The small, brown-paper package, wrapped in string, is no bigger than my hand. The Florida postmark makes my heart beat faster.
I bolt up the stairs to my room.
Here, at last, is the perfect solution to my problem. Damien will be no match for a little voodoo magic!
“Rose may have you now,” I mutter, using nail clippers to cut the strings, “but that’s about to change.”
I glance lovingly at his picture, framed and hung in place of honour above my pillow.
I open the crackling paper to find a black box and a business card.
“Mama Jetti’s Traditional Haitian Magics” I read aloud. It lists her contact info, and then there’s a bunch of small print, probably a disclaimer or something similarly boring written in complicated legalese.
I set the business card on my bedside table, and return my attention to the box.
“Time for the big reveal.” I take a deep breath, and carefully remove the lid.
Inside, nestled in a bundle of shredded newspaper, is a single black vial. I can’t see the contents, but when I pick it up and shake it, I can hear powder shifting. Spotting a folded piece of paper tucked into the lid, I pull it out and read the instructions.
* * *
“Damien! I’ve got your drink!”
I watch Rose weave her way through the crowd, holding two brimming red Solo cups above her head. She’s wearing blue short-shorts and a yellow bikini top, all the better to show off the fresh tramp stamp on her lower back. Apparently, she’d had it done just that afternoon, but she hadn’t bothered keeping the ugly plastic wrap on it.
Yeah, I think bitterly. The infection that will set in by tomorrow will be sooo attractive…
I sip my own drink carefully, fingering the vial in my pocket and trying to ignore the churning in my stomach. It’s hard to be patient, watching his arm curve around her slim waist and trace the stylized butterfly tattooed into her skin. Clearly, he’s into ink.
It won’t be for long.
All I have to do is wait for the right moment. The tricky part is making sure that only Damien’s cup has the magic stuff…
Twenty minutes later, I realize that getting to it is going to be difficult. He and Rose are so into each other, it would take a fire hose to pry them apart. I grind my teeth, watching his lips nibbling at her neck. Okay. The hard way, then.
I dump the powder into my beer. According to the instructions, I’m supposed to put the powder in an open wound, but the best I can do is get him to swallow it.
Find out what happens next in A Quick Bite of Flesh — the zombie anthology lurches your way soon from Hazardous Press!