The Zombie Wilson Diaries

2011-07-20T15:30:00.000-07:00

Hi Friends! Please swing by the new page at:

You can find samples from the newly released 'redead' version of The Zombie Wilson Diaries. I am also posting audio chapters of the book as I have time. The first 5 days are now online.

I recently rereleased The Zombie Wilson Diaries as a .99 kindle ebook. Crazy? I like to think so!

Not only that but you can read my newest book Wacktards of the Apocalypse.

Thank you for stopping by the blog!

Welcome to The Zombie-Wilson Diaries!!

2010-08-20T17:00:00.000-07:00

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

2010-08-20T12:42:00.000-07:00

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

2010-08-20T09:18:00.001-07:00

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!

2010-08-20T05:30:00.001-07:00

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

2010-08-20T05:15:00.000-07:00

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

2010-08-20T05:10:00.000-07:00

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

2010-08-20T05:00:00.000-07:00

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

2010-08-02T09:18:00.000-07:00

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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9 - My girlfriend likes to play with herself

2010-08-02T00:15:00.000-07:00

My Girlfriend Likes To Play With Herself

She didn’t give up on the arm. She kept gnawing away like it was a hunk of prime rib. Saliva squirted into my mouth when I thought of the last time I had eaten a good steak. I tried to think of the star fish and oysters as if they were a decent meal but after a week on this cursed island it’s all I can do to choke them down no matter how hungry I get.

I tied her up again but she ignored me and went back to gnawing. She was no longer tearing big chunks out. She was just muzzling the bones and meat like a… well like a dog.

I spent the day working on my hut to be. I laid a foundation of palm leaves and branches, built them up so they were a few inches off the sand. I have been assaulted nightly by all kinds of bugs and things that bite in the night. With any luck the little bastards won't be able to get me when I'm off the ground.

My idea of building a house like a tri-fold enclosure is paying off. I wove leaves all day to create the walls and ceiling. When I was done, I had something I could lay under. I stretched out and watched her stare at her prize. She didn’t move for a long time and I wondered if she was thinking about anything.

Zombies don’t think, though, they don’t feel and they don’t talk. I know the stories, the movies, but seeing one this close is something different all together. First of all she is cold to the touch so if you think I am enjoying her running around in what is left of her clothes you are wrong. Her skin is gray and mottled. It looks like some really bad spackle on the side of a house. She only has one good eye, the other is dead and looks like a white almond.

The worst part is that she had been chewing on dead meat all night and day. I don’t even want to think about where it goes or how it gets back out. It's not like she can take a crap. For all I know the stuff she has been chowing down on is just sitting in her stomach, rotting. That's probably what makes her breath so foul that I have to sit upwind.

And now she has a strip of skin stuck in her teeth and no idea how to get it out. She has been chewing at the thing all morning. It just bounces off her chin as she snaps at it over and over again. I bet she has tried to get that thing a hundred times already. Her one good eye stares down at it but she can’t seem to get her hands to do anything like pull the skin off her broken teeth.

I was busy making the hut when she fell on her face from trying to get the meat. She had reared back, slowly and then let her mouth snap shut against air. She moved quicker than I have seen her move before and because of this she ended up on the ground.

I took the opportunity to stop working on the hut and find some smaller leaves. I got on her back again, trying to ignore the smell, the cold skin, the clothes that were covered in dried blood. I tilted her head to the side as she snarled at me and used the leaves to pull the skin out from between her teeth. It was a long piece that was white and putrid. Spoiled and nasty.

I know when the rescue boat arrives and they read my diary they will have trouble coming to grips with some of the things I had to do to the girl but I promise I did everything as humanely as possible.

I tore part of her skirt off and wrapped it around her mouth. I’m still afraid of her bite.

I left her on the ground and went back to work on the hut. She rolled around and managed to get her hands trapped under her body and then bounced up and down like she was humping them.

It looked like she was playing with herself. The snarls and grunts didn’t help.

It rained later so I took off my clothes and rubbed down with some sand as best I could. She looked at me blankly and continued thrusting her body up and down. So I decided to treat it like a vote of approval and did a little dance for her.

I dug out some oysters later and even tried to spear a fish. This ended in failure about fifty times, but on the last I missed a large fish but managed to spear a small red one that thrashed around after I brought it out of the water.

I nearly ran back to camp to show her what I had caught. I hooted and hollered but she just rocked back and forth on her hands. After watching her for a few minutes I slipped my hands under her waist and pulled her up to her feet. She steadied herself and turned her head ever so slowly to look at me with that one blue eye. I scraped a couple of maggots of her other eye and I must say it was a downright romantic moment.

Until she snarled at me and bit against the gag like she was going to rip my nose off. I backed away and sat on a rock and watched her walk to the end of the rope and then strain against it no more than three feet from me. Her eye crinkled up in rage, well the good one did, and she reached for me with those hands that were now covered in sand, dried blood and chunks of her husband’s skin.

This is ridiculous. I should just kill her.

“Should I kill you, babe?”

Snarl.

“Should I take you out and leave you in the water, point you away from the island and then swim away?”

Snarl.

“Maybe hang you from a tree and set you on fire? Do you think a boat or plane will see that?”

Snarl.

These one-sided conversations were getting on my nerves. But she is my Wilson so it is my obligation to chat with her. Tell her my problems. Tell her how I feel about stuff. Show her a good time on the island, walk her from one end to the other. All the stuff a couple should do.

I cooked the fish and tossed her the raw fins. She stared at them from her tree where she had managed to wrap herself up again. She howled against the gag and reached for me with one arm. I got a stick and pushed one of the fins toward her. She watched me, not the stick, not the fin. She kept her eye on me and a gross pink bubbling fluid leaked out of her mouth. I stopped in mid chew and fought to keep my stomach calm. I wanted to turn and throw up. I knew that if I did that I would have to re-eat the stuff because I am so low on food. Managed to keep it down after a few breaths. Phew.

What the hell is that crap coming out of her mouth? If I didn’t know any better I would say its foaming Alka Selzer in red Kool-aid. I wonder if her guts are backed up from all the stuff she ate. I can't take much more of this.

Tomorrow I plan to explore the island. With any luck I will find a better place to live.

...

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!

8 - My Girlfriend's husband smells!

2010-08-02T00:01:00.000-07:00

My Girlfriends Husband Smells

This morning I woke huddled under my little sleeping area, shivering from the water that doused me overnight. The leaves I had added didn’t last long and most of them lay soaked with rain on the other side of the lean-to. I really need to build up the shelter so I can stay dry. I have had a little luck weaving the big bladed ones together so I think I’ll try and make a roof of some sort. Was thinking that if I created a triangular shape it would let the water run off.

I stood and stretched. I was going to say good morning to her, but she wasn’t in her spot.

What the hell?

Her rope was broken in the middle. I looked around quickly, expecting her to jump out at me at any second but she was nowhere to be seen. Her gag was on the ground, it looked like she had chewed through it. Not good. I might have to make a new one out of her skirt, the material looks stronger than the thin t-shirt I’m wearing.

I walked to the beach and looked in the water. I hope she didn’t wander into it. I wonder how long she would be able to survive in the ocean. Probably until a shark got her. This presents an interesting question, if she bites an animal will it turn into a zombie? Zombie sharks or zombie dolphins. Man, that is a freaky thought.

The water was crystal clear. The sand warm. It flowed around my toes as I wandered. If I had some beer, food, and a live girl this would be paradise. I don’t know how big the island is yet but I may find out today if she doesn’t turn up.

I scanned the beach and thought I saw movement in the distance. Might be a mirage. The water splashes up sometimes and I think I am seeing live things.

I walked along the water line for a few minutes and sure enough it was her. She was on all fours that’s a new development. I wondered when she got better motor skills.

She was on top of something, I couldn’t make it out but it looked like a person. I started running, thoughts of another survivor leaping to mind. What if someone else made it and she was trying to eat them? Oh My God!

“Hey, HEY!” I yelled.

She turned her head and her good eye locked on mine. She snarled around something in her mouth and then turned back to the thing on the ground. I came up alongside her and to my horror saw it was a body. It was a large person dressed in a flower print shirt that looked awfully familiar.

The stench reached me and I turned away to throw up. I can’t afford to lose anything that was in my stomach so I bit down on my gag reflex. I looked again, this time steeling my mind for the worse and realized who it was.

It was her husband. And she was eating him.

She had his shirt pulled up one side and a large chunk of his side was missing. She ignored me as I walked around, both hands clenched over my mouth as I looked at the body. It was him all right. The last time I had seen him he was laughing while feeling up his hot young wife. She had been vibrant, alive, flushed with champagne. Now they were both dead, although he was sure deader than her.

Oh Crap! What if he came back to life like her? I couldn’t have two zombies wandering around my island.

His head and one arm were in the water, the rest of his body was in the fetal position. I splashed into the surf and grabbed his arm intent on dragging him out to sea. I wanted to weigh his body down with rocks. She hissed at me when I tugged on him but she kept eating.

He must have weighed two fifty in life. Now he was bloated and water logged. His head lolled out of the water and I saw that his eyeballs were missing, eaten away by some sea creature no doubt. His skin was pasty and puffy There was no way that guy was coming back to life. I told myself that over and over. He was too decayed, to full of water and crap. No way man, no fucking way.

His fat ass was hard to move, so I started yanking harder. There was a tear and a sucking noise and suddenly I was falling into the water holding his arm. I splashed and came up sputtering as seawater rushed in my nose and mouth. I stood up fast, wiping it off my face and tossed the arm onto the beach with a squeal of horror. The fleshy part was facing me and all the stringy gooey stuff that used to connect him to his shoulder was hanging there like a weird bowl of pasta. I was amazed that there was no blood. He probably bled out in the water. But how is it he didn’t attract a shark or something?

She ignored me and kept chewing.

I stomped through the water and grabbed the end of the rope that trailed behind her. I gave it a hard tug pulling her off his corpse. She stumbled to her feet and I kept backing up and gave another yank. She fell on her back and stared up at the sky as if in shock, except she still had a mouthful of her husband.

I used the rope to pull her farther away. She struggled but couldn’t figure out how to roll over. She must have crawled to the beach while I was asleep. I am glad she didn’t try to come after me in the night. Last thing I need is for her to take a bite of my arm. Might wake up dead. I mean undead.

I didn't want a repeat of the arm tearing off so I grabbed his legs and pulled. He was so heavy! Maybe I should tear him into pieces after all. It would be a hell of a lot easier if I had an ax. I could hack him apart.

I pulled and pulled. Worked the body inch by inch until it was in the water. Then he was easier to move. He wasn’t really buoyant any more, probably due to his water logged clothes and skin. I wondered if it were possible for a body to stay in the water so long that all of the blood was replaced with sea water.

I was dragging him out to sea by his legs when his head surfaced. That eyeless socket regarded me with something like scorn. Could just be my imagination. I have been alone for a week now. Maybe it’s getting to me.

Alone, yeah I know she is there but she is this mindless shambling thing that wants to eat me. Does that sound like a good companion? At least Tom Hank’s ball didn’t snarl and snap at him all the time.

I was in the water up to my neck when I figured it was far enough. I pushed him and hoped the current would take him out to sea.

It didn’t.

He sank so that only one leg stuck out of the water then he started drifting back to shore. I could see the current pulling him, his face being dragged along the sharp reef. That wouldn't do much for his looks. I dragged him back out and then went underwater pulling one leg with me. I found a large rock and wedged his foot under it. Took a few tries to lock him in place but when I was done only his neck and head were showing.

Shit, I should have taken his clothes while I was at it. Might need those later.

It wasn’t hard to tug his shirt off his one armed torso. I threw it on shore and went back for the pants but there was no way I could tear them off unless I let him loose again.

She was freaking out by now, rolling over and over trying to get to her side. In a furious final push, that looked like an old lady trying to get up. (Help, help, I’ve fallen and I can’t get up.) She made one last attempt and actually rolled over onto her stomach and started crawling toward the arm. That gave me an idea how to get her back to camp and keep her busy for the rest of the day.

I waded onto shore, water logged like her ex, and grabbed the arm. It probably looked like I was shaking hands. She kept her eye on the meat the whole time. I shook it in front of her face “You want some food baby? Come with me, I got a one course meal with your name on it.”

I walked away with his arm dragging in the sand. She followed close, her eye never leaving the pale ragged flesh.

I dropped the arm when we got back and she leaned over and started nuzzling the flesh like a lover. I know, the irony, right? I tied the rope back together while she ignored me. I repeated the courtesy by ignoring her chewing.

After that I had pretty good luck with the surf and turf - although it was mostly surf. The turf came when I cooked a star fish in the weird papaya looking fruit shell and ended up chowing down on one of the palm leaves I used to cover it up. Tasted gross but it was one of the most filling meals I have had yet.

Meanwhile she worked away on her own dinner and didn’t once snarl or snap at me, not even a single dirty look. She was as content as I have seen her on the island which was saying a lot considering she is fucking dead.

...

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!

7 - My Girlfriend likes to get wet

2010-08-02T00:00:00.000-07:00

My Girlfriend Likes To Get Wet

Today it rained.

All. Goddamn. Day.

She stared up at the sky for hours as water washed over her body. It turned that shirt transparent again leaving her breasts looking pretty much like a normal chick. I just pretended like she was alive. It was nice to get some relief, so to speak.

Huddled under the lean-to for hours and hours. I talked to her, which is just like talking to myself since it is one sided. I don’t think about it like that. She is human, or was, so I can justify it in my mind.

So bored. I always had stuff to do at home when Ally was around. She worked odd hours so sometimes I would be alone for a weekend. But I had games and the TV. I could catch up on all the shows like CSI and NCIS which I’m pretty sure is just CSI spelled a different way.

How would those guys look at my new girlfriend? They would have to take blood samples, I’m sure - check her for trauma. Check me for drama as I squealed about what great care I was taking with her. They would make sure she wasn’t raped, which isn’t even a remote possibility. I may be alone and young and horny, but I am not into fucking dead chicks. Gross. That can’t feel good any way; I mean it would be all dry and stiff. Just thinking about it makes me want to put off sex forever.

She managed to turn on her side and after a few minutes of the rain pelting her she drew her legs up so that her skirt rode up pretty high. I wasn’t left with any doubt as to the fact that she was once a woman. God, why is she dead? She has such nice legs – as long as I ignore the gray. I managed to get some more relief while I watched her roll over a couple of times. Does that make me a sicko? I many have to strike this part from the diary once I am rescued.

Rain and more rain. Hovering in a corner right now while it pours down. Found a dry spot and that is how I am writing to you, dear diary. I wish night would get here so I can sleep. But the day may just go on forever.

Dragged the remains of the fire under the cover and then added a little more wood. Added some leaves to the shelter so that water stopped hitting me. Phew. As long as she doesn’t see the fire I won’t have to put up with her screaming.

I should just put her out of her misery tomorrow morning. Maybe I can work up the nerve.

...

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!

Book One Day 4 - My Girlfriend Has Crabs

2010-08-01T06:01:00.000-07:00

My Girlfriend Has Crabs

I might kill her today.

The barricades are holding up okay. I dragged some deadwood up last night and shored up the tiny fence. She walked into it, rebounded and then walked into it again. This dislodged some of the wood but I shoved it back into place. When I sat in the shade of the tiny tree and rock she decided to walk away as if I pulled a disappearing act.

Not too bright, that one. Sometimes when she walked away I would call out to her. “Hey, hey, come back,” and she came right back. It was pretty funny the first five or six times.

I don’t know her name, no idea. I thought of making one up but none really came to mind. Maybe Helga, sure, a nice thick name to match her intelligence. I saw this movie once where Tom Hanks was stuck on a deserted island and all he had was a volleyball for a companion. This dead chick is MY Wilson.

She is dead, quite dead. No pulse, no warmth, and no blood flow. She has a couple of minor cuts but they are just little furrows in the skin and they are gray and puckered like weird lips.

I’ve been thinking about making a rope out of old palm leaves and tying her to something. It would be a hell of a lot easier to just kill her but then who am I going to talk to? I don’t have a volley ball with a cute smiley face drawn on. And if I kill her, how will I explain that when I get rescued? How will I tell them that some zombie chick tried to eat me and I had to take her down a notch by bashing in her head? I could show them the weird plant and berries and maybe they could do something with it like find a cure for – I don ’t know, being dead.

So with no one to talk to I decided to keep her around. I don’t have a Friday like Robinson Crusoe, instead I have a slack gray face to tell my problems too. She was hot when she was alive. Those clothes cover some of her but I can see her shape under them. I wonder if the rest of her skin is gray as well. Maybe under that tiny skirt she is still as white as a virgin.

I should stop writing things like that, when I get off this cursed island the book companies don’t want to hear about me lusting after some dead chick no matter how horny I get. That would never make a good movie. Maybe a good sitcom.

Jesus. Four days and I am already going insane.

Four days since I got here? Four days?! It seems like a lifetime.

How in the world did I end up here? I was pretty disoriented when I woke up on the beach but I will try to recount the accident. If I wait much longer I might have a sunstroke and they will find my bones with this barely filled out journal.

It all started when Cliff had emergency gall bladder surgery.

That they ended up sending me is shockingly poor management. I have about as much pull as a neutered puppy and I’m about as scary as one.

But they need a guy to go out there and look at the budgets for the resort so that’s what I’ll do. I’ll go in with my calculator, check out the accounting, act important, then leave and I’ll get a vacation out of the deal. I just wish Ally could go with me but the company made it plain that I would have to pay her way. A grand just to get the plane ticket? If I had money like that I wouldn’t blow it on a plane ticket. A new PlayStation maybe.

They put me up at a hotel that was just spectacular. It sat so close to the beach that I only had to walk ten or fifteen feet to reach the bar. Then it's just a quick dash for the water, which was just as blue as can be. There were palm trees everywhere and I even saw a guy climbing up a tree to get some coconuts. Wow, I love fresh ones. I wonder if I can get a cool drink where the straw sticks out of the top and the alcohol content is so strong it makes your eyelashes curl right up. That’s what I need after flying all day from airport to airport.

I was offered a massage after I got settled in. Asked if it was a man because that would make me feel weird but I was assured it was a woman. She said beautiful woman but I’ll withhold judgment until I get there. Ally is a beautiful woman, well in her way. I mean she is a little taller than me and really doesn’t care about her hair like some of the model-looking girls I work with but that’s cool. She laughs at my dumb jokes and I mean what else can you ask for? I also love the freckles that cover her face, neck and well, just about every inch of her body.

The lady at the counter told me to bring extra money for the tip. She sort of winked at me, so I winked back. I guess I can spare five bucks if it is a good massage. I had one at the mall once but it was by this big guy who pressed on my shoulders so hard I thought I was going to have his fingers indented into skin for the rest of the day. I was surprised I wasn’t bruised later.

I didn’t care for the flight much. We flew into Port Jolito on a big regular airliner but getting to the island was in a small plane that shook the whole time. Well, it shook when it wasn’t swooping up and down. I drank a couple of beers and almost fell asleep a few times. Then we would bang around and I would pop my eyes back open, afraid we were going to crash.

I think the pilot swooped down to the water a few times just to scare me. I could actually see things on the surface or near - like dolphins maybe. Or sharks. Had to make a couple of bathroom trips since the plane was so tiny. It shook and shook. I swear the thing was going to come apart.

The next day was better.

I hopped on the plane, a little puddle jumper (I heard one of the people in the tiny airport call it that), and we set out for the other island. I was all alone and sat toward the front.

The pilot kept his door open and sang the whole time. Bawdy songs about girls that I couldn’t imagine were true. He said his name was Mooney but he said to call him by his nickname Looney Mooney. He talked when he didn’t sing and told me to head to the bar later so I could buy him a drink. I agreed with a grin and decided to hide out after my work was done.

The books weren’t as bad as I thought. I looked through them and broke out my laptop. I compiled a big spread sheet in a half day and found out the company was doing pretty good. Not much funny business that I could find. I dropped my results in an email and sent it off to my boss. He would be happy and I still had a couple of days to enjoy the sun.

Tried to call Ally but I guess she was out and about. I left her a message telling her how much I missed her. Then I ordered room service and had some rum while I watched the local channels, which were in the native language. There was some sort of variety show that had men chasing each other around on bicycles through a city that looked like a quiet place– except for these yah-hoos. I can see myself retiring here, maybe opening a bar and offering maps and advice to tourists.

I got the diary out. Had it in a plastic bag with a digital camera, some extra cash and my iPod. The bag is just a big thick Ziploc-looking thing that Ally bought me. I guess they make them for divers. It has a clasp made of plastic that closes so tight you can take the thing underwater and it won’t leak.

Ally said that the way it rains here I need something to keep my stuff dry. I only brought one bag with me since we are flying out tonight. At least I have a swimsuit and a change of underwear.

I headed to the pool after hitting the bar. With any luck I wouldn’t run into the crazy pilot. If he saw me drinking it might encourage him go join me a for a few. Then who the hell was going to fly the plane?

I sat by the pool and someone brought me a drink menu. I ordered some fancy thing that came in a coconut shell. I enjoyed it so much that I ordered one more. Wow, I could drink these things every day. I may have dozed because when I opened my eyes the sun was getting low and I had to rush back to the room to get my stuff ready.

The hotel staff acted very nice as I packed to leave. With my inspection complete I imagine they were glad to get rid of me. The manager gave me his personal cell number and told me to call if I had

any questions about the books. Then with smiles, pats on the back, a handshake or two, I left feeling like a celebrity. I should bring Ally here; after we are married maybe we can have our honeymoon at the resort.

I miss my girl. Speaking of which …

When my new girl wandered off, I hiked to the center of the island and drank some fresh water. With her out of the way, I was able to drink until I thought I was going to puke. I only took my shirt off and splashed water all over my body. Wish I could strip and bathe for real. I would have to do it fast in case she came after me. Don’t want her chasing after me while I’m buck ass naked.

The isn't very filling and it gives me the shits. I managed to get a couple of little starfish looking things by the shore but I almost puked when I ate them raw. I wondered how they would taste if I cooked them.

I had some matches from the resort. Had almost forgotten about putting them in the waterproof bag that Ally gave me for the diary. Luck was really on my side since no amount of rubbing sticks was likely to work in my favor. I did try it for a minute but all I got was really sore hands and a warm stick.

Managed to get a fire going. Had to clear out a section of my new living area so I don't catch on fire when I sleep. Stupid chick went bat shit insane, like she never saw a flame before. I had to build up a little palm leaf barrier so she couldn't see it. Then she settled down.

God, she was like some ADD kid with Tourette’s Syndrome. Maybe I can tie her to something, give me time to do some much needed work. Need to do some exploring. Find food. Maybe cook some of the fruit just to give it a different flavor.

That reminds me, she doesn’t eat. Well ,she tried to eat me the first day. Haven’t seen her take a dump either, then again she is too stupid to raise her skirt and do it. God, the thought of her crapping in some silky Victoria secret panties makes me want to throw up– not that I have anything in my stomach.

I’m going to get water and then write more. Nothing else to do except gather my thoughts and
jot them down.

…

Food at last, and not a bad meal if I do say so myself.

I came back from the little water fall and she just stared at me. She moaned, her jaw opened wide and I saw the horror that was her mouth. I think she fell down a few times because her front teeth are a mess. Some are cracked and some are just plain broken. Her tongue is a gray hunk that reminds me of a dry slug. When it slips out she has trouble getting it back in. I saw her chewing on it a couple of times.

I noticed some bug had planted eggs in her dried out eye. Reminded me of a spider sacs but they were moving. Maybe they are cocoons. I don’t watch enough Animal Planet to make a call. All I know is that I wish I could hold her down and squish
them.

Anyway, she was standing in front of a tree and wasn’t moving, so I decided to sneak past her and go sleep at my little walled off space. Only I noticed that her hair was moving around like it was alive. I felt my skin crawl and I shivered all over like I had caught a chill in the 90 plus degree sun. I wanted to bash her over the head and stop whatever was moving in there. I even reached for a stick before I saw the blue and white claw poke out. I felt my mouth flood with saliva at the sight.

My girlfriend had crabs - in her hair.

I thought drool was going to burst between my lips. It was like someone poured water in my mouth. I couldn’t stop thinking about the crab legs Alley and I ate in San Francisco last year. God - I wonder how she is doing. I try not to think about it too much, about how she must be freaking out.

I had this stick in my hand and I really wanted that crab. I walked toward her as slowly as I could. She smelled sort of like old fish left out and don’t even get me started on where that reek might be coming from. I hope it’s just from the crash and her spending all that time in the water.

Please be from the seawater!

One of the little crab claws poked out of the nest of blond hair and snapped at the air. I was just about close enough to grab it, but she must have sensed me behind her because she turned– well, staggered, really -like she was on a bender. When she saw me, her eyes opened wide– even the one without the gross bug eggs in it - and her mouth snapped at air.

I used the stick to push her away but she reached for me anyway. I slapped her hands away. Didn't want to touch her skin but I did and, man, was she cold. It actually felt good compared to the heat here, sort of like touching a raw steak fresh from the fridge. I pushed her again, just enough to turn her away.

I made a grab for the crab’s claw but the little bastard snapped at me. I was so hungry that I ignored the claw and let it close on my finger. It hurt, so I tried to yank my hand back but it wouldn’t let go. So there I was, dancing around this dead chick with my hand stuck in her hair. She reached for me over and over her, mouth with those nasty broken teeth snapping at me. She almost got a bite! Zombie bite - crap. I’ve read enough and seen the movies. I know that if she bites me I am fucked.

I jerked my hand away so hard it came free but stuck my thumb in my mouth but then I worried that I had touched her and somehow the zombie virus would get into me. I spat repeatedly and prayed wouldn’t change into a shambling creature like her.

This was not working!

I needed a new plan.

I pushed her back and she staggered into a tree. I backed up and found a large piece of curved drift wood. I turned it over and put the round part up and tried to bury one end in the sand before she caught on to my trap. I pounded on the other end until it stuck and made a little hump on the ground.

Then I had to lead her away about 20 feet. I ran back and stood behind the hooked stick and pounded down with my foot so it was in the sand good and tight. She found me after a minute or two then it was a mind numbing, slow wait for her to stagger toward me. She moaned and hissed and at one point even put her arms up like some stupid Frankenstein chick.

It took forever but she fell for my trap. She tripped just like I hoped and fell flat on her face. I’ve heard that saying many times but never seen it happen quite like this.

I jumped on her back and fought the crab. He was buried in her hair like he was stuck in a net. At first I was scared of his snapping claws but I managed to unhook his legs. Meanwhile she lay under me, struggling to get up. I had my legs around her slim waist and her face was still pressed into the sand. I got worried that she would suffocate but she didn't bother to lift her head.

I held the crab around the ass end of his shell. I’m sure I muttered a few obscenities at the stupid thing but it just snapped at me and hissed little bubbles.

She lay there for a long time just moving her head back and forth. I thought about finding a stick to finish her off but she was pretty entertaining. When I get off this cursed island, I know I will write a book about my adventures and sell a million copies. It will be even better if I manage to keep her alive.

She couldn’t get up, she didn’t even try. She just flopped around like a slow moving fish out of
water.

Gave up and went back to camp. I got the fire going and cooked him. He had to be just about the best crab I have ever tasted.

...

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 Diary 3 - My Girlfriends get a Mani-Pedi

2010-08-01T00:03:00.000-07:00

(Thanks to Lee Hartnup for the artwork!)

It is quite the pain in the ass to write upside down, in a diary, filled with lines I already wrote. To make it worse I'm going back in time because I'm over writing days I barely remember. Sheesh some of this stuff. Blame it on heat stroke.

I gathered up a bunch of seashells yesterday, little ones. I also found some little bleached twigs. I was thinking of setting them up like an alarm of sorts so I know when they are misbehaving or trying to get away. Not that they try much. They both remind me of stoners the way they sit around and stare at nothing all day. Unless I walk by. Then it is like they forgot who I am and it is back to the snapping and snarling like I'm walking prime rib. Hey, maybe they snap and snarl in a pattern, kinda like morse code. I should write down how many times they do it and associate it with words. Don't laugh at me, diary, all you have to do is sit there and wait to get picked up.

So I took this handful of shells and laid them out nice and pretty. There were some shiny little white ones that I guess the sea stripped clean. I set these in a corner and then dug out a few colored ones. These were light blue and pretty. I found a few with spots and even a couple with some red in them.

I had been thinking about running the shells on a thin strand of fiber I could make from palm leaves. Then when the girls moved or tried to leave I would hear it. They can't get out of their bonds easily but I did have a few close calls on the old island.

But really I am bored and some beaded curtains over the entrance to the hut area would be nice. I could pretend like they are a door even though one whole other side is wide open. I punched holes in the shells with a sharp piece of that black rock I can find everywhere. I had pretty good luck hitting them from the side so I could shave pieces off.

The problem was that for few that I put holes in, others broke. Had to make the holes smaller and smaller. When I tried to slide them onto the thick line I had created but it was a no go.

I glanced over at the girls who were on their feet and walking around in circles while staring at the sun. If they had brains the things would have been cooked. My girl was hooting like she used too, I have decided it is some form of sun worship. Eileen just stared and kept walking into her tree. Then falling down. Repeat.

I took some hair from my girls head, just yanked some out when she was looking away. She didn't even look at me when I did it. Wound a few threads of it together. This worked better but it was also too flimsy to be much use. A stiff wind would break them. When I was tying stuff to the hair it made a really cool sound like a clicking and clacking. She kept taking her eyes off the sun to see what I was up to. This gave me an idea.

I sat her down and worked some of the shells into her hair then I tied little twigs in there. This went on for a few hours. She kept trying to turn around to see what I was doing but I kept her attention on a shiny rock I tossed in front of her. Oooh look. A rock. Stupid zombie.

Got one side of her head done and then started on the other. This really helped pass the day but it was slow going. I found that if I pulled too hard, clumps of her hair came out with chunks of skin still attached. I had to go at it slow slow slow otherwise I was going be stuck with the evil spawn of Yul Brenner.

I got hungry so I decided to finish Bo ScaryDerek's hair later.

I ate some more jerky but it was starting to taste funny. Probably going bad. I ate a lot more than usual because I wanted the protein. I mean if the stuff is going bad I may as well enjoy it while I can.

I came back to work on the girls hair. On my way I stumbled over a pink and red stone. Picked it up and found it rough like it was made of sand paper. I rubbed it against my nails. I haven't had clippers in a month and they are getting long. Sure I can bite the things but they get rough and sharp. Sometimes I catch them in my hair which already feels like a fishing net.

I walked back while sanding. When I arrived I looked at my girlfriends nails. Must have had them on the mind since I was hard at work on my own. She didn't really have nails anymore, more like claws. I remembered reading somewhere that even after death the hair and toenails keep growing. Little undead bastards. Where's the loyalty?

I took her hand in mine. Her cold hand. It's ninety damn degrees out and she feels like an iceberg. I used the file to grind down one finger but when I did the next one her nail peeled back like a chunk of parmesan cheese. It flew up and smacked me in the forehead and stuck there. I batted it off and rubbed at the spot. Gross!

Her finger looked terrible. Skin all dried up where the nail used to be. Hand cold. Well that's what I get for trying to give my zombie girls a beauty shop day. Tomorrow I'm back to looking for food. They can sit here and rot.

What was that? I heard a noise out in the woods like people talking. Night diary!

New Diary 2 - Girlfight!

2010-08-01T00:02:00.000-07:00

Today started much like every other day I have had over the course of the past month or so. Got up, pissed, ate some left over crap I killed the day before, found a hole and filled it with more crap. I didn't so much as glance at either one of them as I went about my business. There was sure a lot of moaning from their side of the camp, though. They went at it all night and I had to plug my ears with a bunch of fibers I tore off a coconut. It didn't cut out all the sound but it shut out enough to let me get some shut eye.

They are keeping to themselves for the most part. Sometimes they realize they are sitting across from each other and there is some snarling, more like a hissy fit with all that noise. It sounds like a couple of pissed off vipers. Stupid zombie chicks!

I walked away from camp and checked on some of the traps the captain had set before I offed him. I found a little fuzzy creature in one that sort of looked like a cute rat. I thought how funny he would be with those big eyes running around in a ball or on an exercise wheel. I could name him Fred and watch him go! Wouldn't he be cute? He had huge terrified eyes that stared up at me in fear and made me want to pick him up and give him a home.

But I didn't. I grabbed a stick and beat him to a pulp instead. He squealed but not as loud as my stomach. I heard bones cracking and blood sprayed out of his nose. Fuck you mother nature, you stupid bitch. See how much I hate all this crap you throw at me?

I took my now flattened meal back to the fire and used a knife to slit it's gut and pull out the intestines. I stared at the bloody mess in my hand and after a moments consideration I tossed them between the girls. They looked at the ropy mass and then at each other and just like that a slow motion girl fight developed. She moved first but she was in bad shape so she wasn't as fast as Eileen who fell over while trying to reach for the stuff.

My girl would have none of that and made her wishes known by drawing back her lips and snarling for all she was worth.

You go girl.

Then it was on. Eileen grabbed first but missed by a mile. My girl was on her side but rolled over onto her stomach and slithered forward at about a foot a minute. She had her gag on and her hands tied in front. I jumped into the fray and removed both gags so they would have a chance at chow. My girl was slow but Eileen almost managed to snap her teeth over my hand as I pulled away. I forgot how quick these things are when they are fresh.

My girl got her coconut top caught on a stick and it came off which was unfortunate because they look like prunes now.

Eileen continued to snap at me even though I had backed away. I snapped back and laughed at her. I laughed and told her what a stupid zombie she was. She didn't seem to mind. All she wanted was to bite me. She wanted a piece and hey, how can I blame her? I'm the only living man for miles around.

Eileen caught sight of my girl closing in on the pile of ratling guts and dove after them. They were really worked up over the little biy of bit of meat. I wonder if I can use stuff like that to train them? Maybe some positive reinforcement. I trained a puppy once not to poop in the house with dog biscuits. With them I could use chunks of meat. Maybe Rooney was the answer. I should try to save some of him and offer it for their training. I can make them do tricks like roll over and play dead. Stand up and play dead. Walk around and play dead.

My girl head butted the other chick but I don't think she meant to. Still it was fun to think that she was doing so well in the fight. This was really entertaining and it made up for the boredom of the day. I thought it was going to be another nonstop day of looking at the trees and the water and the surf and the shells and all the bullshit on this new worthless island.

Eileen got her mouth on a bit of the red mass but my girl managed to get part of the other side and pulled away. Now they had the the meat stretched between them and they were snarling at each other as chunks of the little ratlings guts flew all over the place. They chewed and chewed and soon they were lip to lip and it was downright cute. Like a fucked up version of the dogs in Lady and the Tramp when they are eating spaghetti. Why can't these chicks be alive? I could live forever on the island if I had two girls making out in front of me.

After a while they fell apart and munched on their prizes. I walked over to them and helped both sit up. I had to wipe the blood off and slip the gags back on. They snarled at me but I ignored it and left them together but not before I sort of pushed them into a heap so they could slither around against each other. It was not hot, much to my dismay.

While I was trying to clean up Eileen's face some of the rat guts fell out of her throat where it was torn out. Gross. I would have to find something to tie around her neck so that didn't happen again. Just as well I suppose, I don't want to have to clean out the girls guts every day.

I tugged the half chewed stuff out of the hole that used to be her throat and went off to find some clothes so I could fashion a scarf. I hope I can find something flowery. I think she would look good in a light blue with that tan she sports.

I went to the beach later and dragged every scrap of wood I could find into a pile. then I got leaves and a few precious pieces from the romance novels and built up a little fire pit. I had a small fire going pretty quick thanks to the fire by the camp. I cooked the little rat thing while I stoked it up.

I had the stack ready and when I finished my feast I moved a few burning sticks onto my big pile of logs. I built up the fire underneath the trees and waited and waited. I blew until they finally caught and then the first log was on fire. More followed. In an hour I had a hell of a bon fire.

I just hope it helps bring me some help. I can't take it any more. I just can't.

...

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!

Welcome to Paradise Part Two - A love letter

2010-07-31T23:00:00.000-07:00

Hello Diary.

Fuck you six ways from Sunday.

My one last link to my old life and all I can think about is how much I want to burn you. Burn you in the six pits of hell might be appropriate. How do you like the sound of that, ole diary? Wanna meet a fiery end? I could roast a crab over your pages and then piss on the ashes. Then I could ground them into the sand like a

But I can’t do such a thing. You are worth so much more to me. So much in fact that I am going to keep writing in you. But I’m going to write in you upside down, the ultimate play in words. It sort of gives Read Between the Lines a new meaning.

Now that I have told you off I would like to offer a special letter to my dearly dead companion.

Dear whatever the hell your name is,

Sometimes I hate you. Sometimes I want to pick up a rock and bash in your head. Back when we first started this mad adventure together you were young and hot. You were spry and nubile. You could rock a coconut bra like no one else’s business.

Now you are dead and rotting. You smell, baby, there is no other way to put it.

Back on our first island, our lovers paradise, where I took care of you, let you eat part of your dead husband, let you run around without a care in the world, we had something special. Now don’t get me wrong. I know nothing could ever happen between us. Lets be honest here, baby, you’re about as lively as a rock. I have seen stuffed animals with more life than you.

But sometimes I do care about you. That should be clear by now. I saved you from that stupid zombie shark after it ate your foot. Do you remember that? I saved you from drowning a few times. Like that third or forth day we were on the island. I was trying to fish and you were trying to mermaid your self over to me like I was a fresh can of spam. I had to pull you out of the water. Now the jury is still out on whether or not you can even drown to death, er, undeath, I mean double death, or whatever form of

Remember how I figured out how to clean out your disgusting rotted meat stomach with seawater and a little leverage? Those were the days. You were still sort of fresh and looked pretty good in the coconut bra and grass skirt. Now your clothing is hanging in strips. You look like hell, baby, I wish you would take better care of yourself.

Remember when I was going to leave you on the island and sail off? I changed my mind and brought you along. I let you bob along like a little top. And when we got to our new island paradise I had to beat yet another guy to death to protect you. Why if someone ever gets the real story here, they may just start asking questions like why do I always kill the men around here. But it’s not like that, baby. It’s not like that at all.

And now our happy family includes Eileen. She isn’t too happy about being a zombie. I can see that in her eyes. I would hazard a guess that she hates it. She is always staring at me with that same, “Hey, look at the walking happy meal,” look.

So here we are, the three of us on our happy island paradise. Our lovely home in the sun. Just you, me, another dead chick, and the ocean.

After I burn the diary I think I should burn you. But that would look bad, eh my lovely lady? Burning you and scattering the ashes. What will I tell the nice men in white coats that want to talk to me about my feelings when I am at the mental institution, as surely I must end up. Will I tell them I kept a dead girl as a zombie companion? They will ask questions and they will wonder just how lonely I got.

Not THAT lonely.

So someday, long from now when we are back in civilization and you are restored to life, I hope you read this letter and understand that I did my best to take care of you. Really.

Sorry about the enema tube down your gut.

With love and desperation.

Me.

I’m glad I got that out of my system. I may be on a new island with a new zombie girl but something about all this is familiar. Maybe because I just spent a month in the same situation? At any rate, it is really good to be back on dry land after spending days and days on the water with my zombie-top floating along behind me.

She didn’t even get prune skin. Some little critters did pick at her leg, though, the one missing the foot. I had to bandage it up with some cloth and then jam it back into the metal strut. There is also something reassuring about her pad and clomp zombie walk.

It’s late and I found some coconuts. Wow, shocker. Fucking coconuts. I thought about tossing them in the ocean but in the end I cracked one open and ate my fill. I can’t wait to get up in the middle of the night with the runs – again.

God I hate coconuts.

New Diary 1 - My Girlfriends Hate Each Other

2010-07-31T12:00:00.000-07:00

Hello diary and fuck you.

Right now I'm thinking of a lot of sayings I have heard over the years. Never look a gift horse in the mouth, I guess that means they have really nice everything except teeth. Don't count your eggs before they hatch. I guess that means you can't bring as many to market. Don't cry over spilled milk. That one just pisses me off since I spilled all of my coconut milk this morning when Eillen decided to get touchy feely.

A lot has happened over the last few days and I have been too busy to write much. I had to turn my diary upside down and write between the lines. I know how funny that sounds but it will sound even funnier when I say 'Read Between the Lines sucker' every time people are going ‘gah gah’ over my exploits on a deserted island with a pair of zombies.

Eileen is a real handful. I forgot how hard it is to keep a fresh zombie. Now that the other one - I really need to give her a name ... um, nothing comes to mind. I would call her Wilson but she is a girl and it just doesn't work. I guess she is a girl, a dead girl with creaking joints and tendons.

So the fresh one.

The first thing I did was create a new gag for her. I fashioned it out of the old dress that my girl was wearing when I hauled her behind the raft. It served it's purpose. Now she runs around naked as the day she was born which is not hot, oh dear diary not hot at all.

As much as I tried to protect her from the little sea critters something got in and made a mess of her. All those open sores were so gross, I had to dig some little jellyfish looking things out of them. I used a stick and sometimes when I hit a tendon her fingers would twitch or her foot would move. One sore on her shoulder made her whole leg pop off the ground. Weird.

Eileen stared at me the whole time with her mouth open like she was gonna start drooling but no sound came out. A bug may have. I am pretty sure something moved back there. She has nice teeth, not like my girl who has a bunch of broken ones surrounded by green rot.

Eileen is still fresh. Very fresh, like she looks a-day-dead fresh. The sun was hard on her now that she has passed on. It left her skin very dark but with the recent zombificaiton she looks a little like leather. I touched her arms a few times to compare her to my girl. Her skin is still soft, but does have an odd texture.

So yeah I took her clothes off and let her parade around naked as well. I mean I may be exhausted from the trip, the fight, the running around, the days lost on the ocean. I may be all that but I am not THAT tired. My girl kept looking over at her with that eye. She kept snarling like - well I think she may be jealous. She snarled at Eileen and Eileen snarled back. Hey look, it's the snarling darlings. I hope they can make friends with each other. You would think having two naked chicks on a deserted island would be fun but it is a lot of work!

The camp was pretty well setup. With two people I guess they had a lot more time to do stuff. You should see the contraption they built. It is raised up off the ground, poles strapped to trees so they wouldn't get wet when the rains came. It was only about six inches up but that would be enough. The large branches had been pulled down and tied together so they created a weird sort of bowed roof over the platform. The sleeping area itself is covered in an almost plush layer of palm leaves that are fresh. They probably changed them out every day or two. I found some palm trees that were woven together like they were making walls. I started to unweave one and got the hang of how they did it. At least I will stay busy the next few days while I work on this.

I found a bunch of meat hanging from branches near a fire which was barely a bunch of smoldering logs. There was a neat stack of white wood in a pile so I added a few chunks of wood to the fire and blew on it. I was afraid that I would lose the spark and then I would be screwed. I mean more screwed than I am already. Like uber-screwed. Just me, a bed, no flame to cook on and a pair of zombies to keep an eye on. Won't that make night time fun, laying in the dark, wondering if either of them are trying to sneak up and have me for a midnight snack.

Reminds me. I better double check the gags before I go to bed. And the bindings. And the rope to the trees. I never suspected I would be in to tying girls up but it isn't so bad I guess. Ally was usually the aggressor and the few times she tied me up it was fun. Well except for the one time back in December when she had too much to drink, wandered out to get another beer and fell asleep on the couch. At least the feeling came back in my hands a few hours later.

I hunted around and found a bunch of coconuts. How typical. I wonder why they didn't eat many of them because there sure does seem to be a lot. Maybe they were allergic to them. Or maybe they could actually hunt and found stuff to eat on a regular basis. Not like my skinny ass that fumbled around in the water for a few days before I tasted a starfish.

So I had this coconut all cracked open and ready to drink. It was a bitch to open because I had to make a new tool to crack it in half. I was holding the end up to see if it would fit Eileen, I wanted to make her a coconut top while she was still fresh but she stumbled into me with her hands out like she is a retarded kid. Just like my girl a month ago.

I had to find a smaller coconut after that because the first one was too big. At least her breasts are real, unlike my girl who had me fooled from day one!

She is older than my girl I would put her in her early to mid thirties. Hard to tell with that leathery tan skin. Lots of freckles but hell if I lived in tropical paradise I would probably tan all the time as well. The only disturbing thing I found on her body was the Aerosmith tattoo above her ass. I just can't imagine what would possess someone to do that. I mean a tramp stamp is fine and all, but Aerosmith?

Well diary it has been an exciting couple of days with the exception of having to bash in the pilots brains which was not exciting at all. It made it very hard for me to sleep. I tossed and turned every time I thought about his head being crushed under the rock. I hate that I had to do it but I hate it even more than I SHOULD do it to the two girls. Well maybe Eileen, I don't think I can kill my little other little zombie girl she and I have been through too much.

...

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!

A new bizarro novel arrives!

2010-07-15T14:55:00.000-07:00

Hi Friends!

After I finished the novel version of The Zombie Wilson Diaries I started on a mad acid trip of a book called The Apocalypse and Satan's Glory Hole. This has all the humor of Zombie Wilson but without an inner voice to tell me if I was going too over the top. This novel has been described as crazy, messed up, gross, and an acid trip in book format.

I wrote it with a Horrorcore novelist named Jonathan Moon and we put this bad boy together with amazing skill if I do say so myself. Pick it up on Amazon in paperback or in Kindle. If you get the digital version the book is only $2.99! That's cheaper than a fancy ass cup of coffee at Starbucks!

Swing by the new site for more information. Satan's Glory Hole!

I will soon be launching a new funny zombie blog for your reading pleasure. Check back soon for the link.

-Tim

Undead praise for The Zombie-Wilson Diaries

2010-01-09T15:49:00.000-08:00

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