CHAPTER 11: SAVED FROM OURSELVES

Mike and Tina got out of the car and surveyed the area. It was a big, empty field, a few yards away from a small farmhouse. Mike hauled guns, flags, matches, and other weapons from the trunk. Tina's favourite was a golf club. It could take a zombie's head clean off when aimed at the right angle.

"So how are we going about this?" She asked, swinging the club around experimentally.

Mike laughed, "Could you put that down for now? There aren't any zombies for miles, I promise you."

Tina dropped the club, and went to wrap her arms around her boyfriend, kissing him.

"What time is the plane supposed to be here?" she asked.

"Two, and it's just past twelve thirty so we better hurry." Mike replied.

"What do we need?" Tina asked.

"I'm going into that bush to get wood for a bonfire; hopefully they'll see it and know we're in trouble. You stay here and work on setting up these flags, keep your gun close, okay?" Mike told her.

"I thought you said there were no zombies for miles!" Tina teased, kissing him.

"Just in case!" he called as he jogged away from her and into the cover of trees, an axe in one hand and a gun in the other.

Tina began fitting the large red flags onto their poles, and sticking them into the ground in various places around the field. As she worked, she couldn't help but sing.

"You with the sad eyes, don't be discouraged, oh I realise it's hard to take courage…"

Tina liked to sing. She MISSED it. And now, when no one was around to get upset by it, she was going to sing the only song she could remember.

"And I see your true colours shining through. I see your true colours, and that's why I love you! So don't be afraid to let them show, your true colours. True colours are beautiful like a rainbow."

She smiled to herself for a minute, imagining that maybe someone was joining in.

And then she DID hear a noise, but it didn't sound like singing.

It was growling. Growling, and snarling, and the pounding of rotting flesh on the soft earth as the thing raced toward her from the farmhouse. There was only one. And it was hungry. And it was angry.

"It mustn't like music." Tina thought.

Instead of grabbing her gun, like Mike would have wanted her to, she picked up her golf club. She had time to set herself in the right position, swing the club over her shoulder like a batter, and check that the sharper end of the club was pointed in the right direction.

Smiling as the beast approached her, she swung her club at its jugular with all her might, and sent the creature's head flying.

"FORE!" Mike yelled, laughing as he jogged back with an armful of wood.

Tina laughed, "Do you want me to grab the wagon and help with that?"

Mike looked at the one log in his arms and thought of the dozens more back in the words, "Please." he said.

After they'd hauled all the wood to the field, Mike set to work on digging a small pit for the logs.

"Shouldn't it be bigger?" Tina asked.

"The key is to build it up high." Mike said.

They piled logs into the pit until almost one thirty, and then Mike poured gasoline on it.

"Seems like a waste of gas." Tina frowned.

"We can stop and get more on our way home." Mike assured her.

He lit a match and threw it onto the pile, doing this a few times on every side until the book was empty.

Tina smiled, admiring their work.

"How much longer?" she asked.

He checked his watch, "Twenty minutes. Want lunch?"

Tina nodded, going to her bag to pull out leftover casserole from a few nights ago.

"Just once," Mike said through a mouthful of meatless, cheese-less noodle casserole, "I would like a meal with MEAT in it."

"Mike, by now the meat in the stores would have gone bad. And I don't trust hunting, do you? What if the animal's infected? It's better to be safe than sorry." Tina said.

They finished their lunch and got up to watch for the plane.

"One more thing," Mike said, pulling out a couple of flares, "We can wave these around so they know we're alive."

Mike lit the flares right at two o'clock, and they began waving them around, walking around the field looking for the plane.

"Look! There!" Tina pointed in the sky at a small red and yellow plane directly over the field. It's nose was pointed down to land.

"We did it, Tina!" Mike yelled happily over the sound of the engine, the flares and the crackling flames, "We're going to be saved!"

But Tina couldn't move. The nose of the plane was pointed right at her and getting closer by the second. She was paralyzed with fear. Couldn't the pilot see her?

"Tina!" Mike yelled, trying to get his frozen girlfriend to move out of the way, "Tina, no!" Mike jumped onto her, pushing her out of the way of the plane just as its nose hit the ground and it slid through the flames toward them.

Tina heard a mangled cry and turned around just in time to see her boyfriend be sliced to pieces in the front propeller of the crashed plane. Caught on a piece of bone from Mike's leg, the bloody propeller whirred to a stop, making horrible groaning noises.

Tina was too shocked to even cry. She pulled out her phone immediately and dialed Quinn, who picked up on the first ring.

"What's wrong?" she answered.

"Plane crashed. Mike's dead. Come get me, please." Tina gasped, tears finally freeing themselves from her eyes.

"I'm on my way." Quinn said, and the line went dead.

Tina looked up, willing the plane to stop making such horrible noises. Until she realized the noises weren't coming from the plane. Four zombies fell from the plane's door, one wearing an outfit that suggested her had been the pilot.

Tina screamed and reached for her gun, but as soon as the noise left her mouth the monsters were on her. They scratched and bit at her, and she screamed and kicked back at them.

One zombie latched its jaws onto her shoulder, tearing a great chunk of flesh from her. Another tore skin from her face with its claws as she attempted to kick at the one chewing on her leg. In the dark dance of bloody, and tangled limbs, Tina was lost.