Flesh: Solomon Islands

Lani's Bridge

The sun was setting over the hills, casting a red glow over the ruined city of Honiara. Anna, David, John, Mary and Peter were hiding in an abandoned supermarket, scavenging for food and supplies. They had been on the run for months, ever since the zombie outbreak had swept across the Solomon Islands, turning most of the population into mindless, flesh-eating monsters.

They had lost many friends and family along the way, and they knew they were lucky to be alive. But they also knew they couldn't stay here for long. The zombies were everywhere, and they could smell their blood. They had to find a way out of this hell.

They had heard rumors of a safe haven somewhere in the mountains, where a group of survivors had managed to build a fortress and fend off the zombies. They had also heard that the survivors spoke a different language, a variant of Central Solomon languages, that was hard to understand. But they didn't care. They just wanted to be safe.

They decided to leave the supermarket at dawn, when the zombies were less active. They packed their backpacks with whatever they could find, and armed themselves with knives, machetes, and a few guns they had scavenged from the police station. They knew they had to be careful, and avoid any unnecessary noise.

They left the supermarket through a back door, and made their way to the main road. They saw a few zombies wandering around, but they managed to avoid them. They followed the road north, hoping to find a sign that would point them to the mountains.

They walked for hours, until they reached a bridge that crossed a river. They saw a sign that said "Welcome to Malaita Province". They knew they were getting closer to their destination. They crossed the bridge, and continued their journey.

They soon reached a small village, surrounded by a wooden fence. They saw a few people working in the fields, growing crops and raising animals. They also saw a few guards, armed with bows and arrows, watching the entrance. They looked like normal people, not zombies.

They approached the village, hoping to find some help. They waved their hands, and shouted "Hello! We are survivors from Honiara! We need your help!"

The villagers looked at them with curiosity and suspicion. They didn't recognize them, and they didn't understand their language. They spoke to each other in a dialect of Central Solomon languages, that sounded like gibberish to the Honiara survivors.

One of the guards stepped forward, and pointed his bow at them. He said something in his language, that sounded like a warning. He gestured for them to leave, or he would shoot.

The Honiara survivors were confused and scared. They didn't know what to do. They tried to explain their situation, but the villagers didn't listen. They thought they were intruders, or worse, zombies in disguise.

The guard was about to shoot, when a voice stopped him. It was a young woman, who came out of one of the huts. She had long black hair, and brown eyes. She looked at the Honiara survivors, and recognized their language. She spoke to them in English, with a heavy accent.

"Who are you? Where are you from? What do you want?" she asked.

The Honiara survivors were relieved to hear someone who could speak their language. They introduced themselves, and told her their story. They told her about the zombie outbreak, and their search for a safe haven. They told her they meant no harm, and they only wanted to join the survivors in the mountains.

The young woman listened to them, and nodded. She turned to the guard, and spoke to him in their language. She explained who they were, and what they wanted. She convinced him to lower his bow, and let them in.

She then turned to the Honiara survivors, and smiled. She said "My name is Lani. I am from Malaita, but I learned English at school. I can help you. Come with me. I will take you to the survivors in the mountains. They are my people. They speak my language. They will welcome you."

She led them into the village, and gave them some food and water. She told them to rest for a while, and then they would continue their journey. She said they had to cross another river, and then climb a steep hill. She said it would take them a few hours, but they would make it.

The Honiara survivors thanked her, and followed her. They felt a glimmer of hope, and a sense of gratitude. They had found a friend, and a guide. They had found a way out of this hell.