I was startled. Someone else? Now, this is the part where you may question the title. Don't cry if it's not exactly what it implies. Wait, and read what I have to say.
…
The world is a small place in some contexts. But it's bloody huge in others. This context places itself on the first option. I had met with a workmate. Fionna. I knew this because I had peeped out of the bush to check if friend or foe. I called out.
"Fionna?" I asked, slightly worried about whether it was really her or if I was hallucinating.
"How do you know my name?" Came the reply.
"It's me, Flack."
After a quick greeting, we decided to sit down on an oddly square shaped log. We talked for what seemed like days, but only turned out to be around 15 minutes. My watch was dead so I didn't know exactly how long. She told me her story. Apparently, she had been evacuating from another place via military cargo plane. The plane had a serious malfunction in both of its left engines and began to drop. Even though the pilot regained control somehow, she found herself pushed out of the rear door of the plane by some mysterious man. She fell into the waters just beyond the island, and swam over to seek refuge. She had found no one, as did I. But then she found me. Although it seemed too good to be true, I went along with it and we walked further into the forest.
…
Miracles. Dozens of them. We found fruit, animals and an abandoned hut we could shelter in. No tools, however. For some reason I had a feeling we had to go deeper. Deeper into the island. And not by the means of walking. By the means of digging. I told Fionna about my idea, but she said we must stay close to the hut. I accepted, and began to create makeshift tools out of wood.
…
Seemingly instantly, I was confronted with a cold blackness. Night had fallen. I ran back to the hut, conscious that things might appear and attack me. As I closed the door, I heard a sort of 'fwataang' sound. It was as if a projectile had hit the door. I opened the door again and looked at the front. As I did so, I saw that there was a tall skeleton holding a loaded bow in his hand. I slammed the door as quickly as I could and went to alert Fionna. I turned around only to see her with a pair of green hands around her neck as she was slowly being pulled out of the window. I called her name in distress and ran over. The hands had a tight grip on her neck and she was unable to breath. I pulled my makeshift pickaxe from my wooden chest and embedded it into the hands. The reaction was Fionna's body slamming into mine and a long, slow groan from outside. As I fell, I saw a bloodied face. The undead were crowding around outside. We had no means of escape, and the only weapons we had were makeshift wooden pickaxes. I gave one to Fionna, and braced for a battle.