Bamf [9]Turn Me On, Dead Man
Uploaded 6/30/97
For the Bamf Play-By-E-Mail Game

[Admin stuff: Ok, we're going on 3 weeks without hearing from Cassandra, so as of this post, she will be excluded until further notice. I can only carry someone so far. Also, does anyone recognize where I got the title to post number 9? Sorry, it seemed appropriate.]

Quick recap (read this, as some of your possible actions have been incorporated) followed by new stuff (I couldn't find a real good breaking point between recap and new stuff, so I didn't put one in.): Dana, Brady and Marshall went into the fog towards the sound of the ghost ship. Soon after that, those of you standing near the house heard sounds of muffled voices shouting out, then inhuman laughter, low and guttural, that seems to be coming from every direction at once. Then, Marshall, Brady and Dana emerge from the fog at a run, Brady with his hand on Dana's arm, trying to hurry her. She was limping, blood at the bottom of the left leg of her pants. Marshall is breathing hard, and not just from running. His face is pale and his eyes are open wide in a manner that more than suggests fear. When he speaks, all his words are run together, and he is glancing over his shoulder. "Damn! The undead or whatever-they-are are *on* the island!" Dana, speaking in a rushed and out of breath, as well as slightly pained voice says, "Hey, guys, I think we're in big trouble! Those "ghosts" can *definitely* hurt us." She looks down to get a quick glance at the scratch marks on her leg. "I hope this doesn't get infected," she mutters, making a mental note to wash them off as soon as possible. "Those things are moving in pretty fast, we need to do something quick! Either get off this place or find somewhere to hole up." Saif says, "So, fight or run? We do have the option of trying to set sail now." Dana says, "I really don't like the idea of sailing off in the dark and the fog but if that's what y'all want to do, I'm there." Marshall says, "I suggest we leave *now*." He turns and starts gesturing in the direction the boat is docked. "Come on!" John rings the bell of the lighthouse and runs down to the others. "Given our lack of easily accessible weapons, I think discretion is the better part of valor. We can always (hopefully) return to the island later if necessary." Marshall says, "The holy water hurt those things!" Dana speaks to Brady. "Maybe giving them the coins will help keep them away or slow them down... You've got the coins, I guess its up to you. And keep the holy water and crosses handy..." She grips her driftwood staff tightly turning towards the direction they just came, peering intently into the fog for signs of undead, ready to bash them until they make a run for the boat. Jeff says, "Have you ever been on a boat at night in the fog... not good for thinking something's going to come and get you. But I'm there." He picks up a handy piece of wood a little over a yard long as a weapon of sorts. In his other hand, he holds his suitcase. Brady joins the conversation saying, "I recommend staying on Island since these are 'Sailor' ghosts and they might just out sail us... unless of course they want the island not us... darn... I don't know, I will go with popular opinion but I lean towards... low food no siege possibilities. Let's leave on second thought, I don't want to be starved out by a bunch of ghosts. I would rather live to see the souls put to rest some other day." He then looks at Dana's wound. "You're the vet. Why am I trying to determine if you are hurt? Are you hurt?" "I think I will be alright for now," answers Dana. "I still vote for staying on the island - I think they'll go away at dawn so we shouldn't have to worry about starving. And giving them the coins may be enough to send them away, especially with a little holy water incentive." Saif comes over to her to get a look at the scratches on Dana's leg. "I remember seeing some alcohol in the house." He runs into the house and comes out in about fifteen seconds carrying the alcohol, a clean cloth and the hatchet, just in case. Greg adds, "Oh, and Dana, maybe when you wash your leg, you should use a little of the holy water. It might help if those things are cursed." Dana groans in response. Greg offers Brady his canteen. "That'll get us an extra quart of water ." With that out of his hand, he picks up a piece of the driftwood that was collected earlier and walks over to the hammock, starting to untie it. Brady makes sure the canteen is full, then tries to get people moving towards the boat. In answer to Dana's earlier question, he casts the coins away into the surrounding fog. "Easy come, easy go. We can always come back for them if we get desperate, right?" The light of the lighthouse makes a pass in your direction, and reflects off the coins as they tumble through the air.

Your eyes watch as the coins fly and land in the sand some fifteen feet away. To your surprise, they land at the feet of the undead sailors that were pursuing the three. None of you had been aware of their approach, yet here they stand, several of them, and several more barely visible behind them. With a low, groaning sound, they stand there, staring at you with dull, dead eyes. They are wearing, for the most part, black pants and white shirts, and are wearing belts around their waists. One, towards the middle of the group, stands out from the rest, as he has some kind of red sash from his shoulder across his chest to his waist. For a moment, everything seems to have stopped. Then, the sailor with the sash switches his sword from his right hand to his left, and reaches down to take a coin in his hand. Straightening up, he looks up from the coin to you as a huge, toothy grin spreads slowly across its face. You are momentarily paralyzed and find yourself only able to watch as he straightens up again. He opens his hand, allowing the coin to tumble back into the sand, and places his sword back in his right hand. He begins to laugh a deep, dry laugh at all of you as if to say, "I own you, and this is my little game." His bony frame shakes with his apparent mirth. Then, his expression changes from his happiness to a look of total hatred for all living creatures. Suddenly, there is a rush of activity. Everyone gets up, some with help from others, and you begin running to get away from the nearby sailors, grabbing whatever is handy. Brady grabs his backpack, Jeff tightens his grip on his suitcase, Greg gets the hammock off the house. The sailors advance on you all, moving with remarkable speed you would not expect to see from the undead. Their movements are fluid, almost graceful compared to the slow shuffle you have come to identify with the undead of movies and fiction from home. You run past the house, afraid that around the next corner will be another group of sailors. None are seen. You continue running across the sand to the dock, where the boat is. The boat is bobbing in the tide. In your mind, it almost seems that it is excited to see you. You are certainly excited to see it sitting here. John tugs on the mooring line to pull the boat closer to the dock and allow boarding. As he holds it in place, Marshall grabs the line on the stern and begins to pull the boat alongside the dock. It seems to be moving impossibly slowly. Behind you, on the shore, you can see the advancing sailors, wielding swords, clubs and other weapons. Jeff, Dana, and Greg get into the boat, followed by John and Saif. Brady prods Marshall, who resists for a second, but then relents and boards. Brady then holds his cross and closes his eyes briefly, saying a quick prayer of warding. When he hears the footsteps of the sailors running across the wood of the dock, he opens his eyes and looks back. The sailor with the red sash is leading the others. Dana calls out to Brady to watch out. John moves towards Brady, offering his assistance. Greg attempts to move, but something pins him where he sits. He panics for a moment, but then realizes that his shirt was caught in one of the boat's seams. Then, Greg begins to put the sail up with help from Jeff. Brady holds his ground, holding the open container of holy water in his hand. As the sailor comes close to him, Brady splashes the water on the sailor. The sailor screams and lashes out with his sword, cutting Brady's outstretched arm, causing Brady to drop the holy water container. It bounces once off the dock, then lands in the water with a splash, out of reach. The sailor is momentarily stopped, but is regaining its composure. Brady gets into the boat with a push away from the dock as the sailor has gotten his wits about him. The sailor's final attack misses everyone. It growls, seeming to curse its lost prey. You watch as it reaches its sword arm back and throws its sword at the boat. The sword travels the dozen feet to the boat, flying through the air and striking the sail of the boat, leaving behind a gash in one of the sections of the sail before it clatters to the deck. The sail is not disabled yet, but with neglect, it will be.

The sailor with the sash turns to the other sailors who have reached the dock. He raises his hand above his head as if to tell them to stop, then he motions forward, back to the house. THE HOUSE!! Cassandra is still in the house! The sailors turn and run off the dock, onto the beach, and they disappear in the fog. You look back towards the island as a feeling of worry sinks in. Worry for Cassandra.

The boat is still in the small harbor, and the wind is not blowing. John and Brady each grab an oar and begin to move the boat slowly, though the current of the water seems to be holding you in place. Marshall stands up in the middle of the boat, expressing his frustration at nature for not providing a wind right now. He turns to the sail and furrows his brow. Just as he does this, a light breeze picks up, filling the sail slowly and pushing you out of the harbor into the black waters ahead. The boat begins to rise and fall as the water beneath you swells with waves. You have left the harbor, and the breeze carries you out away from the island. Behind you, you can see the light of the lighthouse sweeping around indistinctly in the fog. As the distance between you and the lighthouse grows, it also grows darker. Dana spends some time cleaning her and Brady's wounds with alcohol and water.

In the distance towards the lighthouse, you can barely make out a faint tolling of the ghost ship's bell as it has set sail again. It is getting closer to your boat, and it is approaching quickly. You look around you, but only see blackness in the water, and grey mist in the sky. The water laps against the bottom of the boat, and the boat rolls slowly left and right over the swells.

After several moments, the tolling of the ships bell seems like it is right on top of you. Then, faintly in the background, towards the lighthouse, you hear the bell of the lighthouse ringing wildly for about a minute. The bell of the ghost ship tolls once more, and is then silent.

Here you are, seven of you on a sailboat in the middle of nowhere. The lighthouse's light is indistinct in the distance, and occasionally cannot be seen at all. The water around you is black as night, and the fog covers your surroundings well. The air is cool and damp. After a few minutes of sailing, you run aground on what is apparently a sandbar. Seems like a good place to pause and get your collective bearings.

- Brett

To continue the story, read the archived text files. Next up is number 10.