Part 7 (1/2)

The arm went in another tree, but now I had the torso and head to deal with. I took the rock and went to work on his fat neck. It reminded me of videos where guys are cutting off whale blubber. Each shallow cut separated some flesh, which was white and puckered.

I pushed his body to roll him over and realized that the head wasn't that heavy. Didn't even want to think about what I had to do. I wanted to go fis.h.i.+ng, hunt, find some food and then rest for the whole day. My body hurt everywhere from the battle yesterday, and I wanted to sleep.

I sighed and set the rock against his gut, just under his ribcage, and pushed hard. A terrible noise came out like a long, nasty fart as trapped air escaped from the wound. I fell back as stuff squirted out. The smell was horrendous. I backed away like a crab, my feet kicking at the sand until I ran into her and she tried to sink her teeth into my shoulder. Idiot. She still had her gag on. I jumped to my feet and shook my finger at her.

No!

This was getting messy. There were already chunks of him all over the place, and now a river of pink water was leaking onto the sand. I decided to move him close to the water so I could work and have the tide clean up the mess later.

I dragged him, which wasn't easy, since I had already removed his legs and arm. It left a line of gore behind him, but there was nothing to be done about it. I would have to move that sand around to clean it up. The rock knife was slippery in my hand, so I rubbed it in sand and started cutting again.

It took about an hour to get through his gut, but in the end, I got it separated into two halves. I would go through the ribcage and slice him sideways, but it was too hard to cut through all that bone.

His guts were the worst. They were a putrid gray color with hardly any blood-just lots of water. I dug out his intestines and the rest of his organs and stuff that fell out, loaded those into one of the suitcases and hauled it away to dump in the woods. The bottom of the torso went into another bag, and I dragged it away as well. Now I just had his upper body to deal with.

Good Christ. Was it Miller time yet?

One of the bags that washed up had turned out to be a very nice backpack. I loaded his upper half into it, then strapped it on. All kinds of stuff squished together and then fell out of the bag as I adjusted it. I gathered up the parts and put them back in. Staggered forward as the weight s.h.i.+fted, but then I straightened up and was able to move with him back there.

I went back to the trees and found a nice thick one to climb. I went up about twenty feet and then slid out of the backpack. I fixed it to a pair of branches so he would have a nice view of the water as it came in and out. I made my way down the tree, then went to the beach and bathed in the surf.

I was exhausted, but I had to eat. I waded out and dug up some oysters. I got five of them-wow. I chased a crab and took my feast back to the camp. After a night and a day, the fire was down to almost nothing. She watched me as I stoked it back up, but she didn't say anything. I had to move the little palm tree wall in front so the flames wouldn't freak her out.

After a few minutes of silence, I decided to say something first.

”I'm sorry about your husband. I think he has a good view now.”

She snarled back at me.

”I didn't mean to, you know. It was an accident. I just wanted to get him worn out, then tie him to something. You like it, why wouldn't he?”

She moaned at me.

”It was nothing personal. I bet he was a nice guy and all. He was rich, right? A girl like you would be with a rich guy. Not some dork like me.” I smiled. This is the part where the girl says, ”You're all I need. I don't care about money, cars and jewelry. I just care about you.” Then you take her to bed for like a whole weekend. The only place I was taking her was to test as an anchor if she p.i.s.sed me off again.

She growled at me.

”We're better off without him. We don't need him messing up our relations.h.i.+p, right?”

Moan.

”Just you and me, baby. Just you and me.”

I broke out the rum and drank half the bottle.

Day 22.

My girlfriend is a Dirty Pirate.

Yesterday, I was concerned about leaving the husband's blood everywhere. Would it do anything bad to animals or sea creatures? I found a crab this morning. Quick little b.a.s.t.a.r.d that tried to snap me a few times. Snapping. I'm used to that after three weeks on a deserted island with a freaking zombie.

G.o.d-I should just kill her and get it over with. Then bury the body and kiss my million-dollar book deal goodbye. I'll never get on CNN if I off her. I might get a mention when they find her body, but it won't be the kind of mention I want.

Maybe I should find a different place for her husband's parts. I guess I can try finding a soft spot in the jungle to bury him.

I took my prize to a little arena I had built. When I was a kid, we lived near the water. Sometimes, we would get crabs worked up and put them in a little arena to fight. I had the same idea here, except he would be fighting the zombie disease. And if it caught it, I would just smoosh the little b.a.s.t.a.r.d.

I had a few chunks of her husband's blood and flesh in the place, just tiny bits of it. The plan was to put the crab in and wait for him to eat some. I don't know if a zombie crab would even freak me out. I've seen enough crazy s.h.i.+t in the last three weeks to last a lifetime.

The crab marched around in circles, but he wasn't interested in the blood and bits of goo. I picked some up and tried to feed him, but he fought back by latching onto one of my thumbs. Ouch! I shook him loose and almost tossed him on the fire right then and there.

I grabbed a stick and let him latch onto that with one claw, then moved it so he could get his other claw on it. Holding him in the air, I grabbed him around the back and angled him up. Took the gooey stuff and pressed it against his little mouth. He tried to fight back, but I pressed until some coated his little feeler things. I took another piece and did the same thing. Then I smeared blood on his mouth.

Put him back in the little prison and waited. I dug a hole and put seawater in, but it drained into the sand. I got a makeup bag out of my supply of suitcases, filled it with seawater, and put that in the hole with him. He wandered up to it, trying to fit his body in.

Ah, s.h.i.+t! I fed him that zombie c.r.a.p; now I won't be able to eat him. I looked over at her. She was attached to the tree by her neck this morning. She didn't exactly smile encouragingly. She moaned at me, low in her throat. I pretended like she was trying to be s.e.xy. Then I thought about the aroma drifting toward me and gagged.

That brings me back to problem number two.

She smells. Bad. I mean she smells rotten. It's not like I can give her a bath with soap. Every time I get close to her, I have to hold my nose or the smell almost knocks me over. I mean she smells like ... well, death. For a while, it was the stuff in her stomach, and yeah, I planned to clean that out again today. I was able to cover up the smell of fish and seawater by dousing her in some Old Spice cologne I found in a bag. But now, it just sat on top of the stink.

While I waited on the crab, I took her to the stream and removed her hula girl outfit. That is something else I can do today: make her a new gra.s.s skirt. I suppose I could dress her in some of the clothes I found, but if you had a chance to dress a girl up like this, you would do it, right?

Right?

RIGHT?!.

I took her coconut top off and sat her in the stream by using my well-practiced zombie-tripping technique. She fell near the edge of the water and tried to bite my arm. I yanked it back from the gag, then double-checked to make sure it was still secure. I loosened it and re-tied it just in case.

I took a tiny bottle of Head and Shoulders from one of the bags I had found in the tail section. It had maybe half a teaspoon of shampoo in it. I had used half the other day on myself. Now I was going to use my last smear of shampoo on a dead girl. As I scrubbed, some of the hair came out in clumps. I tossed these aside and tried to ignore the open wounds left on her head.

I washed her body as best I could and picked the bugs from various crevices. Dear Diary, let me just say that you do not want the details of some of the places I had to go to get to them. I washed her all over, but it was not fun. I used to enjoy this, especially her top half, but now she was getting stiff in all the wrong places. Her b.r.e.a.s.t.s no longer give way when I push against them. I could feel a lump in there and wondered if she had a cancer growth or something. Then I realized her flesh was shriveling around her implants. I can't believe I used to think they were real. Just goes to show, zombify a chick and her true colors come out.

I tugged her away from the stream and into the sun so she could dry off. I tied her to a tree and she stared up at the sun for a while.

I went back to check on the crab, but there was no change. I pushed him and he turned to snap his claws at my stick. When I went back to her, she was hooting and calling at the sky. I don't get that. Does she think she can talk to the clouds? I touched her cheek, and she turned her cold face to look at me. A spider had taken up residence by her ear, and it looked like it was checking out the cavity as a place to hide or catch prey. I knocked it off her head, and when it hit the ground, I mushed it.

Then I ate it.

It wasn't that big, and a little protein doesn't hurt when you are starving to death. It was pretty stupid, though. What if the spider had the zombie virus? G.o.d d.a.m.n it! Was I going to end up spending my entire life worrying about every little morsel I ate?

I put her coconut halves back on and tied them tight so she looked like she had cleavage again-a little shriveled now, but something to look at just the same. I took my time tucking them in, enjoying how they felt, since in a few more days, they would probably be as hard as potatoes. She stared at the sun, then at me. Whenever her good eye settled on me, she drew her lips back from her teeth.

I brushed sand off her face, avoiding her teeth. Her dead eye is getting pretty bad. It looks like a raisin and just sort of floats there. I reached out, touched it, and the thing rolled around. It had a hollow feel in the socket, like a dried acorn in a sh.e.l.l when you shake it. How come that doesn't bother her? I clenched my teeth and touched the eye with both fingers, which was a huge mistake, because it came loose.

Dropped the eye, jumping back as if it were a bug trying to bite me. Well, that wasn't so bright. Now she would have a hole. I left her alone for a bit and went out to find some rocks. She walked around in circles. I wonder if she has trouble with depth perception, only having one eye and all. I kept an eye on her the entire time, since both of mine work. I wonder why she doesn't try to follow or bite me as much as she used to. She was always trying to attack me. Now she wanders around like a lost puppy. I think her body may be slowing down and affecting the way her brain works.