who lay on small camp bed under an array of old towels. 'At least I think ... I hope ... he is a witch.'
The old woman must have been close to one hundred years old and her breathing was shallow. She opened her eyes and lifted her hand up towards Willard.
'Place your hand on hers,' said Sissy.
A rose-tinted aura emanated from the old woman's skeletal fingers. The aura wrapped itself around the old woman's and Willard's hands and began to swirl. The wisps of pink curled with an intensity of a small whirlpool, creating a strong wind that blew outward and extinguished the candles. Illuminated only by the glow of the pink energy, the eddy grew outwards and upwards until it was completely circled Willard. Then in second, an electric shock emanated from the old woman's hand sending Willard flying backwards across the tomb. He skittled his friends over as the light vanished and they were plunged into darkness.
Sissy somehow found a candle in the dark and lit it.
'I know where to find the spell for the amulets.' Willard had a stern look on his face.
'That is fabulous,' Grace said, 'what's with the long face.'
'I have another task.'
'What is it?'
Willard turned to Sissy. 'Who is Marie Laveau?'
'Seriously? You have not heard of Madame Laveau?' Sissy asked in disbelief. 'The voodoo Queen of New Orleans'
'Where is she?' Grace asked.
'My Grann, she has passed.' Sissy knelt down next to her dead Grann. 'Madame Laveau is across town St Louis Cemetery.'
'I am so sorry for your loss Sissy,' Gideon made the sign of the cross from head to chest to arms. 'Would you like me to do it?'
'No, I will do it.' Sissy pulled a switchblade from her boot. 'If you could please leave me here with her for a few minutes to say goodbye.'
'What was that all about.' Dinah leant against a tombstone, grateful to be out in the sun again. 'What else has the girl lied about. She said all the witches are gone, and now we find out there are more living out at another cemetery?'
Willard did not respond, he was pacing up and down the narrow pebble path.
'She's not living, she is an old dead witch,' Grace said. 'I did a ghost tour when I first arrived in New Orleans. If one goes to the tomb of Marie Laveau and asks for a wish, supposedly she will grant it.'
'Perhaps she can end this god damn end of the world.' Dinah started picking overgrown weeds out of the stone edges of a nearby grave.
'Mind your blaspheming Dinah,' Gideon walked in front of Willard causing him to pause and look up. 'Is that what the witch said to you Willard?'
'Sort of. Laveau may hold the key to ending this, she is a powerful witch and she can command the dead.' Willard put both hands to his temples as if trying to calm his brain and recall the immense information bestowed upon him. 'Though I have not been tasked to go to make a wish. I have been tasked to raise her from her grave.'
Under Sissy's direction, the party of five made their way down the remnants of Dauphine Street. The street was littered with mess. Signs had been pulled down, used as shields or weapons. Windows were smashed and the stores had been looted.
A dead emerged from the laneway behind them. 'No!' Sissy screamed as the dead lunged towards her and grasped for her head.
'I thought you were immune girl.' Dinah brought her rolling pin down onto the dead's skull. The dead's fingers were entwined in Sissy's hair, and as the dead fell, Sissy was brought down to the ground too. The dead had long matted hair and was missing half its jaw, it writhed on the ground until Willard poked it.
'I thought I was immune too.' Sissy tried to hold back the tears.
Gideon held out his hand out to Sissy and helped her up. 'You should ask for your money back.'
With his poker, Willard pushed a tress of hair that lay over the dead's shirt pocket. 'That's Martine,' Willard said.
'You a mind reader of dead corpses now too Will?' Grace asked.
'No, she's wearing a name tag.'
'None of the monsters have ever come near me before.' Sissy pulled her switchblade from her boot and stood ready for another attack.
'Looks like a charm didn't work for Martine either.' Gideon checked her neck and wrist. She was wearing no jewellery. 'Perhaps it fell off.'
Sissy, Grace, and Willard stood outside the charred shop with the collapsed roof. 'It is supposed to be here,' Sissy said. Gideon and Grace headed down a lane to see if there was anything left of the rear of the property.
'Sissy,' Dinah said, unconsciously tapping her rolling pin up and down in her hand, 'I don't think any charms would have survived the fire.'
'My Grann said they were here.' Sissy looked up at Willard. 'Is it here? The store?'
'Sorry Sissy, perhaps I am a witch, but I am not a magician.'
'Please, look closer.'
'And make it snappy,' Gideon and Grace ran back towards the group. 'There are at least twenty dead heading our way.'
Willard placed his hands on the wood panels, both side of the smashed glass pane in the door, and peered into the shop. The door shimmered and turned from black burnt wood to a shiny mahogany. The shattered glass in the doorframe mended and "Martine's Magical Emporium" appeared in a lavender cursive script upon the glass. Willard looked down to the shrivelled plants in the planter boxes that flanked the door. Green shoots grew out and they sprouted purple aster daisies. 'Is anyone else seeing this?' Willard asked.
No one replied. Willard turned around to his companions who were standing back in the street, jaws open, watching the roof over the shop rebuild itself.
Willard turned the doorknob, it was open. They made it inside just as the score of dead turned into the street. Willard signalled to the others to make their way to the rear of the shop as he hid beside a bookshelf near the window. The dead walk past, seemingly unaware of their location. One of the dead kicked over the planter box. A shrivelled plant fell onto the footpath.
The group settled around a large table in the rear of the shop. Night had fallen and even though Willard doubted the dead would see a candle in their refuge, he still had not wanted to be too close to the street. Willard had a stack of old books in front of him and was reading Martine's handwritten book of spells. Grace served tinned diced tomatoes into bowls and searched the shelves for dried herbs with which to flavour their meagre meal.
'So, apparently, Martine has hidden the store beneath a cloaking spell.' Willard filled up his glass with red wine they had found.
'I hope she has left you the recipe for that one.' Dinah said. 'Imagine, you could cloak World's End ... and maybe a Costco.'
Sissy joined them at the table, she was carrying a velvet-lined tray she had found in a display cabinet. Laying on the velvet were about a dozen necklaces, charms and pouches. A handwritten sign labelled them as "Ju-Ju $60.00" "Charmed with Fertility, Love, Wealth or Protection, $160.00."
Grace peered at the label as she passed around the spiced tomatoes. 'Martine would have made a fortune if she had foreseen the apocalypse.'
'I found the charm spells,' Willard said. 'It appears they do not protect you from the charm's maker, apparently some sort of protection for the witch so their spell cannot be used against them.'
After eight hours of reading and spell attempts, two more tins of tomatoes, and two more bottles of wine, Willard had spelled charms for his companions who lay sleeping on the shop floor. He was working on the final one for himself when Grace woke up.
'Last night I found a Bunsen burner, a gas canister and a quarter of tin of International Roast. Fancy a lukewarm coffee?'
'I'd love one,' Willard replied.
'What shall we do today?' Grace prepped her little science experiment. 'We can go anywhere, do anything and the dead won't touch us.'
To say the charms worked like a charm would be an understatement. They wandered the French Quarter scavenging and they filled up three shopping trolleys. One with supplies and books from Martine's, another with packaged food goods from hotel mini-bars, and another with clean clothes and bedding from a drycleaner. Alas, the squeaky wheels of the trolleys Pied Piper-ed the dead all the way back to World's End. It took a half hour to rid the sixty or so dead into the water, yet the current was slow moving.
'After you have figured out a way to cloak the boat, maybe you can figure a way to cloak us,' Dinah said to Willard as they stared down from the deck towards the bobbing masses.
'Perhaps.'
'So, what's the plan? Are you going to raise Madame Laveau?'
'Maybe.'
'It's sounds pretty dangerous to me.'
'Probably.'
'Are you sure you want to do this?' Gideon placed his hand on Willard's shoulder. Grace, Dinah and Sissy were standing with the. The light hanging over the billiard table flickered, it would not be long before the generators ceased.
'We will try her first, I trust her more than old voodoo queen.' Willard was holding a shoebox as he stared at Geraldine. She lay on the billiard table dressed in a summer frock, the bite mark was visible under the thin shoulder strap. The most inappropriate attire for their rugged world, yet since moving down to the warmer weather, Geraldine had embraced her summer wardrobe and had refused to give in to utilitarian clothing. Grace gently wiped the lids of the dead woman's closed eyes with a damp cloth. She could not wipe away the red stain from the woman's blonde hair above the temple, where Willard had pushed the knife in.
'What if she wakes up ... not right?' Sissy asked.
'I killed her ...' Willard placed the shoebox on the table, he turned away and took a few deep breaths.
'He killed her before the infection spread.' Dinah placed a silver platter and a small sharp knife on the billiard table beside the shoebox.
Willard poured salt onto the floor in a circle around the billiard table, he then passed Gideon, Grace, Dinah and Sissy a lit candle each and instructed them to each stand at the corners of the table. Willard opened the shoebox, took out a large rat and held it over the platter. Willard winced and the rat squirmed as he sliced the knife into the little beast's chest. The sacrifice had stopped moving by the time Willard had taken out its heart and let its blood drip onto the platter. Willard dabbed his finger into the blood and brought it up to his face, drawing a red line from his hairline down his forehead. He dabbed the blood again and drew two more lines across his cheek from ear to nose.
'Aksepte ofrann nou an.' Willard chanted in a loud voice, hoping the foreign words he had memorised were correct. He took the platter and walked to Geraldine's side. 'Menti li Geraldine nan moun yo.' He poured the blood from the platter onto his dead wife's chest. 'Tanpri, kite l 'travèse tounen.'
They waited. As they waited, the generator ceased. A few minutes had passed and no one had spoken. The sentries still held their candles and the blood stripes on Willard's face looked black in the ripples of moonlight reflected from the water outside.
'You called me back.' The voice was Geraldine's.
The once dead woman was now sitting upright on the billiard table.
Willard grabbed her tightly and held her to his chest. 'Yes Gerry.'
'Gerry?' She placed her hands upon Willard's chest and pushed him away. 'I am not Gerry, I am Marie Laveau.'