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Authors: Austin Quinn

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BOOK: Undead Honeymoon
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Service Without A Smile

 

 

August 22
nd

 

Let me start off by saying that we are no longer in our bathroom, or our cabin for that matter. With that being said, yesterday and this morning were completely horrifying.

 

I absolutely
hate
dead things that still move.

 

It all started when Finn shook me awake yesterday.

 

“We have to go, now!” he said forcefully.

 

I barely had time to grab my journal before he opened the bathroom door and led us through. It looked like a World War II battle had been fought in our room. The couch and bed were shredded, shards of glass and cushioning were strewn about the floor, and all that remained of the television was a crumbled pile of wire and plastic. Several of the bags Finn brought from the kitchen managed to survive. It was a good thing we’d decided to keep them on the floor. We each picked one up and made our way to the door.   

 

“There have been explosions and gunfire nonstop for the last ten minutes. I don’t know how in the world you slept through it all,” he said. “And it sounds like it’s getting closer.”

 

“I think they’re attacking the top deck, or maybe the outside staterooms, I don’t know. I don’t think we should be here in case they decide to check our cabin again. We’ll be safer if we head into the interior of the ship.”

 

I didn’t have time to think about what Finn was saying. Before I knew it we were stepping outside the cabin and into the hallway. The emergency track lighting was off, and the corridor was eerily dark.

 

We hadn’t walked more than ten feet before I saw the first one. Motionless, silent, and several short yards away, was a corpse. Its back was turned to us, and all I could make out were its shoulders, which were tinged a brownish black color. A disgusting mixture of dried blood and bits of flesh clung to the frayed edges of its sleeves.

 

Finn put a finger to his lips and motioned for us to edge forward. I shook my head, “we can go down the other end of the hallway,” I whispered. As I spoke, I noticed Finn’s eyes widen as he pointed behind me.

 

I turned to see several more standing along the hallway toward the stern end of the ship. The closest was roughly fifty feet from us, but none of them were moving. My legs turned to jelly as my knees nearly buckled. Finn’s hand shot out for me to hold onto, and he leaned in toward my ear.

 

“We have to move forward, Lily,” he whispered softly, “I know you’re scared, so am I. It helps when I think about how slow they are. Even if they wake up we can always outrun them, okay?”

 

He spoke with such conviction that I actually believed him. I somehow managed to steady myself as we made our way forward, but Finn halted as we drew closer to the corpse. I could hear it breathing, or whatever it was trying to do. It was more of a sporadic, congested wheezing sound. The smell of it hit us both at the same time, and the urge to gag nearly overwhelmed me.

 

I watched as Finn pulled a large kitchen knife from the bag he was carrying. “I want you to keep still, and tell me if any of the ones toward the other end of the corridor move, all right?”

 

I nodded, determined to keep my composure. Finn tiptoed up to the corpse and raised the knife above his head. I turned so I wouldn’t see, but I heard a sickening crunch, followed by a light thud as the monster my husband just stabbed fell to the floor.

 

None of the other corpses seemed to notice that one of their own had fallen. I quickly looked back to see Finn waving me toward him. I desperately tried not to look down as I stepped around the rotting remains. The stench of it nearly made me vomit. Finn still held the knife in one hand as he took mine with the other. Its blade was stained black all the way to the handle.

 

He had to repeat the process two more times before we made it to the main promenade. Each time we drew close to one my blood ran cold. I kept thinking they’d start screaming to alert the others. I wish Finn had never told me about them.  

 

We were making our way toward a spiral staircase that led to one of the ship’s buffets when we found our path blocked. In front of us stood the bearded corpse of a man, not unlike the others, except for its stomach. It protruded like an exaggerated beer gut, so much so that the buttons on the corpse’s Hawaiian shirt had popped. 

 

“Wait here, and watch for any kind of movement.” Finn said firmly.

 

I nodded as he cautiously made his way toward the beer gutted creature. As he inched closer it started to twitch.

 

It wasn’t asleep
.

 

My insides knotted as the corpse turned toward my husband.

 

I expected it to screech, but it didn’t. The only noise escaping its putrid lips was low and inhuman. Almost like old machine gears, grinding after years of rust.  

 

Finn raised his bloody kitchen knife, poised to strike, but suddenly halted. Something was different about this one. It was moving extremely
slow
. At the rate it was inching forward it would take forever to reach my husband. Its arms slowly lifted, and I could see the same brownish black substance caked on its gnarled fingers.

 

The odor that emanated from the creature’s body was so repulsive I almost doubled over. It was like a grotesque mixture of rotting meat and expired milk, and as it inched closer the smell became so overpowering I thought I might faint. My nose burned, and I felt a headache coming on. Everything we’d encountered before suddenly seemed like fresh daisies compared to the corpse standing in front of us.

 

Finn held his nose and launched himself forward. The corpse’s arms dropped as his blade found an eye socket. It collapsed to the floor in front of him with a sloshing sound that made my stomach turn. 

 

Finn stepped over it and peered up the stairway. Seeming satisfied that there were no other undead close by, he signaled for me to follow. I stepped over the corpse’s bulging stomach and quickly grasped my husband’s outstretched hand.

 

As we started to climb he dropped the putrid smelling knife and pulled a second from his waistband. We’d ditched our trash bags along the way. They were making too much noise as we moved. As much as we needed food, it wouldn’t do us any good if we were bitten. This journal was tucked snugly in my waistband against the small of my back. 

 

Neither of us spoke as we quietly made our way up the staircase. Soon we found ourselves standing in the front of one of the ship’s many decadent eateries. We’d come in through the side door, and I could see the double doors to the main entrance were still open. There was food in the buffet lines, but most of it was in the process of turning or already spoiled. Finn and I immediately spotted a small group near the reserved seating section about thirty feet away.

 

We counted six of them. Six rotting corpses waiting for the chance to rip us apart.  

 

“We don’t want to risk waking them by killing one at a time,” Finn said. “This is the same buffet I went to the other day, and unless they’ve learned how to open doors, the kitchen should still be clear.”

 

He pointed toward one of the buffet lines in front of us. On the other side of the line I could see a door with the words “Crew Staff Only” printed on it.

 

Just as we began to make our way toward the door something grabbed my arm. I turned to find myself face to face with what used to be a tall blonde woman. It must have been standing behind the door when we came in. It wore a chef’s hat with an Imperial Cruise Line logo embroidered on its front. The creature’s grip was like iron. I tried to yank my arm from its blackened fingers, but it was like trying to bend steel. 

 

It was in that split second that I saw its stomach bulging to the point of making it look pregnant.

 

Then the smell hit me. 

 

I instantly vomited all down its front. I gagged and screamed as its rotten face started to lean toward me. Its blackened teeth snapped sporadically as a pair of lifeless, dull grey eyes bore into mine.     

 

It’s a horrible feeling, wondering how your life will end. Even worse is actually knowing. I was going to die at the hands of an undead corpse, during what was supposed to be the happiest time of my life. 

 

In my terror I’d forgotten about Finn, and the fact that he had a weapon. He came down on the corpse’s arm and sliced it clean off from the elbow. I almost fell backward as the hand released its grip and fell to the floor. Finn didn’t hesitate, and I watched as he plunged the knife into the former chef’s temple. I felt dizzy as I watched its lifeless form crumble to the floor next to the severed arm. A dark, tar like liquid oozed out of its wounds as I stared in horror.

 

“Lily!” Finn yelled as he grabbed my chin and locked eyes with me. “We have to go now!”

 

I nodded as the smell nearly made me get sick again. 

 

We made our way to the end of the nearest buffet lane. My screams had awoken the group we’d spotted earlier, and they’d closed most of the distance between us. They reached through the opposite side of the buffet, their fingertips brushing against us as we reached the kitchen door. Finn turned the handle and kicked the heavy door inward just as one started to climb under the display glass.   

 

We were just a couple feet inside when he turned and looked me over. “Are you okay?” he asked hurriedly. I nodded, and he led me to a nearby counter. After making sure I really was okay he sprinted toward the closest food cart, the ones the crewmembers use to restock the buffets. He pushed it against the door and tipped it on its side. I winced as the cart crashed down with a horrible
CLANG
. The sound of metal against metal echoed through the kitchen as he pushed it against the door.

 

“Don’t worry,” Finn breathed heavily. “I barricaded the other three doors when I was here the first time, so there’s no other way for them to get in.”

 

 

It took almost the whole day before I decided to write about what happened. Finn is setting up a makeshift bed for us on one of the countertops. He used bags of clean aprons and oven mitts for a mattress and pillows. It would be kind of cute if I wasn’t so stressed about all the things trying to kill and eat us.

 

What’s worse is that they’re just outside the doors, waiting.

 

I’m not sure what’s going to happen to us next, but at least we’re in the kitchen. It’s not riddled with bullets and there’s a dry storage area that’s stocked with enough food to keep us fed until doomsday.

 

I just hope it isn’t sooner rather than later...  

 

 

 

August 23
rd

 

Waiting around in a kitchen is not fun. I will admit that it’s better than our cabin, but not by much.

 

Finn found a radio the cooks had hanging near the soup tubs, but the only station he’s gotten so far is some kind of French talk show. It sounds like French, anyways, neither of us are sure.

 

There’s a wall clock over the door we came through, and I’m not sure it’s a good thing. I keep looking at the second hand, willing time to move faster. It’s been eight grueling hours, and we haven’t heard anything outside the doors since this morning. For a moment Finn said he heard something shuffling, but nothing else. We think the corpses near the buffet line have lost interest in us, for now.

 

My experience with the dead chef woman still has me a little shaken. Every time I think about her face I want to cry. Her eyes seemed so sad, almost like a doll’s eyes. It was as if she wanted to be alive, but knew there was no turning back from what she’d become. 

 

Finn keeps trying to comfort me by saying she wasn’t a person anymore, and there was nothing we could have done. But the thing is, she
was
a person. Just a couple weeks ago she was no different from me, and now she’s dead.

 

I really wish we were home.

 

 

 

August 25
th

 

I desperately need a bath, or better yet a
shower
. God what I wouldn’t give for a shower…   

 

Finn doesn’t even notice, and he needs one worse than I do. I told him he smelled like a salty pile of dirty laundry but he just shrugged it off. It must be nice to be a guy sometimes. The last bath I had was during our terrifying ordeal in the cabin, and I don’t think plaster counts as soap. The water is still running, so I might try using one of the oversize dish sinks.    

BOOK: Undead Honeymoon
9.52Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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