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I was captured and immediately put in a holding cell, where Guillaume personally tortured me. The bastard wanted to break my will. I refused to give in. Since he wasn't much to look at five-foot-six and one hundred and thirty pounds soaking wet, I berated him for his lack of height and called him an atavistic throwback of the Aryan supremacy thing he loved so much. That struck a nerve, and Guillaume decided he wouldn't turn me into a slave after all. The Aboriginals and African immigrants who'd been living in the town of Ville-Marie, western Quebec, had seen me defy his white power and authority. He wanted to make an example out of me so the others wouldn't rebel.

I was resigned to meeting my fate with dignity. I am the son of immigrants from the island of Haiti. It's the only place on the planet where European colonialism and imperialism were defeated by a non-white population. The island of Haiti is the first independent Black nation in the New World. I sure hope my brethren are faring better against the flesh-eating, mindless Zombies than the rest of the Western Hemisphere. Guillaume and his wife, a chubby blonde-haired white chick named Paula, had their servants string me up in the middle of the Ville-Marie town square. And they were ready to lynch me good and proper. I thought I was done for. The two thousand or so white people living in the town of Ville-Marie were all gathered there to see me hang, and so were the African immigrants and Aboriginals whom they enslaved. Guillaume and his people were triumphant. And they were quite gleeful about it. I wasn't shocked. I always believed that deep down, people were wicked and the folks in Quebec were far more racist than anyone else in Canada, except maybe people from Alberta. They don't like racial/ethnic minorities down there.

My mind wondered about Baal. I hadn't seen nor heard of him since I was captured. I figured the old Vampire skipped town and abandoned me to my fate. After all, what could one Vampire do against thousands of well-armed humans? In hindsight, I should have had more faith in Baal. For while I was busy being tortured, he hid in the tunnels underneath the City of Ville-Marie, and somehow found his way into a Zombie nest. He avoided them during the daylight hours, then when night fell, he roused them. As hundreds of zombies chased the solitary vampire in the tunnels underneath the town, he led them to the surface. He came out of the sewer access in the middle of the town square, pursued by hundreds of starving zombies. You should have seen the looks on the faces of Guillaume and his people. They were beyond shocked. In the pandemonium that followed, Baal freed me.

Baal wanted to take off, but I decided to stick around. I freed some of the so-called slaves, those nameless African immigrants and Aboriginals whose only crime was to be living in Ville-Marie, western Quebec, as the Zombie plague hit in 2013. I wanted them to have a fighting chance against both the racists who run their hometown and the Zombie hordes. Baal forcibly dragged me away, and we drove off in the car. A few miles from the town of Ville-Marie, Baal and I encountered what we thought was a solitary zombie on the road, but it turns out we were wrong. The person we encountered was Aquene Angeni, a young Aboriginal woman who'd been heading toward Ville-Marie, Quebec, because she heard there was a zombie-free human settlement there. Baal wanted to leave her but I couldn't bear to do it. The short, olive-skinned young Native woman with the spiky hair dyed bright purple and the tattoos looked like she'd been through hell. She seemed tense as I pulled the car to a stop near her. I didn't blame her. Humankind was an endangered species these days and the only humans who seemed to survive the zombie apocalypse were racists, madmen, serial killers and other undesirables.

I told Aquene that we came in peace and she laughed.

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