Still Alive;
A Lesbian Love Story in an Undead World
By Leigh Ann Scott
These series of novels are
dedicated to Tami, my one
true love and inspiration.
© L. Michele Scott/Leigh Ann Scott
Cover Art by J Ash B Designs
Published by Leigh Ann Scott
[email protected]
https://lmichelescott.wordpress.com/
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, and incidents are fictitious and are not to be construed as real in any way. Any resemblance to people, living or dead, actual events, or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Still Alive; A Lesbian Love Story in an Undead World is in serial format. Each part can be purchased individually as they become available for sale.
Chapter One
It came at her, shuffling and swinging a rotting arm, trying desperately to clutch her shoulder. Jagged nails tore at the sleeve of her shirt as she twisted her body, slapping a dented softball bat at the monster’s head. Her arm shuddered in pain as the bat met the attacker’s head and caved it in, splattering gore everywhere. She kept swinging until it stopped scrabbling toward her along the ground. The thing had the one-minded goal of devouring her flesh.
“Zombies.” she muttered running a hand through sweaty hair. “What the hell happened to the world…to my life?” Wiping the bat on the corpse that should now be dead for good, she walked away, glancing right and left, progressing deeper into the building. Her boots left behind bloody footprints as she disappeared into the gloom.
*****
One Month Ago
Jaimee crumpled paper for the third time and tossed an unfinished sketch into the growing pile of debris in the corner of the apartment. The morning sun glared harshly through a window, illuminating the blank sketchpad. She did not understand why she was trying to draw her on again/off again girlfriend after last night. Was it remorse for spending the night with her after weeks of being single? Into the third week after their last ‘breakup’, she started to pull herself together and sketch again at the park for tourists, families and lovers; making enough money to pay the rent and bills. During some evenings, she met with her band to practice and write songs in hopes of someday finding a paying gig. Of course, that may be a bit difficult given that they failed to agree on a name to call themselves. The band was good enough to do some cover gigs at local bars after they managed to name themselves. But, Jaimee felt like she was wasting her talent playing unoriginal material. It was not fame she was after, but recognition and a means of support while creating art. She felt as if she had plenty of time. After all, she was only in her mid-twenties.
Last night was fantastic...until she found the note this morning left by the ex. Wincing, she remembered walking into the club to have a few drinks with friends and have a good time. A light drinker, it did not take much alcohol to affect her head and set it buzzing. Two drinks in, her body hummed and danced with friends and random, good-looking women.
The club was a mainstay for lesbians in the city, not too small and large enough to accommodate the locals as well as fresh visitors wanting to check out the local scene. Of course, the club was not exclusively female. Like most gay bars and clubs around town, it catered to both men and women.
Bright lights and neon flashed. After turning down a few who asked her to dance, Jaimee approached a curvy, redhead. “Hi. Do you wanna dance?”
Jaimee almost used a cheesy pick up line from a popular mobile app people were playing, but decided against it, just in case the beauty was not familiar with the game.
The woman smiled in response and nodded. Taking Jaimee’s arm, she followed her to the dance floor.
The music throbbed in time with alternating colored lights - too loud to carry on a conversation. Jaimee did not feel like a long, ‘getting-to-know-you’, talk this night. She was hungry, ravenous in fact, missing the intimate touch of another woman and wanted that blissful pleasure tonight.
If they both ended up liking each other after a night of sex and passion, even better. She thought.
Jaimee pressed her lanky body against the other woman and asked, “Thanks for dancing with me. What’s your name?” She enjoyed the feel of the red head’s body grinding softly against her torso to the beat of the music while waiting for a response.
“Cathy.” She smiled and gazed into Jaimee’s green eyes.
The club was warm and stuffy – so stifling that it seemed an outrage to keep clothing on. Jaimee could not wait to escape the building with another person in her arms. Her apartment sat three long blocks away, just enough time for a short conversation and quick invitation to ‘come up to her place for a night cap’. She studied Cathy’s gaze, letting her eyes cover the tip of her nose, gliding down to her full lips, sharp jawline and exposed neck. Drops of sweat began to bead along her collarbone to trickle slowly down, between her breasts.
Suddenly, she sensed another person staring at her. Jaimee looked past Cathy’s shoulder to see her ex leaning against a bar stool at the edge of the dance floor, gazing right back at her.
Rosemary. That bitch.
She did not realize she stopped dancing until her dancing partner also paused and turned to look at who Jaimee was staring at so intently. With a sigh, the auburn haired beauty broke contact and walked away, off the dance floor.
“Shit.” Jaimee winced watching her walk away. She then turned back to glare at Rosemary, who now wore a smirk on her face. Unclenching her hands, Jaimee decided to be brave and talk to her ex. Not happy to run into her so soon after their last argument and break up, she felt buzzed enough to be bold and try to ruin Rosemary’s night as much as possible.
As she marched over to her, Jaimee wished she could grab a second to look in a mirror to adjust her dark hair and make sure she was not as sweaty as she felt. Of course, Rosemary looked as hot as ever, Jaimee thought as she came to a stop in front of her.
Jaimee’s ex wore her hair at shoulder length, wavy with a hint of gel in it to give it an edgy look. Black hair framed intense brown, mascaraed eyes. She wore a short, belted, black skirt paired with Doc Martin’s and a light colored tank top. Despite feeling anxiety over seeing her ex, Jaimee felt aroused, warmth spreading from one point and radiating outward in her body. Her mind felt betrayed as her legs brought her close to Rosemary. She stopped in front of her and could not tear her gaze away from looking down into those piercing eyes. Uncomfortable and not trusting what she might say Jaimee remained silent. Generally, she was the aggressor…the hunter... when flirting with women. However, for some reason, with Rosemary the tables were always turned. Her ex was shorter than Jaimee, but far more aggressive.
“Well,” Rosemary said at last, “I hoped to find you here tonight. One of our old, regular haunts.”
Jaimee did not believe her – not for once second. She knew that her ex was trolling one of the gay clubs in town looking for some new conquest or at the very least a one-night stand. Of course, she realized she was doing nearly the same thing. Except Jaimee held on to that forlorn hope that one of the women she met tonight may end up being one to give her that elusive relationship she was always chasing after yet never finding. Although, sometimes she questioned if trying to ‘pick up’ women at the club would work in the quest of finding a bond with another person.
Folding her arms across her chest, Jaimee started, “Why? Why are you looking for me? We broke this off weeks ago and I don’t regret it at all.” She hoped that the lie did not show on her face. She did miss Rosemary. Missed the closeness, missed the sex, but not the m
ean games she played.
“Let’s dance. I really want to talk to you too afterward.” Rosemary purred, reaching and brushing her fingers along Jaimee’s dark hair.
Strength is what she needed, strength to resist. Strength Jaimee simply did not have tonight.
Old habits die hard. Jaimee thought as she fell into the shorter woman’s embrace and began dancing. Every time Rosemary touched her, an electric jolt traveled from the point of contact into her aching core.
After one song, they adjourned to a booth with drinks. Jaimee began to ask what she had to say, but was cut short as Rosemary slid close, smiled, and placed a hand on her inner thigh. Under normal circumstances, Jaimee thought she might have slapped the hand away and left, but the sharp yearning for companionship tonight overcame her anger and irritation.
“I didn’t like seeing you with that redhead. Not your type at all.” Rosemary said. “How have you been?”
“Ok.” Jaimee responded. “I mean…well…wait you never spent enough time finding out what I liked. I do not miss your attitude.”
Rosemary frowned a little and held onto Jaimee’s leg to prevent her from abruptly getting up, “I don’t think I had any attitude, but we can talk more about it later.”
“Look,” she continued. “Can we get out of here? It’s hard to talk over the music. And I want to do more than…talk.” Bending forward, Rosemary touched Jaimee’s face and guided her lips onto hers, kissing her playfully, and gently flicking her tongue.
Remarkably, Jaimee resisted immediately acquiescing to her ex’s flirtations. Yet, she did not push her off her lap either. Instead, she thought about Rosemary’s sensual body, and why she came to the club in the first place. Yes, she wanted to pursue the redhead she had met earlier in the evening, but also craved physical contact. With Rosemary, this was a sure thing.
Besides, what was the harm in a little tryst? Jaimee took a long drink from a glass.
More than a little tipsy, Jaimee placed her arms around Rosemary’s waist, bringing her closer and returning deep kisses. They sat for a while, entwined in the booth, feeding off each other’s sexual energy. In the back of her mind, Jaimee worried that this may not end well for her – it rarely did when it came to her ex. However, Jaimee seemed determined to have the pleasure of making love and having a screaming orgasm this night.
Oh hell, why not? Jaimee shrugged and raised an eyebrow, nodding toward the exit.
*****
Present Day
There was no electricity in the building, although some light filtered in behind Jaimee from the bulletproof windows in a secure lobby area. Quietly, she walked down a short hallway, listening for shuffling feet or other noises. The stench was ripe indoors – most places were now. Earlier she passed up a locked door on the left. Maybe there was a possibility of find keys somewhere in the dim labyrinth. The hallway opened ahead into a long corridor that ran the length of the building to both the left and right. Jaimee wished she had a flashlight, too many dark areas – potential hiding spots for those creatures that could lay in waiting to ambush.
This was the police station for Hartway and Jaimee thought it might be a great place to find guns, ammo, and other gear needed for survival. The problem was living and fighting through what was still inside. Not animals, but the undead. So far, she met only one, which she dispatched with her trusty aluminum softball bat. In high school, Jaimee played the sport and did ‘ok’. For the most part, she played it for the camaraderie with teammates, some of which were fellow ‘Softball dykes’. Some of the sportier types she was attracted to, but others, not so much.
The smell inside the building hinted that there was more death here than one zombie, much more. Hartway sat over twenty-five miles east of Los Angeles, somewhere in between Whittier and Chino. It was a small town that Jaimee found while escaping the heavily populated LA basin.
Not small enough, thought Jaimee. Seriously, I need to find an area where there aren’t so many people. In hindsight, maybe I should go north into the wine country above Santa Barbara. A little too late for that now. The group of refugees she originally traveled with insisted on going to the desert a few hours east of LA. Thinking about safety in numbers, she went along with them. They assured her they had family there and all would be safe. Well, the party failed to make it past downtown. Even after skirting the main part of town, the constant wall of undead kept picking them off one by one, nipping at their heels or ambushing them when fleeing another group of creatures. Jaimee sometimes thought she survived out of pure luck. Regardless of how she endured, she lived to keep moving eastward. Constantly moving. She was tired of running. Exhausted and sleep deprived, Jaimee wanted to find a place to live in in relative safety, if only for a week or two. Turning around was not an option.
Reaching the corridor, she glanced left and right, looking for creatures in the semi darkness. The left side was close to an exit door that let some light through via a small window above. Two doors sat opposite of each other a few feet further down from where she stood. Darkness shrouded the right side, but she could see another exit door far down the corridor. Choosing the left side for obvious reasons, the first door Jaimee tried to open stayed firmly locked. No sound emanated from behind the door, and she turned to the one across the corridor. It stood open a few inches and looked extremely dark inside.
Fuck.
*****
One Month Ago
The apartment was pitch-black inside as Jaimee fumbled for the light switch while Rosemary caressed her arms. Feeling lips nibbling the nape of her neck sent chills through Jaimee’s body. Flipping the light on, they closed the door and turned to face one another. Green eyes looked into brown before raking their gaze down the other’s body and back up to again stare intensely at each other.
Rosemary spoke first, “Damn, I forgot how hot you are. I want to taste you again.” She reached down to pull at Jaimee’s belt that secured her jeans to body.
It had only been a few weeks. I hate her pick-up lines. She’s such a player who pretended to want a relationship. Why did I bring her here? Jaimee mentally fought. Because I’m horny as hell and dammit, she always was a great fuck.
“Just shut up and come here.” Jaimee wrapped hands around Rosemary’s waist and pulled her into a deep kiss. Lips parted as their tongues explored.
Drunk, they fumbled at belt buckles, buttons and zippers in their urgency. Bras discarded onto the floor. Jaimee peeled off her jeans, kicking them aside. Her shirt quickly followed and dropped to the floor. A thrill traveled down her spine as she felt Rosemary’s fingertips tracing her torso and brushing the sides of her breasts. Goosebumps rose along her flesh and the shorter woman’s mouth teased her nipple. Both hardened under Rosemary’s tongue and tiny, soft bites.
Jaimee moaned and brought her ex’s face up to kiss her hard, trying to communicate all the need and lust with an aggressive caress. Their tongues wrestled and could not seem to get enough of one another. They tossed the remainder of their clothing on the carpet, making a trail from the front door, past the kitchen, down the hallway that led eventually into the bedroom.
An onlooker may have thought they were wrestling naked on the queen bed while they jockeyed for position. Both were in aggressive moods and wanted to be the first to pleasure her partner. They ran their hands along each other’s bodies, kissing, licking and tasting lips and flesh. Rosemary slithered on top and spread Jaimee’s legs with her own waist, leaning down, kissing her in triumph. Smiling, Jaimee panted as she felt the dull ache inside her throb with desire, waiting for Rosemary’s intentions. She recalled her ex’s talented tongue, making her clench her thighs – but also remembered the way she could take her with her fingers - not to mention how hard she came when Rosemary used those fingers and hand on her clit and deep inside.
The shorter woman, nibbled along Jaimee’s torso, slowly working her way down, pausing when she reached her thighs. Inhaling the musky scent, Rosemary softly moaned and spread Jaimee’s legs open further, bef
ore starting to slide her tongue slowly around the taller woman’s clit. One of Jaimee’s usual complaints regarding her ex and sex was that she did not believe in much foreplay. Tonight, drunk as she was, she could not care less. Not wasting any time, Rosemary placed two fingers along vagina lips and pushed, making them slip inside the velvet wetness.
Jaimee shuddered and thrust her hips up to meet Rosemary’s pulsing hand and tongue. Breaths coming in short gasps, she knew the climax was quickly coming. Gripping one hand in Rosemary’s hair and other on her own breast, she rode the wave of pleasure as it intensified. Closing her eyes and bucking upward, she screamed.
*****
Present Day
Whatever you do, don’t scream, Jaimee bit her lip as she approached the door. Nothing may be behind it, but there were so many dead walking around, chances were there was at least one of them lurking in the room it led into.
Stepping off to the side, she nudged open the door, bat at the ready. It opened with a soft ‘thunk’, letting a little of the ambient lighting from the hallway chase away some of the darkness. Nothing lunged out of the door but the stench of rotting flesh wafted from the area. Taking a steadying breath, Jaimee inched inside, allowing her eyesight to adjust to the darker room. Lockers lined the wall to her left and three small shower stalls to the right. A door on the opposite side stood closed with something scrawled on it. Too far away to make it out, she moved forward, constantly checking her surroundings in fear. The showers were clear. Nothing moved inside them. Shoulders relaxing a little, Jaimee walked to the door to make out a large red ‘X’ with the words ‘Dead Inside’ close to eye level written on it. She took an involuntary step back thinking she heard movement behind the closed door.
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