Free Romance: Welcome to Zombie Island: A Tale of Zombie Romance and Survival (Post-Apocalyptic, Zombie, Spirit, Survival) by Natalie Nixon

CHAPTER ONE
     
    Club SINZ was celebrating its grand opening, and had pulled out all the stops to make their first night in business a memorable one. The place was packed with everyone from porn stars to rich losers to travel writers, all desperate to be part of the Caribbean's newest adult getaway. Club SINZ's advertising promised to make the Hedonism resorts look like a church picnic. Among the guests was a contingent of Estonian tourists, who not coincidentally, just happened to be beautiful, open-minded, and available women. The owners had clearly "stocked the pond" with professionals to ensure their initial guests left with fond memories - and maybe a few painful urinary tract infections as well.
    Cass Bauer, the main bartender was more interested in the clock than the crowd. She had important plans tonight that didn't involve Club SINZ . The last month of opening preparations had been chaotic, forcing her to work endless hours. Being an army veteran she had leadership skills, which had inspired management to entrust her with more responsibilities than the usual mixologist. She'd practically built the main bar as well as helped with everything from overall renovations to the hiring of local staff. SINZ was the first American business to open on Isla de Tortura , so the Caribbean locals eagerly lined up for the relatively high paying jobs. Two dollars and twenty-seven cents an hour represented big money on Tortura.
    Designed like a wagon wheel, Club SINZ had a central pool, surrounded by small cabanas. Tucked behind those were the VIP cabanas, which of course came with private Jacuzzis. The largest building held the dining hall, indoor bar and the industrial sized kitchen facilities. There was a band pavilion and even a miniature golf course. The abundance of outdoor bars guaranteed liquor would always be within staggering distance.
    Cass worked the main patio bar. She also taught windsurfing and kickboxing on the beach, but since the clientele lived on a diet of alcohol, frozen shrimp and pharmaceuticals, the turnout for physical fitness had been… underwhelming. But her time at the beach hadn't been a waste, because that was where she had met Talin, who was, of all things, the island's Voodoo Priest. At first she had been understandably wary of him. Talin had to be the most eccentric person she'd ever met, and that was saying something. You might wonder what an ex-military bartender had in common with an islands-raised witch doctor, and you would be surprised. Chemistry can go a long way. Over the course of a few weeks she'd happily become his lover as well as his pupil, of all things. If her current infatuation held, she planned to stay on the island with Talin for the rest of her life. It was a big change of plans, but she was impulsive like that. She’d been getting by like that for years and it always seemed to work out, so she wasn’t worried about it. She was actually pretty excited about the future.
    Initially Cass planned to kill a few months on Isla de Tortura , and then drift on to the next spot that held her interest. Keep moving and don't tie yourself down had become her mantra since leaving the military. Her first months in the civilian world had been dicey though. Without the boundaries of military life her behavior had gotten reckless and out of control. The endless parade of anonymous sexual encounters and all night drinking binges had gotten more and more extreme as time went on. None of it so much as put a dent in the pain that enveloped her though. She had actually been trying in vain to envelop herself in a nice cushion of emotional numbness, but to no avail. Eventually she had had to acknowledge that Post Traumatic Stress Disorder was really “a thing”, that she had it, and that it wasn't going away on its own. Once she had acknowledged and begun to face it, she'd come a long way in just a few months. Her drinking was almost nonexistent; she'd stopped banging nameless losers and, most