WEP: Rabid Air

The blood seeping from the severed fingers at my feet would have made my stomach squirm a few short days ago, but now they are a welcome sight after all I have seen. One of those fingers could have easily been mine as the demented crazies pushed against the boards I was hammering in. Thankfully I have good hand eye coordination. That and my ability to run very fast are the only reason I am the sole survivor on this Hellhole of an island.
I should really use survivor loosely as my bloodied, malnourished and bruised body could be considered borderline at best. At this point the pain has numbed my senses to everything so I am unable to tell you for certain what’s broken and what’s not. For all I know this radio has no signal and I am here talking to myself while waiting to see what those things are going to try next. By the sounds of it I won’t be waiting very long. The glass smashing at the other end of this shack would signify that.
I can see the phlegm dripping from the demented crazy right now. Those dead eyes look ready to pop from its rotten head as it stares at me from the doorway. He’s taking his first step toward me now, his rotting-flesh feet singeing the flooring. Oh, the bucket of nails I set up above the door just dropped and stabbed him in the head. I think you’d call that an introvert porcupine. Now I either have to drag his rotten body out of here or stare at it. Decisions, decisions.
You laugh, but when you’re stuck on a tropical island that has been overrun by demented crazies and you have no internet, no phone, and not even a woman to eyeball, you have to weigh these decisions out to fill your day. I suppose the later isn’t entirely true because there are women, they are just a bit rotten at the moment. If that’s your thing I’d call you a sicko, but I won’t be around to judge much longer, so feel free to enjoy your rotten porn.
Great. Another has appeared in the doorway and it’s a she. She’s surveying the room, not wanting to end up like her friend. I’d describe her to you but I’d feel too dirty doing so. There are some things even I won’t write about. Like how her bikini has somehow stretched within her rotting flesh and now everything is showing. Except it is kind of like a puzzle that you are missing a few pieces to. I guess I can describe it. Never mind me. It must be the fever talking.
Come to paradise they said. Enjoy the clear water they said. Cheap accommodations they said. Unplug from life for a while they said. Whoever they are I’d like to stab in the face with that axe that just swung out and chopped off her feet. Rotting flesh sure has its downside for these demented crazies as it makes it easier to get my Home Alone on. Excuse me. She’s still alive and crawling toward me. I’ll be right…
Where were we? Oh right. That sound you heard was me taking my hammer and bashing her brain in. Rotten brain matter flew everywhere. It is as disgusting as it sounds. But what is a little more rotten flesh stuck to me? By now I probably look like roadkill that’s been left in the desert. Have you ever had rotting guts on you in the humid sun? Not only do you sweat in places that were never meant to sweat but the rotting crap sticks to that sweat and molds right to your skin. At this point there is more of them showing on me than me.
And now they are going with the whole strength in numbers routine. I count five of them staring back at me. Even with that rotting brain they still have some thought process. They are looking at their two dead demented crazy buddies and foaming at the mouth to get at me. They’ve already chowed down on the Big Macs of this Hellhole and now they’ve come for scraps. If I was juicier they’d have rushed me and never let me talk into this thing. I guess it pays to be what dumpster divers settle for. If they get a hold of me they better chew wisely because I’ll try my damnedest to make them choke on me.
Whoa. I almost got you wet. That would have left me completely bored. Speaking of board, did you know that a little rotten flesh can weaken boards enough to cause the floorboards to give way and make a horde of demented crazies plummet into the sea below? The demented crazies can’t swim either. I never knew that. Look at the disgusting creatures boil and sink. Oh, right, you can’t look. You’ll have to take my word for it.
I’m sorry if my voice is starting to go. Even with all of this water it’s been a day since I had a drink. It won’t matter anyway. There are eight more staring at me and the walls are shaking, I’m surrounded. I fear this is the end of my broadcast. If only I had picked a three-hour tour. At least then I’d have Mary Ann to swap spit with. Now all I got is demented crazies.
That sound you heard was me lighting explosives. It’s a make shift bomb so I have no idea if it will work, but in a few seconds we’ll find out. I’m going to sink this tropical shack like the Titanic. Maybe I’ll get lucky and find a door to float on while I await my saviors. Only seconds now. This is Patrick Hatt telling you to stay plugged in. If you want sand and sun, get a sandbox in the backyard. You’ll…
Words: 989

And there we are. Thoughts at your sand bar? I think I’ll stray from any tropical islands. Not that they are any Utopian dream of mine, but I always thought how being away from civilization can leave you up the creek. The more secluded you are the more things can surely go wrong and leave you screwed. Not in the fun way either. You just never know when demented crazies are going to try to eat you.
Enjoy life forget the strife.


Elephant's Child
2016-12-19 21:07:40 - Edit - Reply
Smiling here.
I like the ocean, but sand and heat make me a demented crazy lady. Not rotting yet. Or not much.
Pat Hatt
2016-12-19 22:40:33 - Edit - Reply
haha well going demented would help you stop any such demented creatures, or mix in

2016-12-19 21:10:30 - Edit - Reply
Hi Patrick!
Wow! What a utterly disgusting tale and I can tell you just loved writing it! Not a vacation destination for me, that’s for sure. Yep. The three-day tour would have been a better option for Patrick. I wonder how long he’ll hold out.
Thanks for cheering us up pre-Christmas. Nothing like a nice fresh, juicy zombie tale! Love the way it unfolded. Great broadcast!
As always, Patrick, thanks for joining us for WEP. It’s been great to have you on board with your fascinating take on the challenges.
Merry Christmas! Happy Writerly New Year!
Pat Hatt
2016-12-19 22:41:49 - Edit - Reply
Been fun to join indeed as the mind goes every which way with might come out. He may hold out a while, but I’m betting he’ll get eaten by a shark before he gets saved. Just his luck.

2016-12-19 23:26:16 - Edit - Reply
Now there is a Utopian Dream
for fun in the sun
it sounds like you
needs a place to run
but that is a good way
to get them a free meal
lure people there
by offing a great deal
Pat Hatt
2016-12-20 11:28:39 - Edit - Reply
Victims there with ease, just talk up the nice breeze and offer a discount. Boom, lunch for any demented crazy amount.

2016-12-20 04:19:38 - Edit - Reply
Please excuse me while I go lose my lunch!!! And dinner! My heavens! That was AWFUL! Which I suspect means it’s well-written if it can make me that queasy. I feel like I’ve been to Halloween instead of Christmas…
Pat Hatt
2016-12-20 11:29:44 - Edit - Reply
haha well well-written works for me. Hopefully no barfing spree though, my ocd may run haha Just popped out, so away I went, christmas time or not.
Yolanda Renee
2016-12-20 15:47:12 - Edit - Reply
You just had to go there didn’t you? LOL Christmas nightmares don’t include ghosts this year, but zombies. Wow, so descriptive and as Snowcatcher’s comment verified, vomit inducingly so. Well done!
Note to self – when I dream of the Utopian dream vacation I’ll include zombie killing weapons and an escape route!
Thanks for participating in the WEP Utopian Dream challenge. Wishing you and yours a joy filled holiday and a blessed New Year!
Pat Hatt
2016-12-20 21:43:18 - Edit - Reply
haha have a boat standing by just in case the undead come after you. Hopefully no vomit came due and a great christmas is had at your pad too.
N. R. Williams
2016-12-20 18:48:04 - Edit - Reply
Hi Pat
I thoroughly enjoyed your story. I think I’d blow myself up too, rather than become a zombie. It’s cold in Colorado. I was thinking of Hawaii but not anymore.
Pat Hatt
2016-12-20 21:43:47 - Edit - Reply
There are worse things than cold it would seem haha

Olga Godim
2016-12-20 23:29:20 - Edit - Reply
Oh, this is so yuck! Very cheery for the coming holidays: a paradise island full of zombies.
Happy holidays, Pat!
Pat Hatt
2016-12-21 11:18:26 - Edit - Reply
haha well one can be cheerful that they aren’t on such an island

Nilanjana Bose
2016-12-21 07:21:08 - Edit - Reply
Introverted porcupine haha…a disgustingly funny, or should that be funnily disgusting? piece. Thoroughly enjoyable! Well done!
A bit worrying though since I live on an island…
Pat Hatt
2016-12-21 11:19:16 - Edit - Reply
Hopefully no zombie virus comes near, or you have a boat to get away.

C. Lee McKenzie
2016-12-21 16:33:41 - Edit - Reply
And here I am about to partake of breakfast. Maybe not. Here’s to that bomb putting an end to the island paradise! Thanks for the amazing wake up this morning, Pat.
Pat Hatt
2016-12-21 16:44:23 - Edit - Reply
Saved you some money on the grocery bill at least at my sea haha
Far Away Eyes
2016-12-21 16:40:39 - Edit - Reply
Well done. Paradise is not always what it seems and even when it starts out sublime is surely n turn on a dime.
Merry Christmas Pat. Have a Wonderful New Year.
Pat Hatt
2016-12-21 16:44:55 - Edit - Reply
One wrong turn can sure send things up the creek rather fast.

Pat Garcia
2016-12-21 19:35:01 - Edit - Reply
I must say I fell into your story and got caught up. You have done an excellent job of pulling your reader into the setting of being the only one on the island with a lot of what I will call unknown goons.
Well done.
Have a Merry Christmas and a beautiful walk over into the new year.
Shalom aleichem,
Pat Garcia
Pat Hatt
2016-12-21 20:02:12 - Edit - Reply
Glad it sucked you in as I gave the island a spin.

LuAnn Braley
2016-12-22 17:51:18 - Edit - Reply
So I guess Walking Dead got it wrong. If you are covered in zombie guts, they’ll still come after you. Good to know. I’ll pass that along to my younger son. He’s our unofficial zombie apocalypse warden.
And the zombies would have to have been made/transformed on the island…because what zombie with any smarts would leave all the potential food in the cities? :p
Fun, fun story!
Pat Hatt
2016-12-22 17:56:00 - Edit - Reply
Some experiment gone wrong and out they came, eating tourists all the same!
J Lenni Dorner
2016-12-23 04:37:49 - Edit - Reply
Ha ha ha. I love what you did here! Great work.
Pat Hatt
2016-12-23 11:13:48 - Edit - Reply
Glad it was fun to give a run!
DG Hudson
2016-12-23 18:50:28 - Edit - Reply
Yeah right! It’s the same reason I don’t drive down unpaved roads in certain areas of the US. There is a dangerous side to being ‘away from it all’, not the least of which could be a Sasquatch. As for island vacations, we might wonder why the package is so cheap. Enjoyed your story, and the fact that the person relating the events is intent on getting the information out to the readers. That’s the writer showing through. Well done, Pat!
Pat Hatt
2016-12-23 19:00:22 - Edit - Reply
Yep, being away from it all sure isn’t all it is cracked up to be. Sasquatches and zombies may be the least of ones troubles haha