Day 5 – Late to the Party
A few hours of sleep did me some good. It’s not like I need a whole hell of a lot at night. I’m so bored during the day that I usually take a few naps. I like to wander away from the girls, find a quiet bowl of palm trees and lay down for a while. Sometimes I think about Ally, if you know what I mean.
Sometimes I talk to myself about all the excitement of the day before. Sometimes I write in the journal, but most of the time I close my eyes and listen to the surf as I fall asleep.
I had a half formed plan from the night before. I would show my new guests that I didn’t want them messing with us. I didn’t want them to kill the zombie girls. It’s not that I really care about either of them; it’s more a matter of greed. If they die here I will never get to sell them for medical experiments.
Oh that sounds so wrong but look here, diary, I’m not a mad scientist bent on taking over the world. I’m just Joe-nobody that doesn’t have a lot of money. When the secret to bringing the dead back to life is out, think how much people will pay for that. They could bring their animals back, loved ones, maybe if they die fresher, like Eileen, maybe they will last a little bit longer. I bet with some work from a taxidermist the dead could look quite lively.
That and some meth or some other kind of stimulant shot right into their brain. Hey, maybe that is it. They just need some drugs. But my zombies don’t seem to have circulation systems so how will the drugs make its way around their system. God what a paradox! Arguing the merits of animating the dead. I must be loosing it. More.
I rose at the ass-crack of dawn; it really did crack, too, a big old lighting blast that ripped my eyelids off. The thunder that followed shook the ground. My girl bounced up and down a few times and screeched like a pissed off monkey behind her gag.
Eileen just stared at me with that desperate look in her eye. Like she was plotting how to turn my arms into Buffalo wings. I swear she was drooling when I jumped up and hid under the small roof. While they did a great job of building a veritable secluded island resort complete with a shit hole ten or fifteen feet away, the fact that I had done diddly squat on upkeep came back to bite me.
I need to stop making ‘bite me’ jokes.
Rain poured down like a curtain of pure evil. I hid under the thickest part of the little hut and hoped it would die down soon.
She didn’t calm down in the least. She hooted, screamed, bounced around. She pulled at the rope around her waist and at one point even turned her good eye on me. I swear she was begging me.
The water ran down her chest, across her coconut bra, and down her not so sleek stomach. I remember once, on our first island, watching her dance like a little retarded kid. A hot retarded kid.
Now look at her. Tits shrunken like a pair of – well, coconuts. I touched one the other day and felt like throwing up.
I dashed into the rain and unfastened her rope. I was going to drag her back but she followed like a little puppy that just got its butt whacked. When we were under the cover she collapsed and lay in a pile. I think she was even shivering.
Christ this zombie chick is high maintenance.
I patted her head and came away with a clump of hair for the effort. Then I ran my hands over her arm in an attempt to calm her. She just lay there in a heap and didn’t even bother to look at me.
We stayed like this for the better part of an hour. Then, like the clouds were giving us the middle finger, they parted and rolled away to reveal the hell that was the sun.
Mother Nature. You can suck it.
Later that day I had the bight idea of going hunting. That had been SO much fun in the past. I wandered away from the camp and hunted through the low brush. I didn’t find any animals and couldn’t even scare up a bird. I was so pathetic that nothing would even run away from me.
Alright. Enough putting it off. I needed to go and talk to my visitors.
I made for the coast and then angled in where I thought I had seen them. I wandered for a while and tried to avoid all the brush that whipped at my legs. It didn’t work. I was soon stripped from my knees down and swearing like a sailor on shore leave.
After a few minutes I figured out that I was in the wrong place and went back.
I found another path and followed it. No dice.
This went on for a while. I watched the sun rise and then sink as night fell. I should go back for water and food. I should have brought some with me but I was pissed. Where the hell were they? My saviors, my salvation! If I found them they would surely have pork barbeque and fresh pineapple. On second thought to hell with the fruit. I had enough over the last month to last me three undead lifetimes.
I was convinced that I would give up after my next attempt. I would go back and go to sleep. I had some food saved so I would make a delicious feast of dried fish, old pork and whatever other shit I found growing on the way back.
Except coconut!
I was about to turn around and go back when I found it. I found the place from the night before. The location of my visitors! I was saved at last.
Except that I wasn’t.
They were gone.
I stood there for a long time just staring at the space. The fire pit was still full of smoldering wood. To the side I found some bones that looked like ribs. They were picked clean but I picked at them until they would make Martha Stewart proud.
I found a few other bits of food and ate everything I could. I sucked the meat out of crab legs and licked empty clamshells. Once I got a little food I became ravenous.
I sat down and thought about my next action. Should I come back every day? Would they be back soon? In the end I did the one smart thing I had done all day.
I left them an initiation to join me at my camp fire.
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