As the Sebou tribe filtered onto the challenge beach, they realized that the Dadès tribe had arrived first. They must have gotten absolutely no sleep last night, because they were looking sickly. As they neared what appeared to be the day's challenge, they noticed that there was a funny smell in the air. It smelled almost of rotting fish mixed with burning embers.

"Welcome, welcome to The 74th Annual Sausage Island Games," Host Brett said in a booming voice.

The Sebou tribe looked at each other, clearly confused. The Dadès tribe was unresponsive.

"Brett, you've watched too many movies! For the last time, this is the 8th Sausage Island, not the 74th," Lex shouted, “and you need to get it through your head that there is NO PLAYER named Katniss!”

There was a heaviness to Lex's voice, and the Sebou tribe exchanged nervous glances.

"Jeez Lex, you need to take a serious chill pill. I was trying to lighten the mood," Brett snapped, “alright guys, we have an exciting challenge prepared for you, but first we want to ask you a little bit about your camp life. How are things at camp Sebou?"

Jean Robert piped up, “well, Jeff, I mean Brett, things are pretty good, we have a great sense of morale and we really pulled together as a team after what was a discouraging tribal council."

"And you, Dadès ?" Lex asked.

J'Tia chimed in, “not so great, Jeff, I mean Lex. Ya see I dumped all the rice in the fire because I was feeling bored, and then the tribe got all upset with me because they're crazy hoes. So then I decided to make it up to them that I would supply the tribe with dinner! I brought home a rat to eat that I found dead near the camp, but before anyone could have any of it Crystal done gone went and ate it all up, that ho. The rest of us caught her JUST in time to get a few bites in but none of us had as much as we would've liked."

Crystal was absent from the rest of the tribe. Yul and Ken exchanged a smirk, without Crystal around, the tribes were evened out and neither tribe was outnumbered by the other. The smirks faded quickly as the odor changed from rotting fish to a stronger and closer stench of rotting flesh. Becky's expression screamed disgust.

"I notice she isn't with you?" asked Brett.

"Yeah well after she ate all of our food she started to feel really sick. So we figured that she should probably sleep it off,” offered Debbie, as perky as ever, “we're confident that when we get back to camp, her skin will be back to normal and will no longer be that peculiar shade of green."

Betsy nudged Bill and pointed at Charlie. She couldn't pinpoint what was off about him, but her cop instincts were telling her that something was not right with this situation. It looked like he hadn't slept for weeks. The rest of the tribe didn't look much better.

"Alright folks, well time to outline today's challenge," Lex shouted, and started walked towards the bushes from which a large wall was protruding, “today's immunity is a doozie. You are going to start by navigating through a vertical obstacle course that will take you into the island. You are each going to climb up..."

In a flash, about a million things happened at once. Crystal emerged from the bushes. Or at least, what looked like Crystal except that her skin was lime green and one of her eyes had fallen out of its socket.

"Eat yo’ rice... I mean eat yo' brains..." she said, then took a big bite out of Lex's shoulder.

As Lex let out a bloodcurdling scream, Charlie started to convulse on the ground. Brett ran down to help him, but Charlie pulled him in and bit him right in the face.

The Sebou tribe looked in horror as the Dadès tribe fell to the ground.

"RUN!" Marisa screamed, as they ran for the tree-line.

As she shouted out, Marisa's heel caught on a weed, and she watched in horror as a bunch of shambling Dadès encircled her. Her final words rang in the ears of all of Sebou , “RUN ALL THE WAY TO CAMP!!!"

This is amazing. I'm on a short break at work. I was gonna write some for my part but it seems like you guys have it done. Hopefully we'll win!

“RUN ALL THE WAY TO CAMP!!!”

That was the last thing Jean-Robert was able to process before his thoughts became jumbled with images, sounds, and emotions. All he could think was ‘left, right, dodge, left, right,' as he ran through the thick Moroccan forest.

'What did I just witness?’

'Is this the challenge?’

'My god, I need to lose some weight.’

If there was one thing that JR was certain of, it was that he was not made for running, he was made for the poker table. He believed that stamina was the ability to sit in a chair for fourteen hours straight and according to that definition JR had a lot of it. However, about a half mile into the race back to camp, JR realized stamina was about the last thing he had.

Knowing he was the caboose of the tribe, JR counted the bodies he saw ahead of him, ‘one, two, three, four, five, six... six?’

He panicked realizing that this couldn’t be right. Some people had fallen behind, but he had to go on.

JR yelled to his tribe in front, “WE LOST PEOPLE! People are missing! Guys, I’m…”

Out of breath he slowed to a jog and eventually to a power walk.

“Ugh, do I feel like a middle aged woman right now or what,” he mumbled to himself as he power walked the rest of his way to camp.

The one thing that he was grateful for right now was the fact that the zombies were slow. Otherwise, JR would have been dead.

***

Purple Kelly bore a striking resemblance to a young Ruth Marie Milliman as she sped down the beach and away from what she was pretty sure were flesh-eating zombies. This confused her though; just last month, her English professor had explained to her very authoritatively that the living dead were a construction of science fiction, and that The Walking Dead on AMC was not based on a true story.

And the English Department wanted to stay accredited? With quack instructors like that, good luck!

Annoyance at her education’s quality aside, Kelly knew that she had more pressing things to worry about at the moment, like not becoming lunch for the tribe formerly known as Dadès . She had to reach safety and she had to reach it fast.

Marisa had yelled out for everyone to head for cover back at the tribe’s campsite, but Kelly didn’t like that idea at all. Sebou was situated relatively out in the open and was therefore lacking in good places to hide. Thinking fast (never her strong suit) she’d decided that perhaps the opposite direction would prove more fruitful in the search for safe havens.

However, after fifteen minutes of full speed running she’d had no such luck. She couldn’t see the monsters behind her, but she could hear them and she could smell them. Frantic, Kelly eyed a cloud of billowing smoke from deep within the adjacent jungle. Hopeful and relieved, she darted off the beach and in the direction of whatever might be causing it.

***

The cave was dark and eerie. Water dripped from the ceiling and a body lay on the floor, unconscious and clothes disheveled. The short Asian girl stirred and her eyes fluttered once, twice, and then a third time. Her body weight shifted and a groan escaped her mouth as she awoke.

“What the…” Becky muttered, rubbing the large bruise on the back of her head, "where am I?”

Becky managed to stand up and stretch. She noticed her surrounding and, confused, began to wander towards the light from outside.

‘The last thing I can remember was Marisa telling us to run, but that was the challenge, right?’

Becky thought as she continued walking. Just outside the entrance of the cave cave, a coconut tree shaded the path and Becky kicked it in frustration.

Not two, not three, but four coconuts fell from above and hit Becky.

“This day can’t get any worse,” Becky groaned as she picked up one of the coconuts. The husk had broken and she slowly tipped it towards her mouth, tasting the sweet, white milk.

As Becky was quenching her thirst and sitting under the shade of the coconut tree, the bushes rattled.

Her senses heightened and Becky called out, “hello? Is anyone there? I got lost after the challenge.”

There was no reply and she began to wonder why production hadn't stopped her from getting lost.

‘And where is camp from here, anyway? I’m sure my tribe is missing me right now.’

The bushes rattled once again, and Becky rose from the ground.

“Seriously, who is it? Guys… it’s not funny!” Becky screamed.

From the bushes emerged a familiar figure – Abi Maria.

“Oh thank God, it’s you! I was scared, I was all alone Abi, "Becky said, relieved it wasn’t a wild animal, “how are you?

Abi-Maria didn’t respond.

“Damn girl, you look tired,” Becky sat down and continued sipping on her coconut.

Abi-Maria slowly limped over to Becky, who was nonchalantly looking off in the distance.

“Oh did you want a coconut,” Becky offered, and turned to look, “...Abi?”

Abi was now inches from her face, mouth agape and showing rotten, yellow teeth.

“NO COCONUT,” Abi-Maria groaned as she lashed out at the girl, “BECKY FOR LUNCH.

Becky’s short stature was just enough to allow her to duck under Abi-Maria’s legs and make her way back into the cave.

“Get away from me, you…you…thing,” Becky cried as she continued to run.

Abi-Maria followed her, picking up speed until Becky reached the far back of the cave.

‘Shit! Maybe this wasn’t the best place to run,’ she thought.

She turned around to face the zombie from Dadès closing in on her. The back of the cave was in tight quarters, and Becky had nowhere to run. She almost started to cry as she realized what was happening.

Abi-Maria was just a few feet away from her when Becky had a brilliant idea. She threw the coconut and hit Abi-Maria square in the forehead. There was a thud as Abi-Maria’s head slammed against the ground.

'Oh my God… what is going on?’

'How is the rest of camp?’

'Where to go now?’

Thousands of questions flew through Becky’s mind as she composed herself and made her way out of the cave.

Just as she stepped over the seemingly unconscious Abi-Maria, Becky felt something grab her leg. Claws pushed through the skin of her calve and blood began to trickle while she fell to the ground. Becky turned her head around just in time to see the loud-mouthed Abi-Maria begin
feasting on her right leg.

All was grim.

The Dadès tribe had become zombies long ago.

Lex, Brett, and the entire Sebou tribe had been infected.

Soon, all of Morocco would be infected, followed by all of Africa, and the world.

“Russell…..Russell, wake up!”

Shaking awake, Russell Hantz opened his eyes to see his old tribemate Katie looking down on him.

“Oh, you…. welcome to Ponderosa, bitch!”

Shoving her away, Russell headed for the fridge. Life sucked since he got voted out of Sausage Island, and he hated everybody left on the island. That dream was a gift from above, and the tiny midget of a man would never forgot it.

What remained of the Sebou tribe was sitting around camp. No one was sure quite what to do. Everyone was in a state of mass panic, and all of them were hungry.

"We need to eat," said Yul in a clearheaded tone, “we can't fight if we're weak".

"I agree," said Betsy, in a motherly tone, “how are we gonna fight if we can't stand?"

There was a brief moment of harmony among the Sebou tribe. For minutes, the tribe was able to put the horrors that they had just experienced completely behind them. Bill agreed to start a fire and prepare some rice. Moments after the water started to boil however, the harmony came to an end. There was a shuffling sound that came from the bushes, and out stumbled a few members of Dadès , post mortem. The remnants of the Sebou tribe panicked.

***

“What have I gotten myself into,” Betsy griped aloud as she trotted down the beach.

Realizing that she was in the clear for a moment, she perched onto a rock overlooking the ocean, trying to recount the events that had just occurred. Her heart pounded furiously.

“I should’ve listened when they told me I was getting too old for this,” she grumbled, “I should’ve known when I was one of the oldest out here that this was going to be a bad idea!”

She tried to recall everything that had been said, but for the life of her she could not remember all of the details. There had been young, attractive bodies running down the beach in all directions. But before that she vaguely remembered a distinct odor of flesh and fish. Someone had been talking about hos and bite marks. Someone else had been bragging about their eighth sausage. She could barely visualize something emerging from the surrounding bush. All of those details together brought back more memories from her college Spring break days than the incident that had just taken place back on the beach.

“Why didn’t we all stick together,” she cried, as she felt herself beginning to panic a little bit.

Recognizing that she was starting to lose composure, Betsy reverted back to all of the skills she had been taught in training as she was pursuing her dreams of becoming a police officer back home. While she had always loved her job as a cop, she had long dreamed of becoming an undercover special agent.

“That’s it,” she exclaimed, “I’ll try to go undercover and disguise myself long enough so that I have a chance to get back to camp and catch up with the others!”

As she pondered what disguise she would choose, Betsy was reminded of a costume party she once attended.

She had won the prestigious title of ‘Best Costume’ as she donned her very own homemade pirate suit. Recognizing that she had all of the materials readily available from the clothes she was wearing, she worked quickly to recreate her award-winning get-up right there on the beach.

As she hobbled around on her wooden leg created from tree branches and sported her eye patch (designed from the leather on her shoes,) Betsy embarked on her long trek back toward camp. The closer she got however, the more deafening were the shrieks and screams. The stench also became more unbearable.

Realizing that her pirate persona would not be enough to shield her from a mob of bloodthirsty zombies, Betsy decided it was time to step up her game. She snatched twigs and branches from nearby bushes and covered herself, camouflaging in with the rest of the Moroccan wilderness…

***

Bill Posley was never that good at running, hiding, or fighting, so this night was basically hell for him.

Somehow things had gone from a peaceful challenge to running away from a pack of flesh-eating zombies, and of course, Bill had been left with the least effective of weapons: some bananas he’d just finished eating BEFORE he was going to gograb some weapons. There had simply been no time before Bill had to take off for safety.

Bill couldn’t hold on much longer, he was running out of breath and needed a break. That was when he saw it…..a cave! It didn’t look too big, a hole in some rocks by a creek, but it was all that the struggling comic needed.

Using his last bit of energy he had in him, Bill bolted for the creek cave.

Upon arriving, he dropped to his knees in exhaustion, only to see smoke flowing out from the very back of the cave.

'What was that smell?’

IT WAS RICE! Actual food! Bill raced to his feet and headed toward the feint light.

“Guys... are you there,” Bill called, “don’t be scared guys, it’s me!”

No response. Slowly, Bill’s heart rate began to rise. Not good. Bill wasn’t the healthiest of people, having been scarfing down skittles, powdered donuts, and steaks before taking the plane out to Morocco. As he neared the fire, he realized it might be the last good meal he would ever eat.

Upon reaching the fire however, Bill realized that nobody was there.

'Were they eaten alive?’

'Killed then eaten?’

'Eaten then killed?’

'Bathroom break?'

Bill was hoping that his last thought was true, but he just wasn’t sure. The air of the cave just didn’t seem right. That’s when it happened.

“BAAAH!”

From behind the shadows, a grotesque figure came right at Bill. He managed to move out of the way just in time, barely escaping sudden death.

'Where were those reflexes during dodgeball in high school gym,' he thought, but there wasn’t any more time to think about his sudden new arrival of skills.

Bill couldn’t make out who the zombie was, so like an idiot, as he neared his demise he started talking to it.

“Who…..who are you?”

The zombie slowly creaked open its bleeding mouth and roared, "HIDE J’KIDS…..HIDE J’RICE, HIDE J’BRAINS!!!”

“Oh….hi J’Tia,” Bill exclaimed.

In an attempt to distract the zombie, Bill chucked his two banana peels at the zombie’s face, and took off. Sadly, the diversion was short-lived. Just outside the cave, Bill slipped on a wet spot and fell too his back. THUD! Pain ran through the castaway’s body.

“I thought this running thing was gonna slim me down, not break me up,” he muttered.

Even in peril, Bill felt that there was always time for cheesy one liners. Little did he know, his time was up.

Slowly rising from the rocks, Bill felt the warm, foul-smelling breath at his shoulders.

“HIDE… J’BRAINS!!!”

There was a chomp straight through his beautiful, afro-like hair and into his skull. Slowly, Bill’s whole world faded to black. Bill Posley was no more, fittingly, the black guy always dies early.

***

“This is it,” she decided, “here’s my chance. I’m going to have to make a run for it.”

With her camp in sight, Betsy sprinted toward where she assumed that the rest of her tribe was waiting for her. She realized she probably didn’t look nearly as athletic as she felt while racing through the wooded terrain.

'With this speed,’ she thought, 'I could probably play for the World Cup Soccer Team!”

Yet before Betsy could successfully outrun her opponents and reach her goal, a pack of savage zombies emerged from the jungle and chomped down right on her shoulder, Luis Suarez style.

~*~Chapter 2~*~

What remained of the Sebou tribe was sitting around camp. "ROLL CALL" Ken called out. NaOnka, Marisa, Bill, Betsy, and Yul responded. JR stumbled his way into camp just in time to check in. No one was sure what to do. Everyone was in a state of mass panic, and all of them were hungry.


"We need to eat" said Yul in a clearheaded tone. "We can't fight if we're weak".

"I agree" said Betsy, putting her hand on Marisa's shoulder. "How are we gonna fight if we can't stand".

There was a brief moment of harmony among the Sebou tribe. For minutes, the tribe was able to put the horrors that they had just experienced completely behind them. Bill agreed to start a fire and prepare some rice.

NaOnka faced the tribe, "If we are going to fight these nasty zombies... we are gunna need some weapons!We might have to be creative." Ken clapped his hands in excitement, "YES!" he shouted as he quickly ran around grabbing things he thought would be useful.

Moments after the tribe thought they had devised a plan, the harmony came to an end. There was a shuffling sound that came from the bushes, and out stumbled a few members of Dades, post mortem. The entire Sebou tribe panicked.


“Not AGAIN” JR agonized as his tribe sprinted from the camp grounds into the forest. This time, he stayed put. JR knew he wouldn’t be able to run more than half a mile before collapsing helpless on the dirt. If he stayed at camp he would at least have energy to fight. He laid on the shelter watching his tribe disappear into every direction imaginable.

JR shuffled around in his bag until he found his lucky deck of cards and poker chip. He chose these as his luxury items and he knew this was just what he needed in order to outplay, outwit, and outlast this tribe of zombies. JR quickly shuffled through the cards looking for the last five cards of the hearts suit. He had an ace, king, queen, jack, and a ten in his hand… “Aha! A royal flush. These zombies can’t beat me now… not with this golden hand.” He laid back down on the hard bamboo and fell asleep just moments later with a smirk on his face.

“ARRGHHHAAARHH” grumbled Dan from Dadès as he approached the Sebou camp grounds. Dan shuffled around the camp sniffing about for human brains. He could smell there was someone there and now it was just a matter of finding them. JR quickly rose from the shelter and grabbed his poker chip. He had tucked the royal flush into his short pocket to save it for a surprise attack. JR examined Dan as he walked closer. His brain was showing through his skull, he had scratch marks all up his arms, and most importantly he wore his leather shoes to complete the look. He was pretty stylish for a zombie. JR got to his feet and into ready position. With an anger in his eyes, JR was ready to fight.


“Dan the man… I am over here!” JR shouted in an attempt to lure Dan to him faster. JR was confident in his ability to fool people. He had mastered this skill at the poker table and so he believed he would definitely be able to dupe Dan, the zombie with half his brain falling out of his head. As Dan shuffled his way to the shelter, JR grabbed the poker chip in his hand ready to fling it at Dan’s weak knee. Just as JR raised his hand to throw, Dan untied his leather shoe and flung it at JR’s head. “WHAT THE?!” JR screamed as the shoe hit his elbow. The force had flung him backwards and he was now lying on the ground with his feet upwards hanging off the shelter. “Where is my poker chip?” JR freaked. He had dropped the poker chip when he fell backwards and he saw it lying right in front of Dan’s bare foot.

Before JR could get himself upright, Dan was lingering above his head. He had death in his eyes, the poker chip in his hand, and his brain fluid dripping onto JR’s face. “I believe ARGHHGG this is YOURS! AHHGAA” Dan rumbled as his arm swung back into a pitching motion and he hurled the poker chip stabbing JR right in his heart. Determined not to go out like this, JR slowly took out the cards from his pocket. “This is my last hope” he thought to himself as he turned the cards over so Dan could see his royal flush. No one could ever beat a royal flush… no one can have a better hand than that.

Dan looked confused at the cards, “Why are these HEARTS… I want BRAINS. YOUR BRAINS!” Dan grabbed the cards from JR’s hand and ripped every single one to pieces except the ace of hearts. With tears in his face JR started to feel himself bleed out. He failed to realize this was the zombie apocalypse, not a poker game that could be won with cards. As he looked up at Dan for the last time, he saw the ace of hearts piercing its way through the air and then impaling him in the skull. His cards had failed him, his lucky poker chip was the reason he was slowly bleeding to death, and he was about to get his brains eaten by Dan. “Life is grand” JR whispered.

Chapter 3 edit!

Kelly Shinn couldn't seem to catch a break. At the moment she was fleeing through the uncharted Moroccan jungle in an attempt to escape a hoard of flesh-hungry zombies. And without a clear path to follow, her progress was slow. This wasn’t made any easier either, given that her normally tan legs were covered in red blotches and felt like they were on fire.

“Ah,” she groaned, keeling over to scratch her itchy calves and thighs, “so not cute!”

The more she scratched the more she seemed to itch. Forcing herself forward she hobbled onward in the direction of the smoke cloud she’d eyed earlier while on the beach.

She had to be at least a kilometer into the forest by now, she thought. Just then she saw it. Her mouth dropped in awe as she saw the source of the smoke ahead.
***


A five star resort… Hotel Dadès it said on the front of it. The producers had put the other tribe up in luxury suites? No wonder they’d been demolishing Sebou in the challenges. Captain Purple Kelly was suddenly very pissed.

Whatever though, anger aside at how unfair this was, here was the refuge that she’d been seeking. The smoke she’d eyed before flowed invitingly out of a tall brick chimney, no doubt a cozy fire and lounge was waiting for her just inside. She was going to be okay!

Walking towards the automatic sliding door Kelly felt overjoyed! Her happiness however was short lived as she felt herself smack roughly into the thick glass frame. What the hell?

“Open,” cried Kelly pounding, “open sesame!”

“They’re back,” squealed a voice from just beyond the glass, which had been fortified and boarded up with wooden planks.

“Don’t worry,” shouted another voice, “the building is completely secure. There’s no way any of those things are getting inside.”

“Let me in,” cried Kelly, eying the walking corpses that were now emerging from the forest and towards their prey.

“Go away,” yelled the second voice, “we can’t help you!”

Was that Mark Burnett? What the hell!

Kelly wailed, “ please Mr. Burnett, let me inside they’re almost here!”

“Purple Kelly we’re sorry,” lamented the other voice, "run while you still can!"

It was that bitch Lynne Spillman!

"Screw you both," screamed Kelly, tears streaming down her face.

She pounded again, hopeful for a change of heart. After several moments of no more response though, Purps kicked the door in frustration and then scurried as fast as her itchy legs would take her around the side of the resort. Spotting a dumpster she frantically jumped inside and prayed that the things pursuing her wouldn’t find her there.


Ken looked out into the distance, and saw endless blue. His heart sank into his chest. He had been hoping that maybe, just maybe, he might gaze into the distance and see a ship headed in his direction. Or perhaps he would hear the engine of an incoming plane. But there was nothing. Nothing but a cloudless sky and an expansive crystal clear ocean. There was nothing but him alone on an island infested with zombies that were at one point friends. Nothing but the silent cackles of whatever God had turned his back on him. He chuckled to himself. This must be it. This must be the day I die.

Ken had gotten split off from the rest of the group back when Dadès invaded the Sebou camp. They all grabbed their weapons and prepared to fight. He tried not to cry while running from the camp and he tried to drown out the screams of his former friends, but he had failed. Something had told him that if he could just find his way off the island that he would be able to send for help. But he was wrong. They were alone and no one was going to bail them out.

It was almost as if there was an element of dark humor at play here; like Sebou was the victim of some cruel joke. The game of Survivor had become all to real. Instead of competing for a million dollars, contestants were competing for their lives. But this version of the game felt rigged. Would there even BE a sole Survivor?

The time for self reflection was over, Ken needed to figure out his next move. He was unarmed and unprepared and it was time to take his situation into his own hands. But all the police training in the world was not going to help him through this. Police work was done through procedures and teamwork, and right now he was alone and facing an unprecedented threat. Ken thought back to some of the hard times in his life to draw inspiration - the time when his dreams were crushed by that soulless used car salesmen felt like a distant memory. And the closest he had ever been to real police work was when he was investigating who took the last Boston Cream doughnut the day before he left for Sausage Island.

He felt helpless. He felt alone. He knew that even with all his life experience, Ken Stafford was simply not prepared to deal with this situation. And then it hit him. There's one person who WOULD know what to do... Kendra Bigstaff!