SHANE

This country is balls-deep in zombies. I would even go as far as to say, it's nipples deep in zombies. Chichis deep, my friends.

I was sent over a few days ago by the Prime Minister to infiltrate and gather information about presidential ex-candidate Dean Kennedy so we could aid the so-called good guys. Spain wants the good guys to come out on top.

When my plane got to the airport, we were all rushed out, because the zombies were in the place, tearing the tourists to little shreds. I ran in, because I had no time to grab my weapons off the plane, and luckily ran into a zombiefied baseball team. God bless their souls, since he won't be able to bless their next game. I was able to take a steel bat from one and a wooden bat from another.

Thankfully, there were a few charged airport shuttles and I took one and ran over and through the remaining zombies and out the doors. I parked the shuttle outside the doors to keep the horde in.

I had to retrieve my guns from the plane. When I checked my bag, all of my weapons and forms of legal identification had been jacked. Every Americano punk for himself then, I guess. The bats were all I had now, but when I was going to law school, I was part of a metalcore band - their drummer, so having a new two extensions for my arms wasn't so bad. I had the upper hand in any potential close range combat.

I had to find my way out of the airport now, and out into the city where that glass dome was looming on the horizon.

SHANE

Americans need to learn to drive on the right side of the road, AND the right side of the vehicle, literally. Everybody here, trying to escape, is clogging up the wrong side of the road.

Not gonna lie, though, it took me a while to get the idea to hotwire a car on the other side of the island to get out faster. But for real, how come you Americanos can't do that yourself?! You all are going to be eaten. It's your fault you're all stuck in the past with your Fahrenheit and your stone-age measurement system. Soon you'll all be stuck in the unrelenting jaws of spore zombies.

I really hope Princess Kennedy has a bar set up in her glass dome. I could seriously go for a Dos Equis. Americans do everything wrong, including beer, so they better have some imports.

And they better not have sent all their best men out here to die. I've already seen enough dead bodies. I probably have PTSD. Thanks, America. Gracias por your stupidity. I haven't turned a corner without seeing glowing blue fungus snacking on la policia or firemen. I guess though, the more corners I turn, the closer I get to the dome. The carnage builds the closer I get. I am sure many of these people simply wanted to get into the camp, but were stopped right before they reached the entrance.

A group of dangerous pink female spore hosts was gathered at the dome entrance right as I arrived.

SHANE

The lower half of the dome was a mound of half-buried mattresses built up around both sides of the glass, probably to create an artificial trench in which to bury the glass for extra protection. Some of the springs and pillowtop cotton were poking up from the dirt mounds which held the glass in place. The pink zombies were chewing on the cotton, probably because it smelled of humans, a.k.a. dinner.

I had heard it from Spanish intel that the pink ones were much worse than the blue ones, and that they had the more potent spores. They were female, and generally larger. The female spores took over the host much faster than the males, and the hosts before me had the majority of their skin rotted away. What was left of their eyes had sunken in to their skulls, turned dark and their pupils glowed with that bio-luminescent pink light. Large pink mushrooms protruded from their backs, puffing out more spores. Mold covered what was left of their clothes.

To their immediate left was a crease in the dome going up four feet, insulated with what looked like rubber. I looked for a guard to let me in, or even a camera to pick me up, but I didn't see nada.

I figured if I was quick enough, I could locate a code box to punch a number into somewhere on the glass, and slip inside to safety. I stuck my bats through my belt loops on either side and crept as silently as I could towards the entrance.

As my luck would have it, I stepped on a human femur bone that had been stripped of flesh, and it snapped in half. All ten of the pink zombies turned to attack me.