Romance: Welcome to Zombie Island: A Tale of Zombie Romance and Survival (Post-Apocalyptic, Zombie, Spirit, Survival) (6 page)

Cass
pulled off the main road, steering the bike down the dark construction path. By some miracle they hadn't run into any more zombies. She recognized the local bus she'd seen earlier parked a few yards away from the resort's bulldozer. There was no sign of any passengers.

Cass turned off the Vespa's engine and listened to the shouting and sporadic gunfire coming from the resort.

"We're too late," She said sadly.

"You did your best," Talin replied from his basket, trying to reassure her, "Maybe we can take the bus and look for survivors?"

The distant screams haunted her, "I doubt we'd find any." Cass recalled her military training… access the situation… search for any tools at hand. She glanced over at a metal shed, listening to the low hum of machinery inside.

"That's the resort's water softening system," she said to herself as she scanned the area. She thought for a moment, and then raced over to the metal shed." I have an idea," It was crazy…but this whole night was crazy…her plan actually bordered on suicidal, but at least it was a plan.

Novia
darted and danced through the chaos until she reached the defensive cordon Colonel Marcos had established on the miniature golf course. Grabbing a discarded rifle from the ground she raced to her man's side.

He held her tightly, "Thank God you're safe. Did my man find you?"

"Yes, darling, but he didn't make it."

"I see, ok, I've called for help, it should arrive momentarily."

As if on cue, they heard the whirling of helicopter blades. Novia's heart soared as a camouflage Huey helicopter buzzed the resort. It circled once and then began its descent. The Miniature Golf course was barely large enough for the chopper to set down. Marcos took Novia's hand, guiding her into the chopper, before climbing in himself.

Soldiers raced towards the chopper to be evacuated, but this was not the time to bring a bunch of panic stricken men on board. It was safer to go it alone Novia reasoned as she opened fire on the troops, cutting down the colonel's faithful guard in mid stride. The Helicopter rose slowly, until a soldier leapt into the air, grabbing the skids and hanging on for dear life. Novia leaned out and fired another burst as the bird turned and began to move off. The dead man fell to the ground, crushing the course's miniature windmill. Now unencumbered, the chopper ascended, leaving all the madness behind them.

Within two minutes they were soaring over the jungle bound for the capital. Hopefully the nightmare was limited to this side of the island.

Novia sat back, finally able to relax and catch her breath for the first time in what felt like hours. She smiled with relief as she felt reassuring touch of the colonel's hand on her leg. She glanced over at him warmly… realizing with sudden revulsion that both his hands were clasped behind his head. Lowering her gaze she realized that the first lady's severed hand was still clamped firmly to her knee, and it was squeezing tighter by the second.

"Get it off, get it off," She screamed, fruitlessly pounding her fists on the zombie appendage.

The Colonel grabbed the hand and pulled with all his might, once, then twice. Finally the hand's grip loosened enough to peel it off. The colonel tossed the hand away in disgust, aiming for the open side window. He missed. The clutching hand landed in the pilot's lap, gripping his testicles in a vice like grip. He howled in agony, instantly losing control of the helicopter as he frantically sought to remove the offending appendage from his most sensitive parts.

The chopper spun wildly, rapidly losing altitude. Novia stared out the window, screaming, as the jungle grew closer. Packs of monkeys leapt for cover as the Huey's blades sliced into the treetops. It spun like a demented top, finally crashing into a lagoon. The engine stalled, and the chopper lay silently in three feet of water. All was still and the only signs of life were coming from the jungle creatures whose world had been so suddenly turned upside down. Within minutes however, the chaos was forgotten, and the jungle returned to normal. There was only the sound of the monkeys howling in the trees.

The
zombies kept hammering on the cold room door but the six inch thick insulated door and improvised lock held fast. There were moments of quiet but always the pounding began again. The zombies never seemed to grow weary or diverge from their single minded purpose.

Jack checked his IPad, but it was useless. Even his souped-up device couldn't pick up a signal from within a steel room. There would be no calling for help.

Fawn leaned against him, trying desperately to stay warm, "I'm sorry Jack," She said.

"Sorry for what?"

"If it wasn't for me you probably would have gotten away. I was too pathetic to save myself,” she said looking down at the ground.

"That's not true," Jack said, "I think you were pretty courageous back there." He studied her face. She was very pretty but there was a trace of sadness in her eyes, like a permanent scar. "You've spent a lot of time being blamed for things that weren't your fault. Am I right?"

"Kind of. My mom always said that if it wasn't for me she would have found a nice rich guy, instead of a jerk like my stepfather."

"She should've realized how lucky she was."

There was another wave of pounding on the door. Fawn squeezed his hand, "We're going to die in here, aren't we Jack?"

Jack was about to lie, saying everything would be okay but Fawn wasn't that stupid, and she deserved his honesty "It's a distinct possibility. Sorry Fawn, I wish I could have done more."

"Don't be sorry, you're the first guy who ever cared enough to help me. You're one of the good guys."

Jack looked back on all the things he'd done in the service of his country. He was far from a good guy in his mind, but it felt good to hear nonetheless. Maybe he could be a good guy, he thought.

Fawn reached up and touched his face. Her warm hand felt good, "If we're going to die anyhow, maybe we can… well, you know? It’ll keep us warm at least."

Jack pondered the situation. His communication device was useless, and the steel door was their only escape route. Even if he fought his way past the zombies Fawn would never make it. And truth be told, it sounded like there was an army of them out there. He would never get through, not even alone. There was nothing further he could do to accomplish his mission. Jack always assumed he'd die in the line of duty, probably shot on some distant battlefield, or captured and tortured to death. This latest development offered a much nicer demise than he had ever imagined. He leaned down and kissed Fawn softly.

The kiss grew deeper, more passionate. Fawn stopped shivering as the fear of death gave way to primal instinct and passion. Her hands slid under his T-Shirt, pulling it up and over his head. Jack let go of all thoughts of the zombie horde outside, as he kissed her neck and caressed her ample breasts. At first they were both cold and shivering, but within seconds, as their passions were awakened, the blood raced through them, spreading warmth throughout their bodies. Jack ran his tongue around her hard nipples, as she caressed his head, pulling him tighter into her.

The zombies were furiously pounding on the door, but knowing that death was only inches away only made the couple's blood run hotter. Jack had been with a lot of women over the years, but this was by far the most intense scenario he could remember. It wasn't just sex for pleasure; this was an affirmation of life.

Jack stood up and Fawn eagerly undid his belt, pulling his pants down, and then removing them completely. She rubbed his stiff cock through his shorts and looked up at him with adoring eyes. He pulled her up and they kissed deeply, their tongues entwining. Jack broke away from their embrace and hastily rearranged a stack of boxes of some sort of leafy greens.

"This is as close to a bed as we're getting." He said.

Fawn helped him arrange the last boxes, her tits bouncing with anticipation. They had all but forgotten about their imminent demise. They embraced again, and this time she coaxed his shorts to the floor, setting his stiff cock free.
Now that feels a little cold
, flashed through Jack’s mind as he cupped his hands under Fawn's ass and lifted her onto his hard waiting shaft. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his back. He didn't bother with foreplay; he knew she was wet and eager. He eased her down onto his cold cock. He almost exploded immediately as his once cold member was enveloped in her heat. His cock slipped inside with no searching or awkwardness. Her legs tightened reflexively, and she buried her face in his neck giving him a hundred soft kisses as he began to pump his shaft in and out of her spread pussy.

Fawn squealed with delight as Jack's cock filled her. She'd never had sex without a condom before and it felt fantastic. The very thought of needing protection seemed beyond ridiculous given the circumstances. She felt his now hot skin on hers the way nature had intended.

He lifted her hips up and down, the heat from her pussy rising with each thrust.

"Oh Jack," She moaned, "It's so good,"

"Yes Fawn!"

"It's Delores," She gasped, "My real name is Delores Peppertree!"

"That's a pretty name."

"No it isn't," and she laughed between moans, "Oh god Jack, I'm gonna cum!"

She leaned back, stretching her legs out, held up by Jacks hands on her butt, and cock in her pussy. He felt her vagina contracting, pulsing as he thrust harder, faster. Then he pulled her close again, his muscles clenched as he climaxed too.

Fawn's arms squeezed his neck, and her thighs tightened as she felt him cumming inside her. She bounced and bucked as another orgasm rolled through her body. Finally they slowed down, basking in the warmth of each other's bodies. Then, ever so gently, he laid her down on the almost-soft bed of spinach and assorted greens, his satisfied cock finally sliding out of her equally happy pussy. He curled up next to her. Fawn listened to Jack's heart beating in his chest. She had never felt more alive, or in an odd way, more safe and loved.

The zombies kept pounding and scraping at the steel door.

There
were at least seventy zombies loose in the resort's main area. Forty survivors, a mix of tourists and soldiers, were trapped in the band pavilion. They huddled together defending themselves with rifle butts, pool furniture
and anything else they could lay their hands on. It was a hopeless cause. Just when it seemed all hope was lost they heard a sound in the distance… the load roar of some sort of industrial engine getting closer – and even louder - by the second.

The fence behind them was levelled as the oncoming bulldozer easily crushed all in its path. To the survivors it was like the cavalry had just ridden in.

Cass aimed the dozer into the biggest mass of zombies. She wasn't taking time to access the target, assuming anyone who knew what a bulldozer was would get the hell out of the way. This was not a time to nit-pick. Anything, or anyone not smart enough to get out of the way was getting squashed. Years back she had dated an army engineer who, wanting to impress her, and knowing of her love for all things tracked, had let her try her hand at dozer operation. Fortunately for those present, she was a good student.
It was fortunate for those who were still living
, she corrected herself, not so fortunate for the dead.

The steel treads rolled over the first throng of the zombies, reducing them to a quivering pate. There was still the occasional finger or crushed arm trying to wreak havoc within its tiny radius of influence, but essentially they were now more like a big zombie hamburger than any real threat. Cass barreled on, crushing every zombie in her path. She rolled over another pack of zombies, then, after fumbling with the controls for a second, spun the bulldozer around. She did a second run through the main area, crushing another wave beneath the treads. Three of the more intrepid zombies were able to latch onto the dozer's front blade this time, however, and were trying to climb over.

"Oh, you assholes want to play?" Cass steered straight for the concrete restroom building, smashing into the wall, and crushing the zombies nicely in the process.

Jack
and Fawn were now locked in a passionate sixty-nine position, focused only on pleasuring each other. It was their third round of lovemaking in a half hour. Jack wasn't sure how he mustered the energy, but guessed it was some primal survival instinct… You're about to die, so procreate as much and as fast as possible. Or something like that he figured. They also knew it was this, or have to face their inevitable demise. He ran his tongue across her labia, and then sucked on her hard clit. Her body shook in excitement, even as she returned the favor by rolling her tongue around the head of his cock and doing her best to swallow the top half. Just as he felt himself nearing orgasm again he came back to face her and plunge his rod between her thighs once more, as his cum coursed inside of her once again. The both gripped each other tight, even as their mutual orgasm continued. It was not log though before they realized that the deep rumbling they felt – and were beginning to hear – had nothing to do with the spasms that had been rocking their bodies.

The room shook and there was a sudden thundering crash. Jack's first instinct was that the lock had finally broken loose. But the door was still secure. Another crash echoed through the room, followed by a strange sound.

Fawn look confused, as they both strained their ears, "Hey Jack, is that … people… cheering?"

Jack listened to the unmistakable sound of applause, "Yeah, and I doubt their cheering for the zombies. I think something good just happened."

The pounding at the door had ceased. Jack approached the door tentatively and removed the assault rifle he had wedged against the door release and set it on the floor.

"What are you doing?" Fawn asked, clutching his arm.

"I think they're gone."

He pushed the door open slowly. Sure enough, the kitchen was empty.

"Don't you want your gun?" She asked.

"I’m out of ammo anyhow."

"What about your pants?"

"That's probably a good idea."

Jack slipped on his pants, giving Fawn his jockey shorts and T-Shirt. Cautiously, and semi-clothed as they were, they moved through the kitchen. There was a lot of blood on the floor, but no sign of any zombies, or even bodies, for that matter. Outside, the crashing sounds, and cheering, continued. Jack saw a glass case marked "in case of fire". He smashed the glass with a frying pan and removed a hefty fire axe.

"This ought to do it," he said, first feeling it’s heft, and then taking Fawn's hand. They followed the crashing sounds, and for the first time since they had been backed into the cooler, Jack actually felt they had a chance of surviving.