The Loving Dead

by Amelia Beamer

  “You hadn’t heard about the Zombie Walk?” Audrey asked. “I missed that one because I was in L.A., but I’m totally going to do it. A bunch of people meet up and walk around, and then go on a pub crawl. You’re not supposed to chase after people. But you can also arrange to be waiting on the route, and get turned into a zombie in public. It’s all very consensual.” Her tits jiggled as she laughed. “Did none of you know about it?”

  Heads around the room shook, a few nodded.

  “Let me know when it is, if you do it,” Sam said. “That zombie stole my heart.”

  “You wouldn’t judge a woman on appearance alone,” Audrey teased. She and Sam had dated, years before, and they still got along pretty well.

  “Carriage and vocals count for a lot,” Cameron said.

  “You got it,” Sam agreed. He helped himself to another beer from the vegetable crisper in the refrigerator, and levered it open with his lighter.

  Michael pulled a bottle of Jack from the cupboard above the range. “Who’s doing a shot with me. Kate? What’s your friend’s name?”

  “Jamie. Hey, Jamie, do a shot with me?” Kate called.

  “I will. Give it here,” Audrey said. “I’m not driving anywhere tonight.” She smiled at Cameron.

  “Somebody say shots?” Freddie came into the kitchen. Dressed as Heath Ledger as the Joker, he had already eaten most of his lipstick. He accepted a drink. “Here’s to the best parties of all time!” Plastic cups converged in a toast. They did some damage to the bottle, and then Freddie got a group together for Rock Band in the living room. Audrey brought out a pipe, which circulated, leaving a sweet smell. People sat outside on the deck, smoking cigarettes and laughing. The house was full of happy, drunk people, some of whom could even sing. Kate and her friend seemed like they were having fun. Michael relaxed. Time passed. People started to say goodbye and leave, but that was OK. It must be getting late. He thought about picking up some of the dead soldiers. But he was comfortable.

  Someone screamed. Inside the house. A girl. Michael stood, spilling his drink. His head swam. There was truth to that old rule about how you can drink twice as much sitting down, but then when you stood up you were twice as drunk. He stumbled into the hallway towards the bedrooms.

  chapter three

  Jamie pulled Kate away from the group while they stood in the kitchen, after a round of shots. “Give me the tour?” she said, putting her arm in Kate’s. Kate’s heart sped up. The booze and food and company were calming, but Jamie made her a bit nervous.

  “Hey, this is for you,” she handed Jamie the pill. “Xanax. You know. It’ll help you relax. My friend Michael’s got a scrip for it.”

  Jamie took it. “What’s the dose?”

  Kate tried to remember. “The little one. Whatever that is. That’s all he could get.”

  “Point two five milligrams. That’s still very nice. Thank you, my dear.”

  Kate grabbed an open wine bottle with her free hand. She led Jamie into the hallway. They passed a few people whom she knew from work or previous parties, and she nodded and said hi without getting entangled in conversations or introductions.

  “You saw the kitchen and living room,” she said. “Bathroom on the right. Master bedroom next door on the right, with another bathroom inside, that’s Michael’s. The guy who opened the door? He rents the house. My bedroom’s on the left here, and Lena’s is in back here. She’s out tonight, probably with her boyfriend. She’s not a big fan of these parties.” Kate looked at Jamie, trying to gauge how Jamie felt about them. “I’m not much for them either, sometimes, although the costumes are good. Michael’s got a hard-on for costume parties.”

  “That hooker was pretty hot, for a dude,” Jamie said.

  They went into Kate’s room, which was messy enough to be embarrassing. She flicked on the desk lamp rather than turning on the overhead, then slipped her arm out of Jamie’s and pushed the clothes and books from the bed. “If you’re tired I can make up the bed with clean sheets for you. If you wanted to stay over. Would you like to go to bed? I mean, to sleep?” She blushed, and was grateful for the low light.

  “Not yet,” Jamie said. She closed the door. “Sit down.”

  Kate sat on the bed. Jamie perched behind Kate and started rubbing Kate’s shoulders. Kate was surprised. She tried to relax into it. She took a sip of wine and held out the bottle to Jamie.

  “Don’t want to mix the grape and the grain.” Her fingers worked Kate’s muscles and tendons, at just the right pressure.

  “You’re really good at this,” Kate said. It had been a long time since anyone had given her a halfway decent shoulder rub, and this was better than halfway.

  “I’m also a massage therapist, though I don’t do it much these days; the lupus fucks with my hands. I also don’t normally give it away for free, but you’re being good to me tonight.”

  “Thanks,” Kate said. “I didn’t know you had lupus.”

  “It’s mild, and it’s not contagious, don’t worry. Just means I have to watch my energy level and sometimes I have to take steroids. It’s an autoimmune thing, in my joints.”

  “Oh, that sucks,” Kate said.

  “I suppose so,” Jamie said, sounding unconcerned. Xanax did that; it was supposed to be for anxiety.

  After a while, Kate said, “You know, I think our generation is possibly a little too concerned about zombies. You ask anyone, they’ve got a zombie contingency plan. The bat under the bed, or whatever, that’s not for thieves.”

  “And yours? You have one?”

  Kate pointed at the bamboo sword in the corner. “I know it’s not much, but it makes me feel better. The whole zombie thing is a joke, and everyone knows it. That’s how I met Michael, actually. Before he convinced me to work at Trader Joe’s, back when I’d just moved here. We used to stick fight every week with this group in People’s Park. Shinais, like the bamboo slat sword there, plus padded knives and swords and nunchucks made of PVC and duct tape.”

  Jamie laughed. “That’s rad.”

  “It’s exercise, at any rate. We’d always play this game called Yojimbo, after this old Kurosawa movie. It’s like reverse tag. One person is It, and everyone chases them. Whoever landed the killing blow is the next It, and then anyone who got killed by the previous It gets to come back. The point is to kill everyone, and sometimes you can do it, if you’re really lucky.”

  Jamie leaned forward and brought one of Kate’s sleeves to her nose.

  Kate froze. She probably smelled of sweat. The way Jamie exhaled, the hum in her throat, made it clear that she was enjoying herself. So maybe Kate didn’t smell. Or whatever she smelled of, Jamie liked it. There was an inherent contract; smell led to taste. Kate felt a warm tingling in her belly. She knew where this might go. She was trying to decide if she wanted it. Jamie seemed to. She seemed to expect that Kate wanted it.

  Jamie kissed Kate’s shoulder. Once, as if tapping a microphone to check that it was on. “So do you have any brothers or sisters?” Jamie asked. She ran her fingers through Kate’s hair.

  “A brother, three years younger. Still lives with my parents. If you wanted to go home, I can get Michael to drive me to my car in the morning. I just didn’t want you going off by yourself. I was worried.”

  “That’s sweet. But I’m too drunk to drive now,” Jamie said. “Just relax. Don’t worry about it. So tell me, where are you from?” The smile in Jamie’s voice told Kate that Jamie knew she was just teasing by making small talk. Prolonging what she was trying to make inevitable. Her fingers dug into Kate’s shoulders.

  Kate found it hard to talk. “Wisconsin. Near Madison. The Berkeley of the Midwest, except for Ann Arbor claims that. Calls Berkeley the Ann Arbor of the West.” She stopped. Jamie was kissing her shoulder. Jamie bit, just hard enough. Kate shivered. She decided that she wanted this. It was the easiest way. And maybe it was the right thing to do, after what they’d been through already tonight.

  “Turn around.”

  Kate
did.

  “You’ve never been with a woman, have you?” Jamie smiled like she found this amusing.

  Kate nodded, forcing herself to meet Jamie’s gaze. During the belly dance class, all of the girls would watch Jamie as she demonstrated the moves. Jamie would raise her shirt, tying it off to reveal a long, muscled torso. Sometimes Kate found herself watching the Ouroboros tattoo that coiled around Jamie’s hips, the snake’s mouth open to eat its tail above her navel. If Jamie didn’t have that tattoo, Kate might have been able to pay more attention to the moves. Not that she was normally attracted to women, or that she would ever have acted on it. Maybe she had a little crush, she admitted.

  “That’s OK.” Jamie touched Kate’s cheek. “It’s hard to meet women, you know? I think that’s why some girls come to the belly dance class. It’s why I started dancing in the first place, to meet women. Gay guys, they got it easy. Everybody knows they’re gay: they’re the only guys who style their hair, and when they check each other out, you know what they’re thinking. But women check each other out no matter what. I’m walking down the street, and I see a chick, and I don’t know if she thinks I’m cute, or if she’s just trying to figure out where I bought my shoes.” Jamie leaned forward, turning Kate to face her. Their mouths met. What happened then was complicated and friendly and different from anything Kate could remember.

  “My boyfriend doesn’t kiss like that,” Kate said when Jamie pulled away. Boyfriend wasn’t really the term for what Walter was, but the situation was too complicated to explain.

  “Guys don’t know. At least, not any guy I dated, when I was a kid. Sucking face, we called it, and that was basically what it was. People who think youth is the high point of life should be condemned to the lousy sex we all had back then, while the rest of us get it together and figure out what we like. Women don’t hit their sexual peak until their thirties, anyway. You’ve got time.” Jamie toyed with Kate’s hair while she talked. She smelled so good. Kate wanted very badly to please her.

  Kate understood that Jamie wanted to be kissed. Kate moved slowly towards Jamie, enjoying the tension. Jamie tasted of lipstick. Kate learned how Jamie liked to be kissed: starting gently, and building up. Jamie rubbed her thumbnail over Kate’s nipple, through her shirt. Kate took an involuntary breath.

  “Does your door lock?” Jamie asked. Her voice was low and husky.

  Kate put her hands over Jamie’s. “Yes,” she said. She stood to lock the door. The room tilted just a little as she found her balance; she didn’t think she was drunk enough that she’d regret this later. Muffled laughter came from down the hall; everyone was busy. They wouldn’t be interrupted.

  “You’re beautiful when you smile,” Jamie said.

  Kate stood next to the bed. She was always nervous the first time with someone new. Things changed after you let yourself get naked. There would always be that between you, the vulnerability that comes from letting down your guard.

  Jamie smiled, and held out a hand. Kate let Jamie pull her onto the bed. They lay together. As Jamie kissed her neck, Kate concentrated on remembering everything, so she could play it back later and understand it. She found Jamie’s earlobe with her mouth, and nibbled the length of it. She put her tongue inside, tasting skin and wax, and was rewarded with a gasp. Jamie took Kate’s hands in her own, kissing Kate’s fingertips.

  “First, this,” Jamie said. She removed Kate’s shirt and bra. She took Kate’s nipples in her fingers. She pinched them gently, moving them around in slow circles. She bit Kate’s shoulder. The sensations induced by Jamie’s mouth, her hands, her proximity, were intense.

  Jamie took Kate’s pants down. She licked her fingers. Slipped one finger inside Kate, then two, and then three. She kept her fingers moving, in and out with a knowledgeable come-hither pressure on Kate’s G-spot. She whispered gentle words. With her thumb on Kate’s clitoris, Jamie kissed the insides of Kate’s thighs, then her belly, working her way up to take Kate’s painfully hard nipples into her mouth. Kate gasped. The world was collapsing to this; there was nothing else but this, and there was no shame in it. She had her hands in Jamie’s hair.

  “Don’t stop,” Kate said. Over and over, until she couldn’t speak. It was a beautifully long orgasm. As it ebbed, Kate couldn’t help but laugh. Lying on her back, she felt the tension leave her. She kept her eyes closed. She squeezed Jamie’s fingers, still inside her, and Jamie took that as a signal to withdraw.

  Jamie licked her fingers, then smiled. “You’re not so straight after all,” she said softly. She lay down next to Kate and put an arm around her. Their faces were close. “That’s okay. Every girl can eat a little pussy and still be straight. Women’s sexuality is more fluid, anyway.”

  “Thank you,” Kate managed.

  Jamie put a finger over Kate’s lips. “That’s not what you say.” She stood and removed her shirt and bra, revealing a tattoo of a pomegranate on the inside of her left breast, and the Ouroboros tattoo around her waist. Her pubic hair was light brown, trimmed short, and her labia emerged beneath it like lips; her clitoris like a tongue.

  Kate was transfixed. Jamie was so hot. Why hadn’t she really seen it before?

  Jamie took her bag from the floor, and removed something from it. She held out a length of rope. Two lengths of rope, it turned out. “I can’t come without being tied up,” she said. “So you get to do it. You don’t have to hit me or anything. Not on the first date.” She winked. “Seriously though. Don’t hit me.”

  “Thank you for trusting me,” Kate said. The rope felt awfully heavy. This wasn’t how she’d expected to spend the evening. But she wanted to do this. Wanted to do it right. Jamie demonstrated how to tie what she called a rolling hitch. Around and through, around and through, and then the circle went around Jamie’s wrist. She pulled to tighten it, and tied the other end of the rope to the bedpost. Jamie tied a second rolling hitch, and told Kate to tie the other end to the bedpost.

  Kate looped the rope around and started to tie it.

  “Tighter,” Jamie said. “Please, honey.”

  Kate pulled the rope tighter, until Jamie’s arms were splayed and the skin was taut over her ribs. It was funny, and awkward, and sexy. Kate kissed the inside of Jamie’s wrist, working her way up Jamie’s arm as she finished securing the rope to the bed frame.

  “I’ve never done this before,” Kate said. “And I can’t imagine why not,” she added.

  Jamie laughed, then grew serious. “Please. Come here,” she said.

  Kate kissed the spot between Jamie’s neck and shoulder, then bit gently, and was rewarded with Jamie’s intake of breath.

  “Yes,” Jamie said.

  “Yes,” Kate said. She put her tongue in Jamie’s ear. Jamie’s arms tensed, pulling against her bonds. Kate thought about where else she could put her tongue. She kissed the pomegranate tattoo on Jamie’s breast, tracing it with her tongue. She circled Jamie’s breasts with her mouth, enjoying the feeling. Finally she allowed her tongue to graze one nipple, and was rewarded with a gasp. She’d never had a woman’s nipple in her mouth. It felt so large and sensitive.

  “Harder,” Jamie said.

  Kate obeyed, wanting to please. She straddled Jamie’s body, tonguing her nipples until Jamie’s hips thrust upwards. Only then did she allow herself to kiss Jamie’s stomach, marveling at the Ouroboros tattoo. She kissed the snake’s head, flicked her tongue inside Jamie’s navel, then moved down. Jamie spread her legs, and Kate started at one knee, moving to the other.

  “Like that, yes,” Jamie said. Her voice was deep and husky. “Oh.”

  Kate concentrated, kissing from knee to knee. She wanted Jamie to come, wanted to hear and feel her orgasm. Jamie’s thighs were wet with saliva.

  “Yes,” Jamie said.

  Kate moved Jamie’s panties to one side, and flicked her tongue into Jamie’s warm center. The taste was strong but not unpalatable. She did it again, hoping for a gasp or a moan. She put one knuckle of her index finger inside, resting her che
ek against Jamie’s thigh, waiting for a reaction. She brushed Jamie’s clitoris first with her nose and then her tongue. Jamie was still.

  “Jamie?” Kate said. “Am I going too fast?”

  Jamie’s breathing had slowed down. “Um, something’s happening,” she said. “It’s not you, baby. Something. Wrong.” She let out a low moan. Kate lifted her head.

  “Jamie?”

  Jamie was looking up at the ceiling. She let out another moan, deep and strange. “Something’s happening,” Jamie said. She grimaced. She tried to sit, but was stopped by the ropes. Jamie looked from one tied hand to the other, as if surprised.

  “Jamie?” Kate said. She backed away until she fell off the bed. She stood up, stumbling over the clothes and books on the floor. “Jamie?”

  Jamie moaned again, and pulled on the ropes.

  Kate backed into the light switch. She turned, and fumbled it on.

  Jamie’s eyes were milky white, as if cataracts had suddenly developed. Her mouth was open, her teeth bared. Her skin had turned ashen gray. Jamie licked her lips with a tongue the color of well-done burger.

  Kate screamed.

  chapter four

  Michael ran to Kate’s room. The door was locked. He was sure the scream had come from inside. “Kate, are you all right? What’s going on?”

  There was a low moan. “I can explain,” a weak voice called.

  The remains of the party had made their way to the hallway by the time Kate emerged. She shut the door behind her. Her top was on inside out, and she was still pulling up her terrycloth pants. “I can explain,” she said. Then she burst into tears. “Something happened!”

  Another moan from inside the room only added mystery. “Where’s your friend?” Michael asked. “She OK?” He reached for the door handle.