The Smoky Corridor

68

“I saw Captain Pettimore,” Joseph said to Seth.

“Where?”

“Drifting through the tunnels. I asked him, ‘How’s tricks?’ and he says he’s shoving off in the morning. Returning to the distant shore.”

“Can he do that?” asked Seth.

“Maybe. Remember, kiddo, he’s always boasting about being a big-cheese voodoo king. Says he can do all sorts of neat tricks we can’t.”

“Mr. Cooper told me Pettimore was a witch doctor—back when I found the stone.”

“Yeah, well, the captain says he found himself a new ‘earthen vessel’ and will be coming back down tomorrow to fetch his gold.”

“You know what that means?” said Seth, his eyes widening.

“Yep.” Joseph’s smile grew so wide his teeth ran from ear to ear. “Some other folks will see what he’s up to and come down here after him! Adult folks!”

“So we can leave here, too!”

“Hold your horses, little brother. First we need to set things right. Undo the wrong done to us!”

“Will killing an adult set us free, Joseph?”

“Maybe. I think so. And if killing one grown-up don’t make me feel better about moving on, well, by gum, we’ll find us another one to lock inside that smoky box! And if that don’t work, we’ll keep killin’ ’em till I say we’ve killed enough!”

Seth just nodded. He always did what his big brother told him to.

“Where’s your zombie?”

The creature loped out of the darkness, his arms flopping limply, his knuckles nearly scraping the floor.

“Tell him to stoke the furnace,” said Joseph.

“Stoke the furnace.”

“Yes, master.”

“We need it smokin’ by morning! Go on. Tell him!”

“We need it smokin’ by morning.”

“Yes, master.” Seth’s zombie hobbled over to the woodpile, pried a log free, carried it to the furnace, and jammed it into the first firebox.

Then he repeated the trek a dozen or more times while Joseph broke out in song.

Glory, glory, hallelujah

Teacher hit us with a ruler

He shot us in the head

To make certain we was dead

But now we’re killin’ them!

Seth, on the other hand, didn’t feel much like singing.