Club Dead: Zombie Isle Page 3
Natalie reached down to pet the kitten.
“Ouch! The little bugger bit me.”
Bo examined the bite mark on her hand.
“Oh, well. Hopefully we’ll find land soon. We can get a doctor to look at it then,” Natalie said.
“Yeah. I guess if it’s a long trip we can eat the kitten,” Bo laughed.
Natalie giggled, and then felt a strange pain in her head.
“I hope it doesn’t take so long to find land that I get hungry enough to eat you.” Natalie didn’t laugh. In fact, the thought of eating Bo didn’t seem unreasonable at all.
Natalie’s eyes turned milky under the dim moonlight. Her mouth watered with anticipation.
*
Outside the small airport a mere three football fields away from Club Caribe, one hundred and twenty Frenchmen weary from a direct ten-hour flight sweltered in the noonday sun.
“Where are the vans to drive us to the club? This is an outrage!” an aging man said, his white shirt translucent from sweat. “This is my third trip to this resort. There are no Goes to greet us. There are no vans to drive us. I have paid many Euros for this vacation. I demand to see the Captain of the resort.”
A representative from the airport management, a young man in his twenties, stood in silent attention and allowed the upset traveler to vent. In the background, an old man strummed two chords on a five-string guitar, singing ‘If you can afford a vacation to my island you can afford to put money in my hat.’
“Sir, we have tried calling but no one will answer. You said that you have been to the club before. It is but a short walk to the reception area. It will take you not more than fifteen minutes,” the young man said.
The Frenchman threw his arms toward the sky and cursed. “Come, I will lead the way.” He grabbed his luggage and led the march forward.
The others quickly fell behind him. All were eager to check in and find respite from the blazing sun above.
The van ride to the resort took only three minutes. The trek on foot made the experience entirely different. The group passed an empty guard shack, which made the leader fume even more from the lack of management.
Nearing the reception area, the leader saw the awaiting Goes through the trees and shrubs gathering for their arrival. Each was dressed in bright colors of the day’s theme. Sweat rolled down his forehead and stung his eyes. His ire grew to the point he felt like his head would explode.
As he rounded the topiaries, Club Caribe’s entourage waited to greet him with open arms and open mouths. Barke and Chocki, the Captain and Co-Captain of the resort were in the front. Both wore teal sneakers with matching shirts. The swarm of Goes, many of whom he met on his trip three months before, were behind them. A large group of guests had also gathered for the new arrivals with unprecedented zeal.
The leader froze in his tracks and let his luggage fall to the ground. Gasps and startled cries erupted from behind him. Others joined by his side and laid eyes on the blood stained zombies of the resort.
A tradition of open buffet to greet newly arrivals was suddenly established at Club Caribe. The zombies filled their bellies on the guests, and eagerly waited for the next plane to land.
The End
From Severed PRESS
Alien microbes mutate with the DNA of the dead, reanimating corpses to life. A cop, Rico, and a junkie streetwalker, Angie, barely escape the onslaught of zombies. As they head for sanctuary, a jealous pimp seeks revenge, and Angie’s drug addiction, become a greater threat than the undead.
From Severed PRESS
INTRODUCTION BY JOE MCKINNEY
“Scioneaux and Hatchell double-down on the horror and thrills in this gritty, action-packed zombie thriller. This one has real bite." – Jonathan Maberry, New York Times best-selling author of Rot & Ruin and Dead of night.
"Scioneaux and Hatchell give you a fast-paced narrative full of oozing bodies and narrow escapes and poignant ruminations on the fragility of a man’s body and the resiliency of his character" – Joe Mckinney, Bram Stoker award winning author of Flesh Eaters and Inheritance.
From Severed PRESS
««««« Rated “The Perfect Read” by The Bookie Monster!
“SLIPWAY GREY is just as lovably cheesy and sleazy as you’d expect from its wonderful serial killer + giant shark premise. It’s goofy, gory fun!” -- Jeff Strand, author of WOLF HUNT
Dane Hatchell, Club Dead: Zombie Isle
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