Treasure of the Dead

Chapter 27

“Don’t Haiti me because I’m beautiful.” Bones said to Maddock, who consulted the chart plotter on the console of the Sea Foam and then rolled his eyes.

“Bones, you don’t know where the heck you are. We’re not in Haiti anymore. We crossed into Dominican Republic waters ten miles ago.”

That the island of Hispaniola was now separated into two countries did not escape Maddock, for when the crazy sailor was here, it was but an island called Hispaniola constituting no country at all. Looming before them, a rocky isle jutted from the sea, taller than it was wide, a monolithic rock. Maddock couldn’t think of it any other way. It was simply a massive rock in the middle of the ocean, off the southwest coast of Dominican Republic. The island was green up top, but all gray rock on the bottom third.

“You're sure this is the place?” Willis sounded a little worried. They’d endured a not unpleasant but nevertheless long voyage on the Sea Foam to get here.

Maddock shrugged. “Not sure, but it's as good a candidate as any. Remember that weird plant the man on Tortuga told us about?”

Willis and Bones nodded.

“Jimmy identified an island near the forts at St Louis de Sud that had high zombii activity and a high concentration of that plant.”

“The one with the spores?” Bones eyed the nearing coastline with increasing interest.

“That’s the one. Also, I’ve come across accounts that herbicides have been dropped there as well.”

“Herbicides?” Willis also seemed drawn to the island, his inclusion in the conversation a mere afterthought. Maddock exhaled in frustration.

“Yes, Willis, herbicides. As in, they kill plants, especially the one our old friend told us about — the one with the spores?”

Willis nodded, “Okay, I hear you. But the currents… are they right? That sailor’s account of the weather… .”

Bones picked up the ball, sensing Maddock was losing patience. “He predicted a drift that would place the shipwreck near this island—Alto Velo.”

Maddock pulled out some crumpled notes and read from them. “Listen: Our sailor said he drifted past an island, one so small it was barely visible, but that it had lots of birds. He drifted for twenty-one days before hitting the zombie island.”

Bones looked doubtful. “But how do we know where that is? Which island? Hispaniola has thousands. How do we know this is it?”

Maddock was undeterred as he looked out at the island. “Alto Velo fits the bill. For one thing, it was endowed with large guano deposits — yeah, bird crap — which was valuable as fertilizer and as a source of saltpeter for gunpowder.”

“Holy crap,” Bones added, “I'm suddenly feeling depressed.”

Willis chuckled before answering. “What for, you finally look in a mirror?”

Bones shot Willis a look that conceded, nice one, but quickly moved on. “No, because now comes the boring part — running a grid pattern actually looking for this thing.”