Ponoi: A Paradise to Die For

Act 1: Blood

“Get up!”

Hoodoo found himself rolled violently off the couch to land painfully on the hard wooden floor. He looked up to see his assailant, the purple zony, standing sourly above him.

“What the hell?”

“It’s your watch. Besides, your snoring could, and probably did, wake the dead.”

“Thank you!” called out Longshot. The stallions had graciously (almost as if they had a choice) given the mares the back room and as such were all piled in the front room.

It was decided that since the four immunes were the only ponies capable of dealing with the infected, they’d get the honor of guard duty. He had last watch.

“You could have just shook me or something.”

“Yeah. I could have.” She turned and walked back to her room, his scowl chasing her. With a groan, he stood up and cracked his back. It was going to be a long two hours of staring at nothing.

They’d left the door open just a crack so he could see outside. With a grunt, he nudged it open a bit more and took a look.
Well at least it wasn’t nothing.

The bodies from yesterday were still there. After all, where would they go? However they were now joined by about seven zombies who were busy eating the corpses. Being vegetarians, equines lacked the sharp teeth necessary for meat eating. As such, they had to grip the flesh in their jaws and shake it loose. The result was congealed blood and bits of rotting flesh flying almost comically around them.

Hoodoo resisted the urge to throw up.

Shuddering a little, he sat in front of the door and watched the ‘cleanup crew’ work. In about an hour they managed to pick about four corpses clean, in addition to the sixteen or so they’d had before his shift. They were machines, never stopping, never tiring, and never full.

They were also very boring. Horrible, bloodthirsty, and monstrous, but boring.

“Wait. Why am I just sitting here? I got zombies to bash!”

He put on a huge shit-eating grin and stepped out of the shack, closing the door behind him. Standing on the deck, he watched for a few minutes. The stupid things hadn't even noticed him yet. Smirking, he let out a sharp whistle.

Seven heads immediately snapped to him. Thus began the slow forward shuffling and incessant moaning. Just like in the stories.

Now things got interesting.

When the closest one got about three feet away he jumped. It was an earth pony mare with half of her face a bleeding mess. The rest followed suit as he landed, two hooves down, on the top of her head. There was a resounding squish and she lay still.

Turning on instinct, he bucked another straight in the chest. The zombie flew back about five feet before crashing into the ground. It sat there, struggling to breath with the enormous dent he’d put in its chest. Even with the damage, it was already trying to get up. He ran over and stomped on its head.

The zombie’s skull exploded in a shower of blood, brains and broken bones. Hoodoo stared at it for a few seconds. He always knew he was strong, but…DAMN! Two days ago he was singing a crappy song in a club and now he was smashing heads with one kick.

It frightened him a little.

A moan from behind him stole his attention and he turned to lay down another punch.

And so it went. All told, it took him about three minutes to handle the remaining zombies. Which meant he still had another hour before anypony else would wake up. Giving a sigh of boredom, he started walking amongst the corpses, looking for anything to keep him occupied.

Had that zombie always been there? He couldn’t really recall seeing one slumped against a tree like that. Curiosity overpowering caution, he trotted up to the crouching corpse. Looking at it now, he definitely didn’t recall it being there yesterday.

He might have just missed it. After all, you don’t really notice everything when you’re fighting for your life. Or maybe one of the others got it earlier. He couldn’t have been the only one to get bored.

He leaned forward, giving it a once over. It was a zebra mare, probably pretty before…changing. He slowly reached out and gave her a tap.

He jumped back as the corpse shifted than fell back to its original position. He stayed there for maybe five minutes. Finally, giving a sigh of defeat, he chuckled to himself.

“You’re getting paranoid, Hoodoo. Just some poor bitch that got killed is all.” Now smiling, he turned back to the door, planning to finish his watch inside.

“Rrrraaaaaaaaa!”

“SHIT!”

A zombie had snuck up behind him! The second he turned around it had jumped him, using momentum to force him on the ground. Within a second it had its teeth on his neck and started ripping. He screamed as he felt flesh tear and hot blood splash against his neck.

*Crash*

The zombie fell off him, blood streaming from its head. An end table coated in a golden aura floated above its head. The table flew down again, turning the skull into paste.

Hoodoo idly felt his neck. The wound was superficial at best, little more than a scrape. And since he was supposed to be immune he didn’t think it was that big of a deal. He turned to see Longshot who stood over him with an impassive stare.

“Hey, thanks…”

Longshot suddenly reared up and brought both his front hooves down on Hoodoo’s face.

“Now SHUT UP!” He walked back to the shack without another word. Hoodoo just laid there, hooves to his head
Somehow he knew this was going to be a bad day.
***********************

“Now if we ration it right, the food there could last a week. Maybe ten days if we push it. Medicine on the other hoof…”

Hoodoo wasn’t paying attention. He didn’t give a rat’s ass about all this ‘rationing’ shit. Especially when they didn’t even have the stuff they were supposed to be rationing yet. No, what he cared about was whether or not he developed heat vision and whether or not he could use it to blow a hole in Longshot’s head.

So far, results were not promising.

“If everything goes well, we should be safe there until help arrives.” Cinnamon looked up from the map they’d found. “Any questions?”

“Yeah, I got one.” He raised his hand, almost like being back in school. “Why are we just sitting here talking instead of actually getting shit done?” The older ponies face took on a disappointed frown. Yep, school.

“Fine. You have everything right?”

All four of them had been outfitted with new saddlebags which had been loaded up with first aid. Well, not loaded up. More like ‘anything we can spare even though you’re putting your sorry asses on the line instead of us’.

Swan was still upset they couldn’t find her a new paddle.

“Of course.”

“Yeah.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You know it.”

“Alright then.” He turned towards the exit. “Doormare.”

“Quit calling me that!”

“Then tell us your name, ya git!”

“Fuck you!”

Cinnamon rolled his eyes and motioned for him to just open the door. He complied, and quickly before running back to stand behind them. Coward.

Surprisingly there weren’t any more zombies outside. Just the half eaten and/or freshly dead corpses littering the sand.
“Shouldn’t we clean those up?” asked Swan. Longshot snorted.

“Who cares? We’re leaving anyway.”

“Still, they deserve a burial.”

“Yeah, they do.” Cinnamon walked up behind them to stare at the carnage. There was something profoundly sad in his eyes. “I’ll see what I can do. But you need to get going.”

“Right.” Spurna immediately took the lead. “You can last for a few hours on your own, right?” He nodded. “Good. Come on. Celestia aint gonna wait around all day for us to lie about. Let’s move.”

They stepped off the porch and made their way onto the fine sand.

Out into hell.

“Good luck,” he called from behind them. “And keep an eye out for my niece.”

“What’s she look like?”

“She’s pink and crazy.” Then he closed the door. Spurna shrugged.

“Right then, just have to get this key thing. How hard could it be?” Longshot stared at the stairs tentatively.

“Wait, why are we all doing this?” He pointed at Swan. “Can’t you just fly there and grab the key?”

“I could…but I would most likely perish.” She threw a hoof skyward, prompting them to look up.

“Oh…” The sky was swarming with zombie pegasai. Hoodoo could see at least fifty, maybe even a hundred, drifting lazily on the breeze. Spurna gave a nervous cough.

“Right…let’s just get going.”

The shed was at the base of a hill that had a flight of wooden stairs leading up it. It led directly to the bungalow section Cinnamon lived in. It was meant to give guests easy access to the beach, but now just gave zombies a way down to the shore. Luckily, they’d killed the curious ones yesterday, so they were in the clear. For now.

“You know we’re gonna die, right?”

“Thank you Longshot.”

“Anytime.”

Hoodoo sighed and kept walking. The wooden stairs were long and well maintained. He took a look out across the shore. The sun was just starting to rise out over the ocean casting everything in a golden sheen.

“Amazing isn’t it?” He turned to Swan who was three steps above him. “Such beauty even in this chaos."

He nodded.

“Hey check it out. The dangler’s twitching.” He transferred his gaze to the cluster off trees and saw that the hanged pony was in fact moving.

“Well look at that.” He turned to Longshot. “Dude must have got bit before he hung himself.” They looked back at the corpse, just watching it a while. “Could have sworn it was dead yesterday.”

“Maybe there’s a time delay, like in the stories.”

“A sunrise over one of the most beautiful islands in the world and you two notice the dead pony,” Spurna admonished.
They shrugged and resumed walking. Curiously Longshot started to lag near the top and by the time they finished, he looked near death.

“How is it that I’m the one who got stomped in the nuts, thanks for that by the way, yet you’re having trouble with stairs?”
“Bad…knee. Not good…with stairs.” The unicorn resumed panting. Hoodoo rolled his eyes.

The top of the stairs opened out into a small courtyard with two bungalows and a path between them. Swan and Spurna stood in between them, talking. He didn’t pay much attention. Mare talk never really held much interest for him.

Once again he felt boredom creeping up on him. Despite the wound on his neck (the gauze pad Trip applied itched like hell) his lesson had gone unlearned. So he found himself creeping up to the nearest bungalow. Number twelve.

They were standard fake wood affairs supposed to give the impression of living in an island village which was completely ruined by the spark stone lights strung up just inside the door. He could also here faint music coming from inside.

Wait…it was that song. He knew that song. It was the song that cost him wife number two. And gained him wife number three.
He looked back at his friends? Acquaintances? Shit shovelers? He’d have to figure out just what they were later. The two mares were still quietly discussing…something. Longshot was still stretching out his knee. That might be a problem later.

But that was later and this was now. Plus, there was porn music coming from the bedroom. Also grunts, but not the kind he expected. They seemed off. How could he resist?

Tentatively, he trotted up to the door and inched it open.

“Awww, what the fuck?”

The music was playing from an unattended record player that had probably been going for some time. How did he know this? Because there was a pretty green mare with a bite in her leg strapped to a bed while a rotting corpse sat down next to the wall.

“Seen some crazy shit in my day, but this?” With a sigh he turned to the struggling zombie. The second he came in she’d started straining the ropes to get at him. He could just leave her…no. The thought of something like that left a nasty feeling in his gut.

Dead or alive, nopony deserved to be left like that.

He reached over and quickly stomped on her neck. The mare twitched once before relaxing.

Deed done, he turned to the corpse.

“Ya know, when I sang ‘Go fuck with a zombie,’ I didn’t think anypony’d actually take my advice.”

The corpse sprang up and bit him on the shoulder, just above his jacket.

“FUCK!” Again? Seriously?

He rolled, using the colt’s momentum against him. He ended on top and ripped its mouth off him. A quick head-butt stunned him enough for Hoodoo to roll off. Once on his feet, it was a simple matter to kick the fucker in the head. A small amount of brains (completely understandable considering he tried to hump a zombie) splattered over the bed sheets.

It was at that exact moment Swan burst in.

“I heard a scream! What’s…” She trailed off after seeing the tied up zombie, the dead zombie, the record player, and the camera in the corner.

“As much as you want to deny it, it was exactly what it looks like.”

All she did was stare, her jaw practically on the floor. He didn’t blame her. Out of all the weird shit he’d heard about, seen, or done (don’t ask), this took the prize for most fucked up fetish ever.

“These ponies disgust me sometimes.” She turned and left. Realizing he probably shouldn’t let the wound sit there, he went to the bathroom. Unlike the rest of the shack which was done in wood, the bathroom had a more modern style using that patterned white tile one usually associates with bathrooms.

Oddly enough, there was an energy bar sitting on the counter. His stomach rumbled just looking at it. Ripping off the wrapper with his teeth, he ate the entire thing in two bites.

Hoodoo felt…better. The wound in his shoulder even hurt less. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, he ignored the feeling and washed out his bite. Finding nothing of value, he left.

Swan was waiting for him in the front room. They exchanged a brief nod and went out to meet Spurna and Longshot. The zony’s eyes widened at the sight of his shoulder.

“What the hell happened to you?” He shrugged, then winced as he realized how stupid that was with a hurt shoulder.
“Just a scratch.” One black eyebrow went up on the purple mare’s face.

“Alright then…No more adventures,” she scolded. “Things are going to be hard enough without you running off like a fucking toddler!” He rolled his eyes and nodded. “Good. Now I think fourteen is this way…”

“Wait, wait, wait! You THINK? Don’t you ponies live here?” asked Longshot.

“In the diamond section,” Hoodoo and Spurna rattled off in unison.

“I lived in the hotel. I rarely had reason to come here,” Swan stated. He stared at them in incredulously.

“Unbelievable.”

Spurna shrugged and started walking. Having no other leads they followed (Hoodoo was pleased to see Longshot limping) along the path. He hung back with Swan.

“You alright?” She gave him a look.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“We just saw some really freaky shit. Or at least what was trying to be some real freaky shit. Just making it’s not bothering you.”

“There are worse things in life than two corpses and bad music. Is it bothering you?”

“A little yeah. I mean, what kind of sick fuck actually fucks a zombie?”

“Isn’t that one of your song lyrics?”

“Well, yeah, but…”

“Bloody hell.” It was just a whisper, but they heard it all the same. Dashing ahead, Swan nearly ran into Spurna, who was just sitting there a few feet beyond. Swan looked like she was going to say something, but stopped and joined the zony. He ran up to meet them. Yesterday they’d charged a mob of bloodthirsty cannibals. And Swan just saw the voyeur shoot from hell. What could possibly…

Oh.

“Somepony’s having a bad day.”

He couldn’t have possibly put it better himself.

One thing was for sure, Cinnamon was a valued employee. Why else would they give him a hut with a pool right in front of it?
The blood was a bit off-putting though.

Actually, with how much there was, it was downright terrifying. Anypony would think so when they couldn’t tell whether it was filled with water or blood. Or when it was filled with dead bodies. Or when there was a crying, blood red pegasus colt sitting in the middle of the carnage.

“I’m so sorry…” he whispered to a particularly big stallion with a knife sticking out of his back. They stared slack jawed, trying to process how that much blood could possibly come from just five bodies. A minute passed with them doing nothing but watch the red pony weep, the blood of the dead indistinguishable from the color of his coat. After what seemed like an age, Swan cleared her throat.

“Mister…are you alright?” He said nothing. Just kept looking at the bodies. “Sir? Sir, can you hear me?” She stepped closer, going so far as to enter the water with him. “Sir? Are you…”

“DOES IT LOOK LIKE I’M FUCKING ALRIGHT?” he suddenly yelled. All four of them jumped. The colt glared at them, steam practically coming from his nostrils. Somehow, this guy scared Hoodoo more than the zombies. He guessed it was the same for the others since Spurna was quick to draw her gun.

“I’m just gonna get the key.” Longshot tiptoed around the pool to the bungalow. It was extra-large, probably a deluxe. If there was one thing he liked about the Palms, it was how they treated their employees. They got everything, even full dental from Colgate Total Insurance. Taking one last nervous look at the blood/water, the ex-quarterback slipped inside.

“I…” Swan began.

“DON’T YOU FUCKING START!” The colt advanced on her. There was an audible click as Spurna switched off the safety. Hoodoo tensed up, ready to spring at a moment’s notice. “I DON’T WANT TO HEAR ANY OF YOUR BULLSHIT APOLLOGIES, CONDOLENCES, OR PROMISES! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT I JUST DID?”

A muffled curse came from inside the hut. The sound of splintering wood tore through the air. The colt switched from an angry glare to a devastated expression. He slowly pointed to one of the corpses. A silver mare.

“My wife…” his hoof shifted to a rust colored stallion, “my dad,” he moved it one more time to a dull brown colt, “my brother. LUNA, MY OWN FUCKING BROTHER!” He broke down into fresh sobs, beating at the water weakly. There was one final crash from inside the hut. Swan moved closer to the pegasus.

“I lost my father to. Not very long ago.” The colt said nothing. Hoodoo was content to let her talk. She was a receptionist for a reason; he wasn’t even on speaking terms with his mother. “I know it hurts. It will never stop hurting. But they wouldn’t want you to…”

“Did you kill him?” he asked suddenly.

“Did. You. Kill. Him?” He got back to his hooves and took another step towards swan. “Did you put a knife in your father’s throat and watch him die? I did.” He pressed his face right up against hers. “So don’t you DARE try to compare your hurt to mine, you stupid, snake-eating, WHORSE!”

“Son of a bitch!” They heard Longshot scream from inside the bungalow. More wood broke along with the dull thumps of metal hitting flesh. Hoodoo looked at Spurna. She shook her head towards crazy-eyes and went off into the hut herself. The message was clear: Make sure he doesn’t try anything.

“I…” Swan stammered.

“SHUT UP!” The pegasus took a few steps back. Right next to the knife. “Maybe I should show you the hurt, huh? Maybe you’d like that snake-eater.” His eyes glanced to the reflective blade, then back to her. “Maybe then you’d understand.” Hoodoo swallowed. This was getting bad, fast.

“Look pony, we don’t want trouble. Just let us get something from the hut and…”

Fast as lightning, the knife appeared in the colt’s mouth. A gunshot went off inside the bungalow. He ran towards the rapper, eyes crazed with bloodlust. The red pony moved fast, but Swan was faster. She dive-tackled him into the side of the pool. The knife went flying out of his mouth and clattered to the tile a short distance away.

Not one to be left out, Hoodoo charged just as the colt cheap-shotted Swan, throwing her off him. Before the earth pony could get his hooves around the bastard’s neck he flapped, lifting himself a short distance in the air. Just enough to give Hoodoo a kick in the head.

He stumbled backwards, his eyes going cross as the kick rattled his brain. Blood (what Hoodoo decided to call him) was on him in less than a second. He stomped both hooves down on Hoodoo’s neck, choking the life out of him.

The corners of Hoodoo’s vision began to darken. He tried to lift his forelegs up to bash the fucker’s brains in, but they were battered away by his wings. He settled for beating the tile franticly, throwing red water all around them.

Swan came out of nowhere, slamming into Blood for the second time. They tumbled out of the pool in a heap, rolling and scratching each other. Hoodoo sucked in the biggest breath of air he could. He laid there panting, listening to the sounds of the fighting pegasai while he got his breath back. The sound of breaking wood drifted out of the bungalow accompanied by heavy cursing and gunshots.

After what seemed like an eternity (though it was only about twenty seconds), he rolled over to check on the fight.
Just in time to see Swan get bucked in the face.

Both were bruised, bloody, and it looked like Swan had torn some feathers out of Blood’s wing. She now had a bloodied muzzle and Blood had torn the gauze off her side.

The buck sent her flying back at least five feet to slide painfully on the tile. The colt shakily got to his feet. He snarled at the pegasus and started a slow advance. Swan looked back and joined him.

Hoodoo struggled to his feet only to flop back into the water. The colt limped towards her. The smile on his face could only be described as manic, enough rage in his eyes to scare the nose ring off a minotaur. Her cold determined stare equally matched his in intimidation. It was like one of the old Roaman epics his grandmother would tell him when he was just a little colt.

They jumped simultaneously, crashing with enough force that Hoodoo swore he heard something break.
He just prayed to Luna it was Blood’s something.

More gunshots came from inside the bungalow. There was a sharp scream. Just what the fuck was going on in there?
They needed to finish this now.

“Hey, asshole!” he croaked. The colt had thrown Swan off again. She lay face down a good ten feet from the red pony. Blood spared Hoodoo a glance. “What’s red and blue and surprised as hell?” Blood looked at him like he was stupid.
Right up until Hoodoo threw his brother at him.

“YOUR FACE!”

The corpse hit him full on and the pegasus and his dead brother ended up in a heap. Hoodoo smiled in victory. Then he started retching. Stars appeared at the edges of his vision and he fell painfully back onto the tiles. That kick must have given him a concussion.

Blood shoved off his brother’s corpse and screamed. His eyes darted back and forth between the dry heaving Hoodoo and the still form of Swan. He hated himself, but he hoped the psycho picked the mare. He could barely breathe and that taunt hadn’t done his throat any good.

“You want to fuck with me, huh?” The red pony let out a hysterical laugh. “Course you do. Everypony does! All my life. You! Them…” he swung a hoof at the splayed corpses of his family. “NO MORE! I’m tired of eating other ponies shit! ‘A family vacation’ they said. More like an excuse to ditch me at the beach while they GO FUCK!” The sounds of fighting in the hut increased, gunshots being replaced by smashing wood and dull, hollow, thumps.

Blood turned his gaze to the corpse of his brother. With a roar he started beating the body mercilessly. Blood and bone fragments flew around him haphazardly as he screamed. The tile was slowly turned from a yellow-white to a vibrant crimson. When the body was nothing but a lump of meat he stopped. Hoodoo stared with wide eyes.

“You know, I’m glad I killed them,” he said suddenly. “They deserved it. Horrible ponies, all of them.” His eyes shifted. “Just like you.”

He dove for the downed Swan. The whole thing seemed to take in slow motion. Blood flew off the leaping colt in streams. His hooves gleamed, sharp enough to slice rock. Hoodoo would later swear the stallions eyes glowed red. The scream he was emitting seemed to echo continuously off the bloody tiles…

There was a wet plopping sound along with a short drizzle. Everything stopped for a moment. There was nothing save Swan and Blood.

The latter had a knife buried in the side of his throat.

“How’s…it…feel?” he somehow asked in a quiet voice. He died standing up, the whole while staring straight into Swans eyes. His body slid off the knife, landing in a heap next to her, crimson liquid leaking onto the tile.
The knife clattered to the pavement.

“Swan?” he asked tentatively. She did nothing. Just stared at the tile. “You alright?” No response. “Swan?”

“Alright…alright. We got the key. How’d everything go…”

Hoodoo glanced at Spurna who’d appeared in the doorway. Cuts and bruises marred her form and her formerly straight mane was disheveled. It looked like a bit of it had been ripped out. She was bleeding from a fresh bite in her side.
“Oh…” She shared a look with Hoodoo. Her eyes seemed…not sad, just regretful. “What happened?”

“Crazy bastard…” he paused for a fit of coughing. He had a feeling his voice wouldn’t be back to normal for a day or two. “Crazy bastard attacked us. Kept talking shit about ‘How’s it feel?’ Sounded like he had some real issues. Swan had ta…you know.” He tried to stand but couldn’t. Spurna moved over to help him. Swan didn’t move. “Where’s Longshot?”

“Kicking a corpse,” she said dismissively. “There were a couple of the bastards in the hut. Others must of heard the fighting, so then we got ten of the fuckers tearing through the back wall. Hope Cinnamon doesn’t want this place back.”
With her help, he managed to get back to his feet, though a little unsteadily. They exchanged a look and a nod. Longshot came out the doorway, eyes blazing.

“And just where the fuck were you two?”

“Longshot…”

“Didn’t you hear them in there going off like it was the fucking solstice?”

“Hey pony, listen for a second…”

“We almost died! And you just left us for the freaks!”

“Would you just…”

“Do either of you even give a damn about…”

“SHUT UP!” All three of them jumped at Swan’s outburst. She didn’t even look at them. Just glared at the space in front of her, panting like a dog in heat. “Just…just be quiet please.”

Longshot looked from her, to the corpse, to him, back to the corpse, back to her. His mouth formed a little silent O.

“Let’s just go,” Spurna said. Longshot nodded. The two of them started walking. They spared one glance for Swan. “I’m sorry,” Spurna mumbled as she passed. Hoodoo watched them leave. With a sigh, he trotted to Swan.

“Are you…”

“Save it.” She looked at him. There was no anger in her eyes, just sadness. “Like he said: Apologies, condolences, promises, they’re all worth shit.” Her gazed moved back to the corpse. “Only thing a pony can do is try to live with it.”
“You weren’t kidding about that father thing were you?”

“No.” Her eyes closed and she took several deep breaths. “He was a good stallion. Always kind. Always honorable.” Her head turned towards him. “What was your father like?” He sighed for what must have been the thousandth time that day.

“No idea. Never met him. Way my mama talked, that might not be such a bad thing.” He put a hoof on her shoulder. “Look, you don’t have to take this alone, alright. I threw his own brother at him. I didn’t, and you never would have had time to get that knife. I killed him as much as you.”

“Yet I still thrust the knife.” She looked at it, lying there. The silver parts gleamed in the sunlight while crimson blood glittered. Reverently, she reached down and picked it up, moving it over to her bag. She put it gently inside, cradled next to a swath of bandages.

“You’re taking it?”

“I need a weapon. I’m trained with blades, so it makes sense. Besides, it’s saved my life once already. Why can’t it do so again?”

“True enough.”

“Come on!” Longshot called. He and Spurna had outdistanced them by a good five hundred feet and considering what happened the last time they split up…

“We should probably go.”

“Yeah.”

The two ponies left, leaving behind nothing but bloody water, a destroyed hut, and the bleeding remains of a pegasus.
********************

The wood on the stairs creaked with his weight. Funny how he hadn’t noticed on the way up. He wondered if they’d collapse. He knew he was big, but not that big. Still, with all the noise they’re making…

“You guys smell smoke?”

Hoodoo sniffed the air. There was in fact, the acrid scent of smoke drifting through the air. Along with…something. Sickly sweet, it made him want to vomit. Whatever it was.

They reached the bottom in silence. What was there to say? At least Longshot wasn’t panting. Turns out her only had problems going up stairs.

“Check it out.”

The smoke came black and thick from the front of the shack. A large pile of meat sat in the sand. All of the bodies that had been laid out on the beach were stacked and slowly burning. By the looks of it, they’d even cut down the hanged zombie.
Cinnamon and Tanner sat on the front porch, watching the blaze. At Longshot’s voice they turned. Cinnamon’s eyes went wide and Tanner let out a muffled curse.

“What the hell happened to you?” the lifeguard asked.

Hoodoo looked at his companions. Swan was wearing a nice shiner on both of her eyes, Longshot and Spurna were covered in bites and scratches, and he had a concussion. Plus his voice was going to be messed up for a few days.

“How long were we gone?” asked Swan.

“Twenty minutes.” Tanner said.

They were beaten, hurt, some of them probably had trauma; all to get a key that would let them get in the place they wanted. Let alone clear, fortify, and stock the place. Then they’d have to last who knows how long against an island full of dead cannibals.

Twenty minutes and it looked like they’d fought a war.

“We might have a problem.”