Welcome to The Zombie-Wilson Diaries!!

Welcome to Paradise!

Zombie-Wilson News


Zombie Wilson Diaries was recently named one of the best zombie books of 2010 over on Barnes and Noble. Sure I barely squeaked in but I am very proud of my little book. Check out the full list here.


Sequel News!


I'm workingon the Zombie Wilson Diaries 2! I have a whole new story arc planned and it will be bigger and funnier than the first one. With any luck this will do as well as the first and it will see publication. Thank you one and all for making this a fun and exciting project. If it weren't for you and your emails and comments, I doubt this book would even exist.


The site is now rearranged as two diaries. You can check out a healthy dose of the first book. When you  are ready for more just scoot on over to Amazon and pick up the paperback OR the Kindle version which is ONLY $2.99. That's cheaper than a McDonald's value meal AND you won't get indigestion. However, I can't comment on any feelings of nausea.


Hang in there while I get the site rebooted. I will have more of the first diaries up as a preview as well. 

Undead Praise for The Zombie-Wilson Diaries

"Something different for lovers of zombie fiction. A fast-paced, darkly comic tale with a hint - maybe more than a hint - of madness."

          -David Dunwoody, author of EMPIRE and UNBOUND & OTHER TALES

"Timothy Long's work is always original and fun. This book is no exception!"

          - Eric S Brown, author of War of the Worlds Plus Blood Guts and Zombies

"A dog-rough zomedy that'll have you laughing your (undead) ass off from start to finish. Daniel Defoe fans beware!"

           -Wayne Simmons - Author of Drop Dead Gorgeous

"Timothy Long's Zombie Wilson Diaries is an addictive, engaging, funny, gross, no-holds-barred story of a castaway and the zombie girl he can't live without. Don't even hesitate to buy this one!"

          -Stephen A. North, author of Dead Tide

10 - My girlfriend hates to be left alone

My Girlfriend Hates To Be Left Alone

I spent the day exploring the island. It was a nice change of pace to get away from her. I wandered and tried to keep a map but my drawing skills aren’t really up to snuff. I walked passed the stream followed it to a tree covered hill and attempted to climb it. The trees grew closer together here and I had trouble getting through them. The stream ran cleaner but not cooler. I drank until I was full and then moved around the hill.

I came across some more fruit and attempted to eat them. I’m not sure what they were but they tasted bitter and they were very stringy.

I found a different place to fish and dug out some more oysters. Ignoring their taste I ate them raw. Funny how just a week ago I would have turned my nose up at the thought of shellfish. Now I dream about that shit like it is Fillet Minion with crab and a bearnie .. bernnie .. ber – ah fuck it. Whatever you call that green sauce on top.

The day was coming to an end, so I walked back to camp. At least what I thought was camp. With my terrible sense of direction I went the wrong way. Ended up down the beach from my makeshift home.

The night rolled in and I was soon walking by the light of the moon. This sucked. If I didn't find my camp soon I would have to find somewhere to sleep because I was getting really tired.

I heard a splashing noise.

“Anyone there?” I called out knowing that there was probably just the body of her husband. Maybe he came loose and washed up on shore. Maybe he was lying within reach and one of the rocks was his bloated body.

I shuddered, turned away and made my way in the opposite direction.

I came across camp a few minutes later and plopped down behind my little home made tent and stared up at the stars. Bugs attacked me immediately going for every inch of exposed skin. I slapped at them as fast as I could but I know how this little battle ends. Me zip, bugs about a billion.

I heard a noise in the distance and wondered if a bird was nearby. I gathered up a couple of rocks and listened. Then I realized there was one sound I was not hearing and that was the sound of her.

I jumped to my feet and walked to the tree, hands held out before me in the dark. I felt around the base and only found a strand of broken rope.

Oh shit.

I heard a sound and leaped back, hit the little fence and went down hard. I was back on my feet in a second. I was sure I would be in pain from that spill in the morning.

 If I lived that long.

I crept back to my shelter and stood outside it for a while just staring into the darkness. I looked from corner to corner, shape to shape, and tree to tree. The moon was a sliver so it was hard to makeanything out. Every splash of water, every rustle of a leaf scared the crap out of me.

She would fall on me at any moment, attack and I would be too shocked to react. I was already exhausted from my walk around the island but my adrenalin was up and I had no chance of falling asleep.

After standing in place for about half an hour, I decided to light a fire and catch her when she shambled into camp. Not much of a trap, I know, but I had to do something instead of standing in place all night freaked out beyond belief.

I sparked up the fire with another precious strip of paper and one of the remaining matches. It caught quickly and I fed it wood until I had a cozy fire going. I stood off the side and waited for about an hour but she didn’t shamble into camp.

I still heard rustling near the trees but I hoped it was crabs or just a bunch of leaves rubbing together. I should investigate. If my breakfast was walking around I needed to gather them up. I started to make a torch a half dozen times but found a reason in the back of my head not too. What if she was waiting there, what if she was suddenly smart and planned a trap that starred me as the poor sap getting eaten instead of her dead husband.

An hour passed and my fear grew. She should have come back by now and tried to attack me. She has been drawn to fire every time I lit one. What was different now?

Went to the fire after another half hour and took out a long stick that was burning on the end. I took a few breathes and started walking around the camp area. Then I expanded my circuit until I was walking around what I thought of as the perimeter. Like I was Rambo, like I knew where the bad buys were. I don't have a bad-guy-o-meter in my head like they do in the movies. Instead I have a freak-me-the-fuck-out-meter. If I stood out here much longer I was probably going to die of fright. Any minute I expected her to jump out and attack me, latch her disgusting teeth onto my neck and tear it out like I have seen in the movies.

I was walking back and forth flinching at every shadow, flicker and breeze. She still didn’t lurch out at me.

I decided to investigate the area I heard the noises from and maybe score a crab or two. With the fire nice and hot they would cook up moist and juicy in a few minutes. I almost started drooling at the thought.

I moved into the little copse and got close to the ground so I could see one of the little guys. That’s when the hand touched my ankle.

I’m pretty sure I screamed like a six year old girl as I fell down again. My breath came fast and furious as I scrambled backwards. She had laid a trap for me. Bitch! After all I had done for her too.

“What’s wrong with you? What the hell is wrong with you? I take care of you, I clean you. Why would you do that to me?”

Then I came across her body and my words died in my throat. She was lying on her back with the rope wrapped around her body and one arm. The other reached for me. One of her legs was hooked over a branch the other was bent at the knee and hooked under her thigh. Her skirt was around her waist and it was the first thing I fixed. Then I unbent her leg and took the other off the branch and stretched them out rubbing the sand off.

She still had the gag around her mouth and her good eye was fixed on mine while she snapped behind the cloth. I did my best to straighten her clothes while she did her best to eat my arm. I helped her up and noticed she was starting to smell again. I would take her to the stream first thing in the morning and wash her off.

“I’m sorry baby, I shouldn’t have left you like that. That wasn’t cool.”

I felt terrible. Zombie or not I should take better care of her, I wouldn’t treat an enemy the way I was treating her. I took her back to the fire and sat her down. I tried to fix her hair but it was ratted and lank but not greasy like I expect mine is tonight. I bet she doesn’t have oil at all from her head, being dead and all.

“I’ll do better, baby, I will take care of you better than this. I know it is hard you know being dead and all but you deserve some common human decency.”

I felt bad about leaving her arms tied up but I put out the fire, laid her gently on her back and then tugged a small log over her feet. With her child like reflexes and lack of motor skills she wouldn’t go far. I felt sleepy for the first time that night. I lay there for a few minutes listening to her snarls behind the gag and then sang a soft song I remembered from one of my favorite bands. She quieted down and I did it again.

After that I closed my eyes and slept like a baby. 

...

Can't get enough Zombie Wilson? Why don't you head over to Amazon and purchase a copy! All proceeds go to the author's tequila and beer sanity fund. Thanks!

Old Diary Day 5 - My Girlfriend Doesn’t Talk Much

My Girlfriend Doesn’t Talk Much

I was so tired from running around with my new girl that I crashed without taking precautions last night. I woke and jerked upright, looked around for her, my mind freaked thinking she took a bite out of me during the night. Looked over my arms and chest in a rush, felt the skin for puncture marks. Then I noticed her where she fell the night before. Hadn't moved, but she was moving her arms and hands like she was swimming.

Fucking retard.

Hiked off to the stream and took a real bath. The morning was already muggy and hot so the water felt great. Used some sand to scrub my body clean as best I could. Wish I had some soap and shampoo. While I’m wishing for stuff, I guess I’ll wish for a burger and fries. God I’m hungry.

The hike back sucked because it was hotter which covered me in sweat by the time I got there. I wanted to stay at the stream all day but I needed to figure out how to get some food. Decided I would try to sharpen a stick and jab it into a fish. Saw that on TV show Survivorman once, he just threw it at the water and came up with something that flopped around on the end.

The sun was up and I crunched over dead vegetation. All I had were a pair of foam flip-flops, I

wonder how long they are going to last.

When I got to my little camp I saw that the stacks of wood I had prepared for the signal fire were scattered everywhere. Looks like she tried to crawl over it. She was lying across a log with her ass in the air, skirt almost torn off.

Great.

I grabbed her ankle and dragged her away from the wood and pointed her toward the water. She snapped at me the entire time, turning her head back and forth as if she could reach me. She has shapely legs. Too bad they're gray and covered in gunk.

Don’t think about the gunk! Don’t think about the gunk!

Wonder if I can give her a bath.

I chatted the entire time I dragged her away from the wood. Asked her name, what she did for a living. Asked if she liked guys like me at all, guys that don’t have buckets of money and actually have to work for a living. Not like the chuckle-head she was with on the plane.

It wasn’t that long ago I was just a perv ogling her from the back of the plane.  Stupid plane! I know that pilot was drunk. So I told her all about the crash.

It started with the pilot. Everyone called him Mooney at the resort and his shorts hung so low in the back I had to wonder if that was how he got his name.

Mooney wandered onto the plane, bumped into the wall, then smiled and nodded at the stewardess. His walk was sort of a weave as he made his way to the cockpit and shut the door. I hoped he wasn’t too sick. I knew he wasn’t drunk because pilots aren’t allowed to drink before they fly.

The stewardess was new. She didn’t smile much but she did set up the few passengers with drinks early on. Come to think of it, where was she on the first flight? I guess the additional people on the plane called for a stewardess.

The only interesting part of getting on the plane was this hot girl that got on with this huge guy. She was short but cute as all get out with a figure to kill for. She had big perky boobs that poked out of a low cut blouse. Her skirt was so short I got a glimpse of her upper thighs when she sat down. She laughed at the guy she was with, a lot. Then they ordered drinks and that was that. A few more passengers got on but for the most part it was just me in the crap section and the rich snobs in the front.

I watched her from the back. She kept her attention on him so I got to check her out every

time she got up to summon the stewardess for more little bottles of booze or run to the bathroom. She laughed at his every joke and he wheezed like an asthmatic clown without the makeup.

He opened his bag and dug out a big gold bottle that looked like Cristal. I’m pretty sure that’s what the gold bottle was filled with. Asshole. He sucked it down like it was water. Probably has as much money as god and with a hot chick like that at his side … I wish I could sit around and drink a $200 bottle of bubbly grape juice

It was about twenty minutes later when the plane bounced up and down a few times. I didn’t think it was a big deal until we started tilting forward. I'm no pilot but a plane with its ass in the air is a bad thing.

I looked outside long enough to see the engine on the right side sputter then spit smoke and bird feathers. Then it belched fire. Oh shit! Fire. Plane. Engine. This was not good, not good at all!

I can't explain my next action. For the life of me I don't know what I was thinking.

I started tossing back booze like there was no tomorrow.

Come to think of it there was no tomorrow! I guess if I couldn’t die screwing I could settle for dying half drunk. So I guzzled cheap booze and hoped it would hit my brain before we hit the water and exploded into a million pieces.

There was loud swearing from the front as the pilot tried to level out the plane. We hit anyway. The noise was like dropping into hell. A half second of silence and then screams from a woman. Looking back I think it was ME screaming. Stuff flew everywhere and I tasted salt water. Then I was in water.

I think being in the back saved me. I remember when we struck but I blacked out. When I came to, I was spitting water and gasping for breath.

It was dark, almost night– guess I lost track of time. Smashing into the ocean will do that to you. I was still pretty buzzed and unsure if I had blacked out an hour or a minute. I was holding onto my seat cushion and there was fire and parts all around me. I floated for a while and slowly sobered up. I called out over and over. “Are there any survivors?” but no one answered.

I floated for a long time, and wondered if a shark was going to come along and eat my skinny white butt. I saw the beginning of Jaws over and over in my head.

The water was warm but not like a bathtub. I wondered if I should be concerned with hypothermia. At least the seat was good at keeping me afloat. I bet I could float on it for week. My hands and arms were getting sore. I had to keep moving them around to keep the feeling in them.

I was alone, in the dark and I had no idea which way to go. I kicked my legs behind me and hoped for the best. If I didn’t find land or a fishing boat soon, I didn't know what I was going to do. There were no sounds except the water that lapping against me as I swam.

The moon was barely visible behind a cloud. The cloud moved on but another one took its place. I picked the moon as my destination and started kicking toward it.

I've never had so much exercise in my life. Kicking, kicking, and more kicking. I bobbed like a top even as I tried to push forward. I couldn't tell if I was making any progress at all. It was all float, swim, float, swim, float swim until I couldn't move my legs anymore.

I floated like this for hours and even closed my eyes a couple of times. Didn't help much, as soon as I felt like I was drifting off water would wake me or the stuff would go into my ear.

Later I hung in the sea like a corpse. I bet my skin looked like a prune. My balls were shriveled up and felt like they were inside my gut. I had to wonder how long I could live like this when my feet touched sand. At first I jerked them up because I thought it was a fish or shark underneath me. Then I looked up and saw familiar shapes. Trees!

I touched the bottom again and then walked forward until I found the shore. I wept in relief and then threw up about thirty times. Old food, burning booze and sea water made a disgusting afterbirth.

I dragged myself up and out of the water and then up along the beach, collapsed against a plant of some sort and then crashed hard. Like I said the first day here. Screw you, paradise.

…

Later I walked back to the wood and stacked it up again. I don’t know how I will light the fire when I see a plane or boat. Probably have to use my shirt. Or her clothes.

That might not look right. Stuck on the island and I burn the girls clothes instead of mine. Still, with that body, even the gray skin– I mean she was hot a day ago …

Holy shit - I am losing it!

She crawled across the sand, followed me as I built up the fire signal again. I felt bad about the bugs so I sat on her back again, leaned on the side of her head when she tried to bite me and used a shell I found on the beach to dig out the eggs with the sharp end. That eye was all white and dried up but the other one was okay. The little things squirmed, the ones that had hatched, so I took them back to the camp and held the shell near the fire until they were black. I figured if I cooked the hell out of them I would cook out whatever zombie virus might be in them.

They tasted so bad that I almost threw up. I couldn't even swallow them. I spit them out and then freaked because of the virus. What was I thinking? There was no telling how it spreads. I would have to wait the whole day now to see if I changed into a zombie.

I washed my mouth out with some water and sand and then headed to the beach.

The spear theory was shit. Caught a bunch of nothing but I noticed a little bubble rising so I stuck my head under the water and looked around until I spotted a gray and black shell. Oysters! I found three and cooked them until they opened. Each had a tiny pearl which I set aside then I gobbled the meat down like they were a rib eye steak. I never cared much for shell fish but these had me back in the ocean looking for more so fast it would make your head spin.

I had collected a few more when I heard a noise behind me. I spun around and she had her upper body in the water. Oh god, she was going to drown! She had wiggled across the sand, towards my diving spot, while I was hunting oysters.

I grabbed her ankle and dragged her out again and flipped her over.

Her face was blue and water gurgled out of her mouth and nose. Her white dried up eye looked better wet. Her one good blue eye followed my movement as I dropped down and pressed on her chest. More water squirted out in a geyser and she snarled at me.

“I’m not trying to get it on with you. Gross!” I complained.

She snarled again. This was getting ridiculous.

No worse for wear I left her there and took my oysters back to the camp. Stoked up the fire and cooked them. I saved the pearls again. Maybe I’ll make her a necklace. That will look good when the rescuers arrive and see that I took good care of her.

It’s getting late so I guess I’ll go to sleep. Tomorrow I plan to make a rope and tie her to something.

I can still hear her flopping around on the beach. I hope she doesn’t figure out how to stand up in the night. I better go check the barricade again. 

...

Can't get enough Zombie Wilson? Why don't you head over to Amazon and purchase a copy! All proceeds go to the author's tequila and beer sanity fund. Thanks!

Old Diary Day 1 to 3 - Screw You Paradise!

Screw You, Paradise!

Hi Diary! I should have started this when I got to the resort but I was too busy working and drinking margaritas. They went down like heaven in the heat. Not just heat but humidity. The minute I stepped off the plane I was soaked to the bone. It was great at first now I just want to soak in a bath tub filled with ice.

So let me recap.

Day 1. Arrived in paradise.

Day 2. Crashed all over paradise.

Christ. Every muscle in my body hurts. I woke up like that. Wet and in pain. The sun was a blast of hell that ripped the skin right off my body. I can’t believe what has happened over the last few days. I mean this was supposed to be a simple job in a vacation wonderland. All I had to do was look over a resort and make sure they weren’t skimming money.

Instead my plane crashed and the ocean puked me up on a deserted island.

My old Casio watch died in the water, so I pried the bottom off and inspected it. No water in there but it was still dead as a doornail. I tied it to a branch and walked away. No sense in keeping the thing, so I used it as an ornament. Besides what do I need a clock for? The sun is up so it must be daytime. I’m a real genius.

The trees grew tall and had big old palm looking leaves on them like you see in pictures of the islands I have seen countless times. The islands ... where the hell did I think I was? Freaking Disney Land?

About twenty feet away sat a beautiful white beach. I found my cushion from the crash and carried it to an area that looked like a good place to sleep. The trees closed in like a little room and then opened into a space about ten feet square. There was a lot of dead vegetation but I pulled some of it aside and found sand underneath.

Maybe I can collect some palm leaves and make a bed.

I wandered along the beach and marveled at the beautiful location. The crystal clear water, the warm sand, the early morning humidity, and the fact that I was still alive. I had to sit down and take a few breaths. I said a brief prayer to god, if he was listening to me way out in the middle of nowhere. I lay back on the warm sand, closed my eyes for a minute and inhaled the humidity.

It was exhausting. I felt like I was in a sauna. I sure hope I can find help, assuming there are others around. This can’t be a deserted island. Is there really such a thing? It’s the year 2010 and we must have every square inch of the world mapped by now. Right? Fucking google maps has pictures of islanders crapping on places like this so it can’t be deserted. I just have to find the inhabitants.

I got up and walked to the water and stared at it and stared at it some more. I studied the horizon for a while, watched the waves roll in from far away. They crashed onto the beach then the water rolled back out. Repeat. It was so natural that I almost expected to see a surfer out on the water.

Where did I come up on the shore last night? The way the water was hitting the surf I couldn’t tell because it had washed away all signs of my tracks.

Hunger gnawed at my stomach again and I realized for the first time that I had nothing to eat. I knew from watching documentaries that I had to find water before anything else. If I didn’t have water I would die. A body can supposedly go a long time without food but not the wet stuff. I sure hope I don’t have to find out just how long.

 I studied the palm trees but didn’t see any fruit like coconut or pineapple. Walked along the edge of the woods until I saw a small stream of water and tasted it with a cautious tongue. It was warm but crystal clear, so I took a few more sips. It was a tiny trickle and I kept getting silty stuff in my mouth, so I followed it to a pool.

A sheet of water flowed down from the side of a mountain, which I could see in the distance. Then it formed a small waterfall before hitting a curved cliff about ten feet high. The water came down in several streams and filled the pool that extended in four or five directions.

I drank my fill and decided it was time to find some food. A little on the job training was in order if I was going got become a survivalist. The problem was I had no idea how to find my own food but how hard can it be? People have been doing it for thousands of years. I bet if I make a spear I can toss it at the brush and hit something warm and delicious.

I set out for the beach and scanned the area for some small animals or fruit to eat. I looked for crabs but didn’t come across any. I then searched for wild animals in the bushes. Nothing. Probably wild boar in the woods. Not sure how to stop them. The spear idea sounds good.

I wandered along the shore and found a stick that was relatively straight. I was lucky enough to still have the pocketknife with me, a Swiss army one to be exact. It had a blade, scissors and a file. I started cutting at the tip but the wood was soft from being in the water. I strolled along the shoreline and looked for another stick when I saw a shape on the ground.

I rushed to the body with a gasp. Another survivor. I hoped it was a survivor and not a corpse. When I reached the form, I saw that it was a woman. She was lying curled up in a ball next to some kind of flower. It had little blue berries hanging near a bright colored center. It also had serrated looking edges to the long leaves that curled upward. It was pretty in a vicious way, like a tulip made for killing small animals.

I turned her over and her mouth was full of the little berries AND foam AND blood AND I think sea water. It was so gross! She gagged around them, so I flipped her over and hit her back a few times. Figured they were just stuck in her throat. She did gag them out and turned her head and tried to bite me! What the hell? Why was this chick trying to bite me when all I wanted to do was help?

I jerked back and she sort of flopped onto her knees then fell to the ground.

“You okay?” I asked her over and over but she didn’t answer. In fact, she didn’t move.

I grabbed her around the waist and lifted her up, then did the Heimlich maneuver. I tried to be polite and not feel her boobs through the silky shirt she was wearing but they were kind of in the way. A big wad of stuff flew out of her mouth.

She was ice cold. I backed away and she turned toward me, slowly. Her lips pulled back from her teeth and she snarled. I took her wrist, felt for a pulse but didn’t find one. She staggered toward me. I moved back and around her. Then I touched her neck and managed to leave my finger there for a couple of seconds before she tried to bite me. What the hell was wrong with this chick?

“Hold on, jeez, I’m not going to feel you up!”

 She didn’t seem to hear me. She kept snapping her teeth like she hadn’t had a bite to eat in days. I was starving, too, but I didn't try to take a bite out of her!

I held her back, my hand on her chest and tried not touch her breasts but hey, things happen, right diary? In all honesty I wasn’t looking to cop a feel, I just wanted to stop her from trying to bite me. That’s when I noticed something quite scary.

She had no heart beat. What the hell?!

We did a weird dance as she tried to bite me and I tried to see if she was alive. I backed off and rubbed my hands on my shirt. She came toward me one slow step at a time but I kept backing up. I almost fell down as my heels hit a rock in the sand.

I realized that this was the girl from the plane. The one with the big guy, the hot chick in the tiny skirt that flashed her legs and cleavage. I looked at her matted blonde hair and blue eyes– strike that, eye since the other was white and oversized like a sponge trapped in water.

Her skin should be pink, or maybe white from being in the water and perhaps catching a chill. But it wasn’t. It was gray. Like putrid gray, like something that isn’t fucking alive gray. Oh Jesus, diary, I was about ready to freak the hell out. I wanted to run away from her and find some help or a gun or something.

She staggered toward me like she was drunk and for half a second I thought maybe that was the whole problem. She got boozed up on the plane and now she was recovering from spending all night in the ocean like me. Sure, that explained the lack of a pulse, dead puffy eyes and gray skin.

I couldn’t really process what was happening, so I headed back to camp. My head was in a fog like I had overslept. I wasn't sure what to do so I went to find the closest thing I have to a home.

She staggered past my hiding spot and kept on going.

I started building the barricade later that night. 


...

Can't get enough Zombie Wilson? Why don't you head over to Amazon and purchase a copy! All proceeds go to the author's tequila and beer sanity fund. Thanks!

New Day 6 - Ooga Booga

I always liked that scene in Dances with Wolves where Kevin Costner meets the natives for the first time. He invites them in for coffee with tons of sugar and a friendship is born. It is really touching that he can reach out across a vast gulf of translation and bridge it with sugar.

I should be so lucky.

The day was just as boring as every other day. I could write all about my activities, from the first morning shit to finding a new tree full of coconuts. I cut them down and then pissed on the tree. Take that stupid tree full of my most hated food.

It was around – oh, I don’t know. An hour close to sunset when they arrived and found me in a very compromising situation.

I had cut Eileen from the tree earlier and let her wander around. She got touchy-feely with me a few times but with the gag she wasn’t much of a threat. Sort of like fending off a blind old man who is gumming for you.

Wait a minute, why didn’t I think of this before? I could just remove their teeth and then I wouldn’t have to worry about being bitten, right? If they can’t bite then I can’t die and come back like them. I can’t join the tribe of undead. I won’t be stuck wandering the island until I fall into a pit or get eaten by something that has big teeth.

I’m an idiot! Of course!

It's not like they would feel it. They don't have to worry about chewing on gummy bears. They don't need teeth at all.

I didn’t waste time. I grabbed a rock and my knife. I would have to do this quick. If I stopped to think about it I would probably give up.

I grabbed Eileen and tripped her so she fell on her desiccated behind. Pushing her chest down, I sat on her stomach and opened my mouth so I didn’t have to breath in her smell which was quickly going from dirty-you-need-a-bath-dear. To Rank-ass-dead-chick smell. She reached for me but I batted her hands aside. When she didn’t stop I lifted her up and put her hands under her body then sat back down.

I guess on any other woman this might be kind of hot. Sitting on her with her hands secure, doing what I want with her. But in this case it was anything but sexy.

I pried her mouth open and slipped the knife in. I set it on one tooth just off center and looked at the rock. She moved her head and the knife shifted so I had to re center it.

“This might sting a little.” I smiled and then drove the rock into the end of the knife. It did the trick but it also drove the tip into her cheek and then through it. Oops! Sorry about that. 

The tooth fell into her mouth but there was no way I was fishing it out. Sticking my hands in there was a death trap. I put the knife on another tooth but she didn’t flinch. Did she even feel it? I have to admit that I cringed as I lined up the weight of the rock.

She moved again and I ended up on the other side of her mouth but still on the top row. I got in one nice swing and managed not to drive the knife through that side of her face. Way to go me! I may not have a future in dentistry but at least she only needed cosmetic surgery on one cheek.

Her tongue moved around in her dry mouth like she was playing with the teeth. I guess I would have to get some sea water later on and rinse her out. 

Another tooth and she was starting to look like a beaver. I sat back to admire my handy work and laughed at her. I couldn’t help it. I sat all the way up on her chest now so I could hold her head between my knees.

I got another tooth and then worked over the first few, reaching in with tip of the blade and digging out as much broken tooth as I could. It wouldn’t do to have a tiny piece nick me in the middle of the night.

It was in this position that they found me.

Now, I would like to say that it went down just like it did for Kevin Costner. That we met, exchanged gifts, they rode off and a few weeks later we were best friends.

It didn’t happen like that at all.

My girl was freaking out a little over at her spot, tied to the tree, eyes fixed on me like I was a six piece McNugget meal. She had been quiet but now she was freaking out. Hooting and hollering around her gag like she was on fire. If I didn’t know any better I would have thought a spider was down her shirt. Not that I would help out there. Sticking my hand under her dirty bra was NOT in the cards.

A body stepped from behind a tree like it had been part of it. I dropped the knife and stood up so fast I thought I was going to fall back over since my legs were partially asleep.

Another figure appeared and then another. I don’t know if they meant to impress me or scare the shit out of me. I felt both so I guess their plan worked.

One of the figures moved toward me. He was a large man with some black tribal tattoos on his massive arms. He was wearing a necklace made of giant sea shells and If I wasn’t mistaken, a flower pretty close to the one that started this whole zombie mess in the first place. It was much as I remembered but it appeared to be dried out.

He said some words that sounded angry to me. The others, men and women, looked at the body on the ground in front of me, then at my girl tied to a tree. One of the women dropped to her knees and pressed her knuckled fists to her eyes.

The guy kept coming toward me and he looked mad. He was saying something over and over but I wasn’t sure what he meant. In the interest of foreign relations I started repeating my name over and over.

He ignored my attempts and broke into a long line of gibberish that made some of the others drop to their knees as well. I stared from head to head and wondered what had gotten into them. Two were women one young and the other much older. She had gray hair and a creased face like an old leather jacket that was left folded in half.

The other girl was my age or a little younger. She wore a tiny scrap of clothing that left her shoulder, barely covered her boobs, and then stretched about half way down her thighs. I must admit, after this long with only dead girls to look at, I was more than a little pervy with my eyes.

The guy stopped in front of me and looked me up and down. He stared down at the girl and then leaned over to pick up the knife. Oh sweet Jesus. He was going to stab me with the thing! I started pleading for my life while he looked the blade over then leaned over to study the girl. The others remained on their knees and chanted. One of the other men was shaved bald but had a white triangle on one side of his head. He was young, probably just a teen but he carried a spear and I was willing to bet he was better with it than I would be even if I used one everyday for the next ten years.

The large guy looked down at Eileen. He studied her and then leaned over and picked up a piece of her broken tooth. She had her eyes glued to him the whole time and her mouth opened and closed. Her two broken teeth – make that three. The last blow had snapped another one on the left.

He said something in a language I still did not understand. He kept repeating a phrase over and over that sounded something like “Ooga Booga”.

I shook my head and then stood up. Eileen thought it was time for her to get up. She tried to move her arms from under her body so I put one foot on her hand held her in place. I guess I looked like some hunter or something.

He smiled at me, then and gave me a new look as if in respect. That’s right. I am the man here. I know how to keep these zombie girls in line and if they get out of line I just tie them to something. Sure. That’s how it works.

He said that phrase again then motioned toward her head with both hands cupped. Then he put his hands by his waist and thrust his hips back and forth as if doing something to a ball. No. Not a ball. He looked down at her head again, smiled and clapped me on the back so hard I almost fell down.

Wait! Wait! That’s not what I was planning at all! Oh Christ …

At least one of them has a name now. The big one, I plan to call him Ooga Booga.

I sure hope I can make sense of this tomorrow. For now, they have started a fire away from me and they are cooking something that smells delicious. I plan to visit them in a few minutes and see if I can beg something to eat. 

New Day 5 - Welcome to the Party

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.

Day 4 - Uninvited Guests

Uninvited Guests

I’m not sure what to make of all the activity last night. I started hearing noises as night fell and assumed it was some animals. The girls were restless and moaned against their gags. Their eyes followed me as I walked around the tiny camp. They may see me as a porterhouse with mushrooms and a side of merlot. But I like my rare ass uncooked and uneaten than you very much.

It started around oh-look-it-is-getting-dark thirty. The sun did that thing where it falls over the horizon and creates a stunning backdrop. The kind of thing you put on a vacation poster and show your clients at a travel agent office. You point at it and show your lover how wonderful it will be. Oh look baby, we can lay on the beach, drink margaritas and watch the sun fall. Then we can go back to our bungalow and jump around like spider monkeys before doing the nasty and passing out. Oh happy day!

Screw you paradise!

If I had, I don’t know, a live girl and some food to eat (NOT SEAFOOD!) I might be in a better mood. As it stands I can’t even look at my Zombie-Wilson without getting the urge to bash in her useless head. Her and that stewardess.  Why didn’t she listen when I told her to leave my girl alone.

She’s got that stare again, that dead look in her eyes. Christ! Why do I keep them alive?

I know, Diary, I know. Without them as a slight link to humanity I’m pretty much screwed. I can talk to a coconut I suppose. Paint a face on it and say Hi every morning. Maybe write it a sonnet and promise to whisk it away from all the hubbub of island life someday. But that won’t pay the bills when I get home. I need my girl so the world can see a real zombie. I need her alive so I can get rich!

So anyway, I heard some noises and sat around wondering if someone had finally come to rescue me. It seemed unlikely since I had been stuck out here for so long without the slightest human that was among the living. No boats or planes had been by. No helicopters making criss-cross paths. What the hell was I paying all this tax money for if the US Government can’t get their shit together lone enough to go looking for a missing citizen?

I got up and walked along the shoreline. There was a bunch of nothing, like usual. A whole bunch of it every direction I looked. Nope. No rescuers there. Just a bunch of humidity and bugs chirping away in the jungle.

So I walked a little farther and I could have sworn I heard wood clanking together. It was getting dark and it was too late to make out anything but big shapes in the twilight where the trees rose all around. I wanted to keep the fire in view. If I lost track of my base and darkness really fell I might never find my way back.  Then I would have to spend the night in the jungle. It may offer fun and games but I KNOW I am not welcome.

I walked along with the skills in silent walking I had learned on the first island. That is, I hit pretty much every stump, broken branch, fallen palm tree and loose rock on the entire goddamn island. I cursed every curse word I knew but quietly, under my breath. See, I’m learning.

I came to a break in the trees and saw a light in the distance. I looked back the way I had come but didn’t see much of my fire, barely a flicker. It could have been a firefly for all I knew. Oh great. Looks like I am going to be doing a lot of walking tonight after all.

I edged along the little path until I came to a huge rock. There was light all around in the distance so I moved as carefully as I could and only managed to hit three or four branches.

Voices! Movement! Noises! I was frozen in place, stuck like a lizard that suddenly attracts a predator. What if I had visitors on the island? What if they weren’t nice visitors that want to take me home?

What if they were cannibals?

Pffft. I could show them a couple of real man-eaters!

I stuck my head up, ever so slowly, until I could see over the rock. It was like looking into the sun. There was a huge ball of flame in the form of a bon fire and a bunch of half naked people dancing around. Men and women. They were dressed a lot like the islanders that had visited me on my first tropical get away. They wore shorts and no tops. Some had tribal shapes painted on their bodies and if I wasn’t seeing things there were even a pair of women. Real ones!

I was saved! I was saved at last! And they had real live women!

I could march into the firelight, proclaim that I was a lost survivor of a plane crash and that I needed to get home. They would stop dancing and welcome me! They would offer me food, fresh fruit, maybe some sort of meat cooked to perfection over their massive fire. Maybe one of them was a former culinary chef and he had a side of pork dripping with grease and pineapple chunks. I was suddenly starving, saliva flooded my mouth and I thought I was going to drool all over the rock.

But wait! What about my girl, I mean girls? What would I do with them? What would the islanders do?

Shit! Shit! SHIT!!! I would have to hide the girls and come back in the morning. I would have to make sure they weren’t discovered. And what if they wanted to stay on the island for a while? What then? Would they discover my zombie chicks or even the body of the dead pilot?

I stood for a long time, salvation just feet away and I knew that I couldn’t walk into their firelight. I couldn’t reveal myself just yet. I had to plan this out. I muttered to myself as I left my would be rescuers.

I wandered back to the camp in a daze and lay down in the darkness. The fire had smoldered to almost nothing. I dropped a small damp branch on and let it smoke away. The girls did their moan and groan shuffle while I tossed and turned. It was hours in the dark before I fell asleep on my uncomfortable bed. But just before I drifted off a plan had formed in my mind. As soon as dawn arrived I would put it into effect.
...

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Day 6 - My Girlfriend Likes To Be Tied Up

My Girlfriend Likes To Be Tied Up

Woke to the sound of an airplane overhead.

I flew off my palm tree mattress, stood up and took two stumbling steps before I tripped over her. She must have spent all night wiggling around the little barricade. If I had slept another half hour she would have had me. One bite and then we would be the perfect zombie couple. They'd find us and name us dumb and dumber.

I reared back to kick her but she turned her head and looked at me with that one good eye just as blue as a summer day and I felt– well I felt a sense of pity for her undead ass.

Need to make a rope today and tie her to something.

So the plane **Dee Plane, Dee Plane** flew overheard and I was jumping up and down like a maniac, screaming at the sky like I was the retard instead of her. I ran for the fire wood but she had scattered it all over the place in the night.

Alright! Now she is just fucking with me!

The plane flew off into the distance and it was suddenly quiet again except for my stomach which decided to growl like a chainsaw. Guess I’d start with some high fiber fruit and then try and dig up some oysters later. There was a weird blob of fish that looked like a big limp penis in the shallow water. I don’t know if I can cook it but what the hell, beats starving to death.

I built up the wood stack again and stomped around - generally miserable. She hissed at me every time I went past her but that’s okay. She can’t figure out how to stand up and give chase. I scowled at her and she looked at me with that blank stare. Her gums look a little black today and her teeth are defiantly turning green. I should bring some clean water and try to scrub her down.

That reminds me, she smells like death. Well, what death would smell like if I had ever been near it I suppose. She kind of smells like meat left out too long. I wonder how long until I run out of food and she starts looking like a steak.

“Want anything while I’m at the stream?” I asked her. She moaned and hissed again.

“Fine, no fruit for you.” I smacked her ass as I strolled away. Showed her ...

There seemed to be more water today, I should really follow the stream and see where it leads. Maybe I am on the back end of some tropical get away, lost, starving and some rich assholes are on the other side of the island, living it up. Maybe they have Mai-Tais, grilled steaks, French fries! Oh my god, I need some real food. On my way back I looked all around for something to use as a rope. There were no vines hanging from the trees, just leaves. I tore some down and studied how flexible they were. Wound one up and pulled on it. Then I took down another one and wound them together. Who would have imagined these long, green leaves could be so useful?

Never took basket weaving, never was a boy scout and I never joined the Navy, although I learned how to crochet as a kid. That lonely summer when Grandmother taught me. You don’t let your grandmother down, diary, you just don’t.

I collected a pile of leaves and carried them back. Found a pretty red flower growing in the shade of a palm tree and added it to my pile. If nothing else I should be able to decorate my living space.

I got back and she had crawled onto my little sleeping area and made a mess of it. That would take a while to fix. Okay, enough of this. I sat on the other side of the barricade which wasn’t really much of a fence. I worked the branches back and forth to keep the fence in place but if she ever goes at it with force she will break through it in a few minutes. I’m glad she isn’t that motivated.

I plopped down on the other side of the fence and she started crawling toward me again. It’s like she doesn’t get how her arms can help her move, she just slithers like a big gray snake. I had plenty of time before she got near me. Her good eye looks a little dry today wish she would blink it from time to time.

I should bring some water back for her so I can wet it. That reminds me that if I can cover her mouth she might be more cooperative, well at least she won’t be able to bite me.

I worked on my rope for a few hours and ate the fruit I left out to dry last night. A few small bugs on one meant some extra protein. I don’t even notice it anymore and I used to be grossed out by insects.

The rope was strong when I got done with it. I yanked on the thing and then stood up and put my foot on one end against the ground and pulled. Looks like this will hold up nicely, at least until they dry out and fall apart.

I moved around her as she tried to snap at me. I dropped onto her back and tried to ignore the smell. Jesus! I hadn’t needed my shirt thanks to the heat, so I tore the bottom off. It took a few tries to get the cloth around her neck and into her mouth without getting bitten.

Gagged and for now somewhat harmless, I lifted her to her feet and watched her try to keep her balance. She snarled and snapped at me over the cloth. I looped the rope around her throat and set off with her close behind only she didn’t take well to her leash and fell flat on her face when I pulled too hard.

Oh crap.

I had to wrestle her stinky ass back on her feet again and decided to tie the rope around her waist.

With a tug she nearly fell again. Then I got an idea.

I let the slack out and moved away to the end of the and yelled at her. She raised her arms toward me and moaned under her muffled gag then stumbled after me. Can’t believe I have to play follow the leader.

I lead her to the stream, at least the end away from where I like to bathe and gather water. Then came the delicate art of removing her clothes while she batted and snarled at me. She was wearing a really frilly white bra that spilled out a large pair of breasts when I tugged it down. Well good for her!

Too bad they are as cold as ice and mottled gray.

Too bad indeed.

The rest of her clothes came off. I tossed her panties because they were just nasty. I don’t even want to think about what they looked like let alone write about it. Oh god, cleaning down there should be fun only I wanted to throw up.

She kept turning as I bathed her, doing the bob and snap dance. I washed her down with her silky shirt before putting it back on. It’s see-through and helps off set the color of her skin. Her skirt went back on and hung limply around her waist, making a wet slapping noise as I led her back to camp.

I think I am getting used to being hungry, the constant gnawing ache. Sometimes my skin feels cold and clammy even though it is hot and muggy. I saw a bird rifling through my stuff when I got back but I was too slow to get him. I picked up a rock and threw it like I was aiming for home plate. It flew under him as he soared into the sky with a squawk.

I bet he would have tasted like chicken.

Tomorrow I will try to build a snare. Maybe I can have a little KFC. I wonder how I will build a snare. Jesus. I don’t even know what a snare looks like.

I tied her to a tree and went oyster diving again. Found one of those long things that looks like a penis hanging out of a shell. It smelled terrible but I’m gonna cook it in some coconut milk in the shell. Maybe I can choke it down that way.

When I got out of the water I saw that she had managed to wrap herself around the tree so she was facing it, rope tightly around her body. It took a while to get her untied and one of the starfish I pulled out tried to get away while I worked at her rope.

It’s late and I can barely keep my eyes open. The fire is stoked up nice and high. She doesn’t sleep but I thought it would be nice to give her a little freedom so I left the knot on the tree loose. Now she is walking in circles. Her clothes look clean and her hair is actually nice tonight, not too badly matted. Put the red flower behind her ear but now it is just hanging there limp and dead.

She is like a little zombie carousel. Just watching her makes me sleepy. Round and around she goes, if she manages to get loose, away I’ll go.

...

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