by Stephens, L.
“You don't know who I am?” Ryan said, turning his attention to Lynne.
“No. Should I?” Lynne asked with venom. “You kind of look like a weasel or a rat.”
Ava giggled, and Lynne caressed her face.
“I know who you are,” Ryan said with a grin. “Or who you were, fifteen to twenty pounds ago.”
“Asshole,” Lynne said as she looked out the window.
He knew. Lynne had recognized him almost instantly too. There was a time when she had flirted with the idea of doing some reality TV, and he had been a small cog in the process, but ultimately just one of many faces in a meeting room.
“I’m Lynne,” Lynne said, trying to look at Sarah in the eyes via the rearview mirror. “Thanks for driving, you’re doing great!”
“Oh, you’re back to your stage name, already?” Ryan chimed in. “What happened to Samantha?”
He was just fucking with her, letting her know he had her number. That he knew everything about her dirty little porn star secrets and could reveal them at any time. She was safe for the moment though, until her secret could be used as currency.
“I’m Ryan, I work at F.T.A.,” Ryan said, licking his lips as leaned forward to Sarah.
“That’s just great!” Sarah whined. “Just my luck to get stuck with an agent. It’s quite poetic.”
“Ha, ha, Sarah, yes, I know you too.” Ryan said in a singsong voice as he elbowed Lynne. “You might recognize our driver from various TV shows like Giselle Can’t Escape and Sunshine High.”
“Giselle?” Ava said in amazement.
“Oh brother!” Sarah said as she negotiated another turn.
Ava giggled, and Lynne kissed the top of her head.
“What’s your name, darling?” Sarah asked,
“I’m Ava, Miss Giselle,” Ava said meekly.
“Oh, that’s a beautiful name!” Sarah said brightly. “I’ll have to give you a hug once we get out of this mess.”
“Really?” Ava said excitedly.
“First, let’s see if we can find out exactly what is going on,” Sarah said. She reached over and turned the volume knob on the stereo.
A stream of Spanish language spilled from the speakers, and Sarah tried to change the channel by turning the other knob on the radio, but nothing happened. She then tried pressing the preset buttons, but all she got was more Spanish language or up-tempo Latin music.
“Same thing happened to me,” Lynne said over the chorus of a Pitbull song, which was by far the closest to English they had found.
“Take this left here!” Ryan yelled as he leaned forward again, pointing to the upcoming intersection.
Sarah ignored him and sped straight through as she kept scanning the street looking for Jake. Slowly but surely, they had made a large circle and were heading back to her home.
“Hey!” Ryan yelled from the back seat.
“Listen, you can go wherever you want. I’ll just pull over and you can get out,” Sarah said as she turned the wheel, dodging zombies and abandoned cars. “Until then, shut your weaselly little mouth and sit back!”
Ava laughed again, but Lynne quickly hugged her tight and kissed the top of her head, maternally letting her know now was not the right time to laugh.
“This is bull shit!” Ryan said, leaning back in his seat.
Something caught his eye as he glared at the kid laughing at him. It seemed like he was going to have the last laugh after all.
CHAPTER 67: SALVATION
Like Jesus gathering followers as he roamed around Galilee, the more Jake ran, the more zombies would join the chase. At every corner he told himself he would find somewhere to hide and ride it out, but at every corner there was a new congregation waiting to hear his gospel and join his fellowship. His choices were limited to giving up and becoming part of the horde or to just keep running until his legs gave out and he was eaten alive. Either way he was fucked. This heroic gesture from the anti-hero had become a matter of life and death.
“Hey there! Young man!” came a voice from up ahead. “Over here!”
Jake swiveled his head as he sought out the voice. He dodged new parishioners and old as he found the source of his salvation. He couldn’t remember the last time he saw one in real life, but there she was: a nun, dressed in full habit, standing in the open doorway of an old gothic-looking church that loomed on the next block. She held the massive wooden door open with one arm and used her other to wave him over. He didn’t believe in organized religion, but he wouldn’t call himself an atheist, and truth be told even if he did, that wouldn’t have stopped him. Jake immediately changed direction and headed for her with his army of followers hot on his heels. In his mind he had hit the jackpot, he had found sanctuary, an old church where he could ride out the apocalypse, devouring the body of Christ, not to mention and most importantly, the blood of Christ. It seemed too good to be true.
As he ran, the key to his salvation getting closer and closer, he could only think of one thing. He had left her again. But he shook it off and reminded himself of the task at hand. He knew there would be time to think of such emotional horrors as he bathed in wine while the sun shone through beautiful depictions of Jesus etched in glass.
“Hurry up! Hurry Up!” The nun urged. “You’ll be safe in here!”
As Jake sprang up the steps, he caught a glimpse of something behind the nun. There were more people inside with her and it made sense to him. Where else would you go when all hope was lost? Where else would you go when you had nowhere left? He was almost safe, and he couldn’t believe a guy like him, a guy who had less than eight hours earlier deposited two fluid ounces of semen in some random girl’s womb, was about to gain safety in a church.
† At least he didn’t use protection, just like the Lord intended. †
The arms of the nun opened wider and her own flock became more visible. Jake knew it had been too good to be true; there was someone approaching from behind her, staggering down the aisle.
“Behind you!” Jake called, pointing behind the nun.
It was too late. The nun turned straight in to a zombie who looked to be wearing a priest’s ensemble, but Jake wasn’t sure because most of it was covered in blood and gore. It seemed letting anyone who could form a sentence into the church had been their downfall. The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away. The nun for all intents and purposes was gone. She had done admirably well to hold off the zombie priest for a few seconds, but he overpowered her and bit deep into her arm.
“Help me!” the nun screamed as she tried to fend off her attacker.
That’s a shame, Jake thought, but there was nothing left to do but use her for the greater good, exactly what she would have wanted. He slowed to let the zombies behind him catch a few yards. It was only fair after all, they had proven how devout they were, and it was time for a reward. When he was close to the screaming nun, their eyes met and a glimpse of a smile showed on her face through the pain; her savior had come. The smile didn’t last long, though. Jake sidestepped her reaching hand and jumped over the bannister, falling down the ten feet to the side of the church.
“You heathen!” the nun screamed as she was engulfed under the horde of new parishioners.
The nun was all the zombies that Jake had brought with him to this hallowed ground would ever need. They quickly forgot about him as they all descended on her and into the church.
Jake caught his breath in a nook just around the corner from where the nun was being eaten alive. He was safe for the time being, safer than he would have been in the church. He still played it over in his head, but it was clear. There was no other action he could have taken. Whoever was inside was most likely infected or soon to be infected. He was just putting them out of their misery. In the immortal words of Judge Judy, “No good deed, goes unpunished.”
@KillingJake if I didn’t know before I certainly know now. This mother fucker ain’t going to heaven #NotBlessed #RIP
CHAPTER 68: FLASHBACK: REMINISCENT OF A WHALE
<
br /> A YEAR EARLIER
As he smashed his pelvis into hers, over and over again, Joy had no intense feelings of pleasure, happiness or love. All she could think was, he is really smashing it into me tonight. He didn’t have a big dick, so he never really gave her that much discomfort, other than when he tried to use his body to compensate, like he was right now. For the most part, the sex with Max had been enjoyable. She actually liked Max, not because of his money or his power, but because she knew how he operated. The sex tonight, though somewhat painful, wasn’t terrible either; just not very sensual. Joy wasn’t thinking about errands she had to do the next day; she was just looking up at him blankly, watching as his sweaty torso rammed into her.
Joy definitely enjoyed sex, but she wasn’t a super sexual creature. At this point in her life, she was more focused on work, and if she wanted to relieve the sexual tension she generally took care of it herself. The wettest Joy had ever gotten was the day she was given a seat on the board at Greytech. She had walked through the doors to the board of directors standing in a guard of honor, clapping her into the room. The path that was lined with white men in suits had led to a seat at the long table with her name engraved on a brass plate that was riveted to the back of a luxurious chair. Her rise to prominence had been unexpected, even by her, but she hadn’t sucked a dick or been bent over a filing cabinet to get there. Joy had made her way through the corporate maze of erect cocks and grubby hands trying to finger bang her without succumbing once, which was quite the feat in the male dominated and cutthroat world of military contracts. She had hustle, the good hustle, using her nous and ability to manipulate men without using sex or even the promise of the possibility of sex to get what she wanted. Even though Joy didn’t use sex as a weapon, she wasn’t naive to the fact that, even if she took a dump on the desk of a business contact, he would still see it as an offer for sex. Landing a contract with the United States Military was the most sought after ticket in the business. It was just piles of money and barely any accountability. It wasn’t easy though. Where she had succeeded, there were a long list of ex-employees that had failed miserably.
After the board’s guard of honor, she had shaken hands and posed for photos with the other directors for a good twenty minutes before she had excused herself and headed to the plush executive women’s restroom. Joy had to relieve herself. Not to piss or shit; she was wet and she could feel it and she needed to cap off this magical moment the right way. There were no other women executives, it was basically her restroom. She had broken the glass ceiling and was now fingering herself with the shards. Propped up on her porcelain throne with one foot on the seat, she had leaned back and proceeded to rub her clit vigorously, moaning loudly with triumph—there was no chiseled Greek god, high school crush or even Max Michaelson in her mind, just the glow of the brass plate that read:
JOY TANNEN, DIRECTOR
The orgasm she’d had in that marble tiled stall was the most satisfying experience she had ever felt. Her whole body shook, and for a brief moment she had panicked, flooded by thoughts of being found dead, half naked, with a giant grin on her face. The coroner would of course rule it death by orgasm, and everyone would know, but she was happy. If she died like this, it would have been worth it.
Joy was a self-made star, the cream of the crop. She never would have guessed that just four years later she would be doing everything she had promised herself she wouldn’t do, and the top of that list was fucking the C.E.O. The first time she had even met Max Michaelson in person was at the end of the board of directors’ guard of honor. He was waiting for her with an open hand and a big smile. It had been another three years before he had stuck anything inside her, and to her surprise and his, she had been the one to initiate it. Joy had become Max’s closest ally and the only one who could see the brilliance in his ideas. He had been fifty pounds lighter then and much more debonair than the whale that was crushing her now with every thrust. The presentation failure in the desert had been devastating to him, and he had let himself go considerably in the two years that followed.
So here she was, getting fucked like a piece of meat, and as Max leaned down to kiss her on the mouth she turned away at the last moment, offering up her neck like a lamb to the slaughter. As he tongued vigorously at her ear and throat, Joy could feel his full weight atop her, and she could barely breathe. She had to cut to the chase.
“On your back, tiger,” Joy whispered as she ran her fingernails lightly up the fat folds of skin that ran along his sides.
Max thrusted a few more times for good measure, and Joy thought he might just bust there and then, but when he rolled on to his back, his cock was still standing at attention, and he pulled her on top of him. She was in her element now. She upped the tempo, grinding her beaten pelvis against his, while reaching back and tapping her fingers on his balls.
“Yeah Joy, get it!” Max said as he licked his lips. “Ride that pony!”
Joy arched her back and turned her head, not in pleasure, but to hide her snigger. Ride that pony? she thought with a deep sense of shame. What had happened to the titan of industry that she had fallen for? She let out a moan and started bucking faster hoping that might hurry him along. Max grabbed her tits and she pumped even harder.
“Yeah! Fuck me, you little fuck monster!” Max said through clenched teeth. “You fucking love it, don’t you!?”
“Oh Max!” Joy said in a “Oh Max, you make me feel so good” way, but in her mind she meant it in a “Oh Max, you’re an embarrassment and I am never fucking you again” kind of way.
A few minutes later, Max was wrapped in a robe as he stood leaning against the window, looking out over the New York skyline, as Joy laid on the bed wrapped in the sheets. She was regretting the drinks that had brought her to this place. She had been lonely, and Max would forever be in her heart, but three glasses of wine and a couple mojitos later she had just fucked an orca.
“I’ve decided to move ahead with Project Phoenix,” Max said, still looking out the window.
“What are you talking about, Max?” Joy said in a frustrated tone. “It’s over. It’s been over for months now. I thought we had moved on.”
“Over for you, maybe,” Max said quietly.
“Our demonstration failed. Those assholes don’t want to save money, they want to spend it. We both know, you can’t show congress an army of monsters,” Joy said evenly, trying to side with Max. “If it’s not shiny, or moves fast or can be painted in camouflage, they aren’t going to buy it.”
“That wasn’t a demonstration, Joy. That was a show of strength,” Max said, turning to look at her. “I guess you really didn’t see what we had either.”
“I definitely didn’t see it. You went behind my back, and that’s why it failed,” Joy said in her all-business voice. “Phoenix is dead, I signed the papers, personally. We gutted the facility.”
Max laughed as he tightened the rope that kept his robe together, and Joy looked up at him and tilted her head.
“What have you done, Max?” Joy asked with concern.
“You think I’d let you kill my baby?” Max said with a smile. “I took those papers with your signatures and burned them. I have the ashes on my desk in a little box, and it’s just as cute as your tiny fucking signatures.”
“Max!” Joy said, standing up, taking the sheets with her. “When the board finds out about this.”
“Are you going to tell them?” Max said, walking closer to her.
“You’re not really giving me any choice. We were lucky the generals didn’t bring the FBI to our office and arrest us,” Joy said, standing her ground. “Christ, Max! You murdered a security guard in front of them!”
“It was a calculated risk. A risk that would have reaped rewards for you, rewards you still can get, Joy. It’s not over,” Max said, a strange upbeat note in his voice. “I’m going ahead with this, whether you like it or not.”
“I won’t let you. This will ruin us, Max,” Joy said, trying to calm the situa
tion. “Please don’t make me go to the board.”
“Don’t forget, I was the one that signed and sealed your entry into that boardroom,” Max said, starting to chuckle. “You never thanked me by the way. You thanked yourself in that executive bathroom, though, didn’t you?”
Max watched as the color drained out of Joy’s face.
“You fucking asshole. I can’t believe you would say that to me,” Joy said coldly as she threw a pointed finger in Max’s face.
Max bowed his head in shame. He had reached his moral low point.
“So, this is what you’ve become?” Joy asked as she started gathering her clothes.
“I’m sorry, Joy, I didn’t mean that,” Max said, defeated. “I can’t do this alone.”
“Maybe you won’t to have to. I’m going to let the board decide,” Joy said, fixing the last of her clothes. “I wouldn’t worry, I’m guessing it was a boys club from the very start. And they’ll be more than happy to join you in a circle jerk.”
“Joy,” Max mumbled.
“I loved you,” Joy said with one last look in the mirror. “You were my best friend, but it seems the Max I loved died in the desert with that security guard.”
“Don’t go, please,” Max whispered as Joy headed towards the door.
Joy paused and turned to look at Max.
“I never want to see you again, and I want you to know that realization hurts me. I hope you reconsider whatever you have planned, but either way, we’re done,” Joy spat and then without ceremony opened the door and left.
Max’s shoulders dropped, and he ran his hand through his thinning hair.
CHAPTER 69: DUDE
Jake cowered out of sight as he caught his breath. He had the world at his fingertips, but he knew Sarah didn’t have the same luxury, so she couldn’t get in contact with him to come pick his hobo ass up. Star crossed lovers they were not; she just didn’t have her cell phone in those tight-ass leggings. He still left her a voicemail and both Facebook and text messages, praying she wasn’t stupid enough to return to the house to go get them, because not only would the two zombies be there, dingus David would have also turned by now as well. Daryl wasn’t answering either, which was not sitting well with him. It was bad enough he was in the middle of this mess, but being the reason Daryl was now embroiled in it too was making him want to shit his pants. Daryl was unlucky without his help; he didn’t need to be further subjected to the dumb shit that constantly orbited around Jake.
