Romance: Welcome to Zombie Island: A Tale of Zombie Romance and Survival (Post-Apocalyptic, Zombie, Spirit, Survival) by Natalie Nixon
Authors: Natalie Nixon
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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.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
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
"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.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
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
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