by Leela Ash
Her utterances were barely more than animal sounds at this point as she accepted his sex into her in this most primal of positions. She buried her face in the comforter to muffle her cries. Even as she surrendered gratefully to his strength, her body moved back to meet each one of his hard strokes. Finally she began to slow down, even as the man rutting inside of her went faster and harder. She lifted her head up and almost begged for him to release inside of her. She was completely spent and couldn’t take any more.
“Please come Mike.”
She squeezed her quim tight, suffocating his shaft and pushing him to his own end. A few more pumps and he was bellowing out his own pleasure deep inside her. Even as his seed came in hot spurts inside of her, he collapsed on top of her panting as he caressed her sweat slick back with the minimal effort he could manage.
They lay entangled for a moment before Michael pulled out again. By now they were both exhausted and sore, and extremely satisfied.
“Oh my God Jessa, I think I’m going to pass out.”
“Well good, ‘cause I think we both need to. I need to get back to my own bed and get some sleep.”
Michael had a look of mock hurt on his face as he grabbed her and pulled her body back to his.
“Can’t you stay with me tonight Jessa? What happened to no more running away?”
Jessa pushed against his large chest and then gently chided him.
“I’m not running away, okay? I love you, remember.”
With that she kissed his forehead and he kissed hers.
“Well I guess it would be ok if I stayed with you a little while longer. I just want to get back in my bed before Shane wakes up, ok?”
“Whatever you say my queen. I am your humble servant.”
She giggled contentedly as his lips met hers. He had been joking but he also meant every word. He would do whatever he had to make her happy – and to keep her safe.
***
Billy, Marshal and Jimmy waited on the bottom of the hill, looking up at the house that held the woman they had been tracking for weeks. They waited until the sounds in the house died down to plot their next move. Better to let them fall asleep.
“Fuck I thought that would never end. You sure you don’t want to keep her around for a while?”
Marshal nodded, agreeing with Jimmy. Every one of the men had a hard knot from overhearing the two of them going at it.
“Would you two shut up!? I don’t want them to know we are coming. He was not thrilled with the idea of the men doing any more than what had to be done, but he also knew that to keep his men happy, he sometimes had to allow them to express certain of their urges.
“I bet Chase was trying to tap that ass when she got over on him.”
“Of course he was,” Billy said. What he didn’t say, but only thought, was that the whole thing was pretty fitting. It was a shame that she had to be punished. He almost admired her. There had actually been times that he had thought he would have to deal with Chase’s less savory “habits” himself. He also wasn’t thrilled that in all likelihood the man in there with her was Michael. He was another one he liked. But what had to be done had to be done.
“Well unless you want to end up like him, get your head out of your ass.”
The three men walked up the side of the hill to the little house and waited. They had finally tracked them to the house just before nightfall, so they had not even laid eyes on them. They knew they were in there, but they were still unsure of exactly who they were up against. As things quieted down the only question was whether to strike now or perhaps wait for the morning so they could first get a better look at their prey before they struck.
THE END
Continues in Book 3…
For the Love of Zombies: Not so HEA
Sadie Simms
Copyright ©2016 by Cynthia Wilde. All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic of mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Chapter 1
The air was warm and sticky when Robert awoke. He didn’t even need to reach across to the other side of the bed to know that Britney wasn’t there. He could see the small outline of her petite figure imprinted on the well-worn mattress. She was up and about. This room was designed for sleeping only. Things may have to change soon. He knew that, but he liked the security this tiny homemade bunker offered at night.
Getting out of bed, he crawled out of the tunnel and made the 25-meter journey to the wooden latch that opened into the ranch house. The blast of fresh air made him more alert. The open and airy timber house was the epitome of country coziness in its decor. Most would say present times weren’t ideal, but essentially Robert didn’t hate the circumstances.
Sure, the dead coming to life and nearly annihilating humankind wasn’t good news by anyone’s standards. But those that made it through were given the opportunity to appreciate the smaller things in life when your interaction was with people and not technology.
He knew the plague of the undead was causing more global pain and suffering than all of humanity’s wars and atrocities combined, but since the “disease” was unleashed, he had actually found his own quality of life improved. Prior to the collapse of society, Robert had run a successful cattle ranch. He had beef and dairy contracts with one of the biggest grocery chains in the country, which provided him with a sizable income. He had loved the work and so had his wife. But Janet, his high school sweetheart, had been taken from him five years earlier by breast cancer. Losing her had torn him apart – he saw no future in carrying on. His eldest son, Bobby, was deeply affected as well. He channeled his loss into rage and rebellion and decided to join the army. He probably also had enough of the farm and hoped to see the world. Robert just hoped his rebellion and exploration of the world wouldn’t get him killed by enemy fire. His younger son, Peter, had been drawn closer to his recently widowed father and stepped up, deciding he would join him on the ranch. Before her death though, his wife had been adamant that Peter complete his education first.
Zombie. The word sounded ridiculous in his head, but that was how the last few news and information bulletins referred to them. Then all TV stations went off the air. With no wife, a son in the armed forces and a son in college, he essentially lived alone until the world changed overnight.
Grabbing an apple from a basket resting on the edge of the marble breakfast bench, he shook his head to clear the memories and bring him back to the present. He took a bite and let his ears attune to the sounds of the house. If his deductions were correct, Peggy would still be sound asleep upstairs. He padded up the stairs in his slippers. Pausing by Peggy’s door, he gently pushed it open to view her in bed. The covers heaved up and downwards and the ninety-two year old’s face looked peaceful and content.
Peggy was more pleasant to be around when she was asleep than when she was awake. With the onset of dementia, she had become hard work for the small make-shift household to take care of. He knew it wasn’t her fault and that any semblance of her old routine had been shattered by having to adapt to radical new ways of living. Nonetheless, Robert found it exceedingly frustrating at times and often resented her being in the house.
Stepping into what used to be his bedroom, he flung open the door to the built-in wardrobe. He had long since moved his actual sleeping quarters to a more fortified position. He had literally dug into the ground for protection. At fifty-two, he was a man of simple tastes and wanted to live, so he had no problem sleeping in a hole in the ground just in case. Although he was already in a fortified compound, the key to survival, in his opinion, was multiple layers of defense. Looking through the wardrobe, he finally dragged on a pair of worn jeans and yanked out a flannel check shirt. The outfit was comfortable and practical for the work he had ahead.
He scurried down the stairs, and his feet went easily into his leather
boots. Outside was positively glorious. On days like today, he thought, you could almost imagine that the world hadn’t gone to total shit. The sun shone down brightly, making beads of sweat develop on his brow and down his back so that his shirt stuck to his skin.
The ranch was not what it once was, that was for sure. The open spaces no longer stretched on as far as the eye could see. As a farmer, Robert was adaptable and had a seemingly innate command of survival techniques ingrained in his character long before things went to hell. He'd downsized the borders of the property considerably but kept it large enough to permit a fruit orchard, vegetable patch and fields for the pigs, cows and goats. The land was secured by huge trucks parked together, marking a “safe” area for him to engage in basic farming, as well as a space to have some semblance of a day-to-day life.
When news of the plague hit, Robert drove for over a day to reach the main supermarket that sourced his goods. Havoc reigned supreme with looters. Seeing which way the wind was blowing, Robert found a fully stocked van, whose previous owner was nowhere to be found. You had to do what you had to do these days, and he promptly drove it to his property. The height of the trucks prevented the zombies from climbing them. The trucks he'd accumulated over time were parked strategically so that the ladders faced inwards. Aware that they were capable of crawling, Robert bailed up barbed wire under and over every vehicle to prevent any strays coming his way and invading his semi-peaceful surroundings.
The idea seemed ingenious to Robert. He made the trip a few times to the supermarkets to gather as many heavyweight vehicles as possible and fill them with food and drink and drive them home to secure the ranch. He decided to extend his attempts to fortify his property by obtaining other trucks that held relevant stock or produce that could benefit Robert and his animals.
He even had the good fortune of coming across a gas station that had numerous tanker trucks abandoned in the car park. The mammoth vehicles not only provided protection from the undead, but afforded Robert the luxury of a good diesel supply to run generators as well as a light truck for short foraging journeys.
It was during his discovery of the service station that he first stumbled across Britney.
Chapter 2
The man who had just stepped out of the truck didn’t look threatening to Britney. Her step-brother, Liam, wasn’t quite as sure. They’d been hiding in the service station for weeks. Mostly people came through, filled their engines with gas, pilfered what stock they could find, and moved on. However this guy drove religiously to the station for three days in a row and made off with one of the tankers each time, strapping his motorcycle to the truck each time so he could return the next day.
“If we don’t approach him soon, we’ll be stuck here forever,” hissed Britney at her older brother.
He silenced her by putting his fingers to his lips. A star of the university basketball team at six foot five, Liam was reasonably confident if things got physical he could take the middle-aged man out. Britney could see Liam measuring up the older man.
“Haven’t you noticed he never brings a gun? Never comes with other people. Never comes in to steal what little food we have left for Grandma.”
“She’s your grandmother, not mine,” growled Liam, reminding her that they weren't related by blood.
“We should talk to him.”
“It’s not safe,” snapped Liam.
His head felt achy, and he was experiencing hot flashes.
“It’s not safe here with you either,” said Britney tersely.
She immediately wished she hadn’t.
Liam’s hand went to the tear in the lower left leg of his jeans. “I keep thinking how many times we’ve been held at gunpoint and threatened and abused by people stumbling across this service station and none of those fuckers pulled the trigger. I go out the back for one fucking beer and some time to think, only to find one of those creatures lurking around. Clearly it was as hungry as we were,” recalled Liam for the umpteenth time, still flummoxed by his bad luck.
There was no need for Britney to reiterate that the creature had taken a sizeable bite of flesh from Liam. The wound was an angry, raised bleeding welt, weeping with puss.
“I still can’t believe I managed to stay alive through all the initial chaos and violence, only to get bitten by a fucking zombie. It’s fucking bullshit. I’m going to be one of them and suddenly I’m scared. Really scared. Scared that maybe there’s no God or no heaven. Scared I’ll be trapped in a body and unable to communicate. Scared I won’t register anything or anyone.”
Britney was shocked to see Liam crying. They weren’t the closest of step-siblings. With Liam being a senior at college, Britney’s clique of freshmen friends thought him a complete heartthrob. His athletic physique and dark black crew cut contrasting with ocean blue eyes drew a lot of female attention.
“Liam, I know… We’ll deal with that. But for now, this man seems harmless. One day soon he’ll complete his truck collection and won’t ever come back here, and we don’t know how long it’ll be before we even see anyone else. He’s older. He looks like he knows what’s going on. He looks as if he can help. He must also be taking those trucks somewhere. I bet it’s safer than here.”
Liam sat in silence on his haunches, rocking back and forth trying to control his temper.
“There’s no fucking cure, Britney.” He was understandably fixed on the “I’m going to turn into a fucking zombie” topic.
“We don’t know that, and even if there’s not, he might be able to make sure you don’t turn into one of them.”
“What if he won’t talk? Won’t help us?” asked Liam stonily.
“Then I’ll make him,” asserted Britney. “I have my ways.”
By now the stranger had loaded up his bike behind the cab of the truck and was preparing to start off. It was unclear if he was somehow hotwiring the trucks, or if he had actually found the keys, but either way, they heard the truck roar to life. She raced across the parking lot out of Robert’s line of sight and began to climb the ladder at the back of the tanker.
What the hell was she doing? wondered Liam. As her plan dawned on him, he raced after her with equal stealth.
She was going to get herself killed.
“Let me come with you!”
“You can’t. You won’t make it. You don’t have the energy or strength to hold on.”
“You don’t know that you do, either,” protested Liam.
“No, but I’ve a better chance. Stay here with gran – Peggy. I’ll come back as soon as he gets to wherever he’s going and I’ve explained everything to him.”
“What if you don’t come back? I won’t know how to track you.”
For once his tone was completely that of a concerned and overprotective brother. Britney hugged him hard.
“If I don’t come back, you, me and Peggy will all end up the in the same place anyway,” she answered sadly. “We have to do something. We’re almost out of food and gran’s in bad shape.”
The truck began to pull away and Britney felt her eyes welling with tears as she left the last two souls she knew on earth in the dust.
Chapter 3
Robert had actually spotted the girl the moment she jumped on the truck, but he decided to allow her to hitch a ride with him. He figured he would see what she was made of. His intuition told him she wasn’t trouble. He could just tell by the way she moved that she was hardly a street smart criminal. Still, it was unclear exactly what she was, but he would be better able to handle her on his own and within his own compound where he had the advantage.
That had been months ago. The important part is that he had taken them in. Once he heard her story, it was a no-brainer, so to speak. It just made sense. He was lost in the revelry of thinking about their first meeting as he now searched throughout the compound to find her. He had a pretty good idea of where she was actually. Irritation seized him as he climbed a truck and finally located the girl on the opposite side of the perimeter, just where he
thought she’d be. He slid down the truck and began walking toward her, shaking his head. She was so engrossed, she didn’t hear his approach. A familiar member of the undead had a length of cord round his ankle, tied to a peg secured deep in the ground. Britney was holding the creature’s rotting hand and trying to make eye contact. He couldn’t hear what she was saying, but she was deliberately keeping her speaking voice low and soothing.
Impulsively, he wanted to jump in and wretch her away from the vulgar anomaly. But if he startled the zombie, it might bite or lash out at her and that was the last thing he wanted.
“Britney,” he whispered.
Robert’s voice was equivalent to golden honey. Britney turned and dropped the zombie’s hand she’d been using to caress her cheek.
“Step back,” he ordered, his voice barely sounding.
The instant Britney stepped back, the zombie growled and reached for her. Britney fell to her rump, but Robert was there to catch her and drag her from the creature’s reach. Ensuring she was out of harm’s way, Robert sat next to her. He wanted to console her but didn’t know where to start.
“He doesn’t know you, Brit,” he said kindly, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.
“You don’t know that.”
“No, I don’t. But whether he does or not, he still wants to eat you.”
“That’s because he’s starving.”
Robert studied Liam, or what was left of him. He was a shadow of a man, his jeans and shirt now in tatters. The baseball shirt he was wearing was oversized. He once had a sturdy frame, but it had wasted considerably since turning.
“I don’t think this is healthy, Brit. You gotta stop.”
“He’s my family.”
