The Mercenaries of Havenshaw Crypt by Sutter D

Author:Sutter, D. [Sutter, D.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Publisher: MorbidbookS. Everything Bleeds.
Published: 2015-02-12T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 7

HIS BODY WAS dumped into a pit of sand. He could feel the water seeping out of his body, being absorbed by the grains underneath him. He lay there unattended until finally his arms felt light enough to move and his toes (made of match box pieces) began to wiggle. Carbie stood on wobbly legs. He walked through the sand, sinking from time to time, toward the nearby settlement.

Beyond the shield of bamboo the ancient stone buildings sat dormant, rows and rows of stone huts. They were quite enormous, possibly bigger than Brimstone’s elephants. Carbie started through the bamboo and heard a rustling overhead.

He looked skyward. Ignatius the Ape was manipulating his body through the trees. He swung one ape arm over the canopy and a tangle of leaves and sticks came crashing towards Carbie. They broke against his head and body, forcing him to the floor of the jungle. Before he could regain his composure, the ape was upon him, holding his arms close to his body so that they couldn’t move.

“I thought that was you.” Ignatius closed one eye and eyeballed Carbie from behind a silver rimmed monocle with the other.

“Quite a sorry sack of shit these days, eh?” he said. “Not much for me to worry over.”

Holding Carbie like his own personal action figure, Ignatius bounded toward the village. They reached the limits and passed into the open area. Ignatius began to pound the dirt with his free hand.

“People, People!” he yelled in his sophisticate tone. “Please… come and join me for a deliberation of fate. I cannot, and will not, do this by myself.”

The random masses started to pour out of their spectacularly built homes. There was a portly family, round and blob-like who barely possessed limbs. They moved in concert, like five jingle bells rolling side by side. A squat Gary ran out of his hut, his curly head of hair bouncing. Something supported by only one leg, which poked out of the center of its torso, sprung up and down towards them.

Ignatius turned in a semi-circle, waving at the motley crowd like a Prince. “Good afternoon, good afternoon.”

They formed a line in front of the ape. Carbie was embarrassed by his exposure. The ape held him out for all to see and stare they did. They watched with pleading eyes. He knew they were under control of the monkey-man, wanted Carbie’s help for release. They either did what he wished or fell to prosecution, possibly public execution.

“What shall we do with this… scum?” he asked the collective.

The people whispered and murmured about themselves. Carbie could almost feel their reluctance to answer. Then, someone shouted in a high-pitched voice. “Let him go!”

Carbie did not see the culprit and obviously Ignatius hadn’t either, for he screamed, “What? Who said that hogwash?”

When nobody opened up, the ape waded through the crowd. Carbie brushed against bodies and they moved away as if he was forged of poison. The ape sniffed the air. Its hot breath played across

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