The Loa cleric heard the dreadful moans of the zombie horde that had broken free of the control of the insolent dabblers. The horde had no master; they wandered aimlessly, and he knew he had to harness them before they reached the bayou town. Still, though the dabblers were ignorant children, they deserved life. He placed his hand on the forehead of the one who had fallen to her knees. A brief chant, and her eyes rolled back, her will turned over to him. "Run," he said. Elsewhere in the bayou, all the formerly terrified teens ran as one.

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