Nashville Summers

by Grayson Elliot

  "Hiding?” I asked sardonically, at the empty room. "Where are you, ya lousy worm-eaten whore?!” I crept in and peered under the bed. There was nothing there but a small box, no undead sister, and no junk either. Andrew must be very meticulous, I thought. I mean, under my bed I kept all sorts of shit like trash, comic books, old soda cans, and porn.

  Porn... hmmm... That made me wonder what was in this box of Andrew’s. Sure I was being nosy and this was none of my business, but so what? I had just saved the kid from becoming a one-course dinner for his worm bait sister! The way I saw it after what I'd been through I had the right to know! And what harm would it do? Besides, there was no way Andrew would ever find out. The hunt for Victoria could wait fifteen seconds. Once I was through rationalizing I dropped back down to one knee and pulled out the box.

  I glanced worriedly around the room before opening it up, afraid that the sister might have materialized while I wasn't looking. Convinced that she hadn't, I pulled the top off the box and my eyes were met with a magazine with two large letters ‘XY’ at the top. There were pictures of, I was surprised to see, skimpily clothed guys decorating the cover. Incredulously I took the first on the top on the box and sure enough, beneath were many others. Andrew liked this sort of thing? Alright! Despite the horrible slaughter, death, and violence that had become a way of life for me, I was starting to feel kind of lucky.

  As I put the top back on the box and slid it back under the bed, a familiar smell began to pervade my nostrils. Death... zombies... here! I tried to stand up and turn around but it was no use. I was smacked across the face from behind, the sudden shock sending me sprawling across the room, dropping my axe in the process. "Liked what you saw there, did you?" came that horrible zombie voice again, ripping up my ears. I groaned, the pain in my head growing, and reached for my axe. But Victoria had already gotten to it. "Looking for this?" she asked, and gave me a sickly, undead grin. "It's mine now."

  As quickly as I could I jumped up to my feet and backed away from the wide arcs of her axe swings, until I could go no further - I was pinned against the far wall with no escape in sight. Or was there? Beside me I saw a large window. Maybe if I could jump out I could make my escape. But my hopes were shattered as soon as a glanced outside. There was quite a long drop down to earth. There was no question that I would survive the fall, however, fighting zombies is difficult to do with a broken arm or leg.

  With inhuman fury, Victoria swung the axe at my head again. But in her scrawny arms the axe became unwieldy, and while her attack was powerful and accurate it was also very slow. I easily ducked the blow and with a loud thunk and the axe became imbedded in the wall behind where my head had been. Hissing violently, the zombie tried its best to pull it out, but to no avail; it was stuck. Now I was back to unarmed combat. There had to be some way for me to get the upper hand. Still snarling, the zombie struck, raking its nails across my face before I could deflect the blow.

  Pain shot through my face and I stumbled backwards, blindly grabbing my head in my hands. Before I had the chance to recoil, it back-handed me, her blow connecting squarely to my jaw. The taste of blood filled my mouth and the zombie's triumphant cackle filled my ears. The giddy, gloating, evil laughter was more than I could take. With a sudden burst of anger I swung my right hand back in a powerful punch that connected with its face with a sharp crack. It stumbled backwards and I swung again with my left fist, sending Victoria sprawling against the window. Seeing my chance I lined up a powerful kick right to its gut.

  It groaned once the kick connected, and fell backwards with incredible force, shattering the window and falling out the broken hole. "No!" it screamed as it fell, thrashing its arms and legs about wildly, almost as if that might slow its decent. With a sickening thud it crashed to the ground where it lay motionless. I rushed over to the window and stuck my head out. Was it dead? It couldn't have been. No fuckin' way one little fall like that would kill a zombie, especially if it didn't even land on its head.

  Sure enough, after just a brief moment the body twitched and stirred and eventually rose. Victoria got to her feet and scampered away into the night, away from the house. Would she come back later for Andrew and me? With a grunt of effort I pulled my axe from the wall. "If she does...” I muttered out the window into the moist night air, "I'll be ready."

  With a little bit of a skip in my step I exited the room and jumped down the stairs, wiping the blood off my face with the back of my hand. I had got halfway down the hallway when I stopped short, and thought a moment. Sure, Andrew and I would have to leave this house, but that could wait until later. It was still pouring outside, and now that Victoria had left it was as safe as any other on the street. We could stay here for the night and leave in the morning. "Perfect!” I whispered to myself, and turned on my heels. If we were going to be staying here the night, we'd need food, water... and a few other things.

  Maybe ten more minutes had passed when I returned to Andrew’s closet with a whole bag of stuff I had gathered around his house. I gently rapped on the door with my knuckles. "It's me Andrew," I assured him, and he pushed the door open gently, admitting me inside. "Hi," he whispered breathlessly, still quite a bit shaken up after all he had been through.

  The closet that was known as our refuge was large, more a pantry than anything else. However, it was completely empty, devoid of everything except me, Andrew, my axe, and the bag I had brought. "I stopped off at the kitchen, got some stuff to eat," I told him while displaying the bag. "You hungry, dude?"

  He ignored my question. "Are you hurt?" he asked, staring at my face. I remembered the cuts his sister had given me. I reached up to feel them. Once again they were wet with blood and I lifted my shirt up all the way to my chest to wipe it off.

  "This? Naw, it's just a scratch, it'll be fine.” That was the truth; the wounds weren't deep at all. But they sure did hurt. I dabbed again with my shirt and then decided the hell with it. I ripped the shredded, bloody thing right off my back and pressed it to my face, applying pressure.

  For a moment Andrew looked back at me, an expression of concern passing over his beautiful features. When he was convinced I would be fine, he turned his eyes towards my bag of food. "What did you get?" he asked. His voice still meek and soft, sounding very musical to me. I turned to the bag and started pulling stuff out at random.

  "Here's some bread," I said, tossing him a loaf. "And some celery, and a couple slices of some kinda cold cut... your fridge was pretty empty, not much chance to go to the grocery store with zombies invading the town huh?" I rambled, throwing food items at him all the while. "The milk looked rancid so I didn't touch it, but here's a jug of tap water, it's important to be fully hydrated while fighting the evil dead. I also grabbed some fruit even though it looked kinda old, and your gay porn from upstairs," I added, all in the same monotone voice. "Thought it might be fun to have them around... oh, and here's some more bread..."

  My voice trailed off as the bag was now empty, and turned my head in Andrew’s direction. He was looking at me as if I had turned into a zombie. Had I fucked up? No, I thought. It would be cool. I moved closer to him, staring into his eyes. They were the coolest color I had ever seen, with dancing swirls of an icy blue against the backdrop of a pure, pure white. I wanted to let him know everything was going to be alright with both the zombies and the magazines. That I would be there to protect him from the undead, and even to love him, if he would let me. Again I moved closer, his expression softening a little. I opened my mouth a little to speak to say everything I needed to say, but no words came out. Instead I leaned forward, just slightly, and he did the same. Slowly, we came closer and closer together until our lips finally met in a kiss.

  He was wearing a blue t-shirt, stained and splotched here and there with blood. My hands moved down to pull it off. At first he just kissed me back, but when I finally started pulling the shirt over his head he hesitated, breaking off the kiss nervously. "We shouldn't do this," he murmured anxiously, clearly not meaning t
he words.

  "Why not?” I asked throatily, not stopping, pulling him closer, and running my hands over his back lovingly.

  Still pulling away gently, he replied, "The zombies..."

  "Fuck the zombies," I stated flatly. I pulled him closer to me again, rejoining our lips in another kiss and pulling him down on top of me to the soft carpeting of the closet floor. He finally finished shedding his shirt himself and now began wriggling out of his pants with his boxer briefs following, with his warm wet mouth pressed to mine the whole time. With that out of the way, my hands ran down his unclothed sides to his ass, cupping the two twin globes in my hands, squeezing gently.

  His hands went down to my belt, undid it, and awkwardly pulled my jeans down to my ankles. My cock was already hard from having a naked Andrew rubbing against me, and sprang up immediately and pressed comfortably against his own. It was long and thick. I heard Andrew moan gently against my mouth, and then felt him remove his mouth from mine, moving it down my neck, down my chest, torso, and then lower.

  The feeling of his hot breath on my cock made me nearly cum right there. But I held on as I felt his tongue begin to lap at my head. I shuddered pleasurably, and then again as I felt his soft, moist lips purse around my shaft moving slowly downwards toward the base. With his left hand he reached upwards and squeezed my ass while his right was wrapped around the base of my cock.

  Gently moaning, I grasped the back of Andrew’s head with my hands holding it tightly to my cock, feeling truly wonderful for the first time in my life. But again he shifted positions, moving upward on my body straddling my hips. His soft thighs pressed against my sides and his hole was invitingly positioned right above my saliva-lubricated cock. Slowly, he lowered himself onto me. I felt my cock press against his tight opening, resisting gently.

  All of a sudden he pushed himself down all the way with one, powerful thrust, and a slight gentle groan. I gasped pleasurably from surprise, and wrapped my hands around Andrew’s sides and pulled him closer into a kiss. He responded by immediately thrusting his tongue into my mouth, and then bouncing his hips up and down, slowly but steadily.

  Eventually, Andrew groaned pleasurably into my mouth as I felt his thick cock spurt warm cum all over my torso. I couldn’t take it anymore. The contractions of his ass muscles and his moans pushed me over the edge. I shot my load inside of him, more pleasurably than anything my right hand had ever given me. More than that, it was the greatest feeling I had ever known, even better than killing zombies.

  Now that we were both finished, I pulled out and he rolled off me, never breaking the kiss. We stayed in that position for a long time, until eventually, weary from the day's events and sex, Andrew broke the kiss. He laid his head on my chest and fell asleep. When he did, I smiled briefly then gently moved his head off me, trying not to wake him. I wiped the Andrew juice from my torso and pulled my pants back on. I picked up the axe and slung it over my shoulder, then set to work guarding the closet door. It would be a long night, fraught with undead creatures and evil peril, and Andrew needed me to watch over him. I was damned if I was going to let the zombies get him now.

  Chapter 4

  In case you've never tried standing guard all night against a foul invasion of the living dead, let me tell you this much: it isn't half as fun as it seems. I sat there, my precious fifty-dollar plaid shirt in ruins, and my knuckles white as I clenched the handle of my blood-soaked axe as tight as I could. With my back to the wall, I stared at the door all night, half expecting some zombie beast to rip it off the hinges and come in, snarling for brains.

  Well, ok now, so maybe that wasn't entirely true. So maybe I didn't spend the entire time staring at the door. Or even any. I'd been too busy fixing my gaze on Andrew’s angelic, sleeping form. Every time I tried to tear my gaze away from him I failed, miserably. Hey, even gay zombie smackers have hormones, and right now mine were running about a mile a minute. Not once did I so much as feel the urge to sleep, because that would have meant abandoning my post. I mean hell, even before Andrew and I had fucked - excuse me, made love - I'd wanted to protect him. But now, now I was just about ready to take on the entire army of darkness in his name.

  Yawning, I got up and stretched, and even flexed a little. I was bare-chested, having discarded my scrappy rags the previous night, and it made me feel a little tough, like Bruce Campbell on that Evil Dead 3 poster. Granted I didn't have quite the abs or the pecs he did, but hey, give me time, I'm only a teenager. I rubbed my hand down my torso, feeling gently for muscle. There was a little that was sort of noticeable, but who the fuck cares? I was strong enough to beat the undead shit out of zombies and hot enough to give Andrew a hard-on, and at the moment those were the only two things that I gave a flying fuck about.

  I gingerly crept over to the closet door and slid it open as quickly and quietly as I could with one hand, and readied my axe with the other. If there were any zombies out and about I was ready. But I figured there wouldn't be, and I was right; the room was empty, completely devoid of afterlife. The entire night I had sat up watching over Andrew, and now it was morning, a new day. I had an empty gas can in need of a refilling and a chainsaw back home that was longing to tear into some corpse guts.

  I swung open the door, and woke Andrew with a gentle shake. "Here's your wake-up call babe," I said coolly, brushing some black strands of hair and some dried blood out of his face. "We gotta get moving while we can, zombies don't like to come out during the day."

  Blinking, he just looked up at me, yawned, and rubbed his eyes. "Huh?" he asked, still sleepy. "Where are we going?" "Not here,” I responded illusively, tossing him his clothes. "Put these on, unless you feel like going back up to your room for some clean ones."

  Again he yawned. "Nope, these'll do, it's nice and warm out.” He slid his slender form into the pants first, then the shirt, as he forced himself to wake up. In a timid voice he asked, "So... Victoria's gone now?"

  "Don't call her that!” I snapped, and instantly regretted being so rough. "She's not your sister anymore man, I've told you, you need to stop thinking about her as Victoria!" He nodded meekly. "What should I call her?"

  Huh. This stumped the hell out of me. How the fuck should I know?

  "Um, I don't know, anything! You just can't think of her like that, okay dude?” As before, he nodded, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Now I just hoped we wouldn't run into her again, ever. At the same time I knew we would. Garrote wasn't a large city, and there were only so many places for zombies to hang out, you know? And besides, Victoria was a bit of a bitch. I knew she wanted both me and my lover either dead, or as zombies ourselves. Now there was a sickening thought... being a zombie?

  That made me want to hurl. That and kick Victoria's bitch ass back to the grave.

  As my thoughts began to run away with me I realized Andrew had been talking. "Huh?” I asked. "What was that?"

  "I was just asking," he repeated, "where exactly are we going to?"

  "Let's see," I thought out loud, both to answer his question and to get my thoughts straight in my own mind. "I got this chainsaw back home and it's really kickass against these things, tears 'em right the hell open, but it's out gas.” Out of gas... what a stupid concept! I mean, when Ash was sent back in time to the middle ages in the end of Dead By Dawn, did his chainsaw ever run out of gas? Of course not!

  "So I was just on my way to the gas station to refill it," I continued, "so I guess that's where we go now.” For a brief second I paused, as a new thought came to me. "You know... I bet I could use fireworks to scare the hell out of the zombies, and to blow them up too.” Andrew just gave me a confused look, and I realized he had no idea what the fuck I was talking about. "A friend of mine lives, well, used to live anyway, just a few blocks from here, and he was an incredible pyromaniac. If I can get my hands on his stash...” I let the thought hang.

  Andrew gave a small smile. "That sounds cool," he said, his voice as soft as ever. "But what if you see your friend there, and he's a zombi
e?" Rather than answer the question, I grabbed Andrew by the hand, and pulled him into a deep, long kiss. When we broke I said, "C'mon... let's get those fireworks."

  The rain hadn't let up at all through the night. I had known from the telltale patter I had heard on the roof as I sat guarding. But now it seemed to have stopped, or at least turned into a slight drizzle so I couldn't hear anymore. Sure enough, when Andrew and I reached the door and swung it open my suspicions were confirmed. The rain had slowed to a stop and the heat of the morning had covered the land with a thick blanket of fog. It had a very soothing effect, or at least it might have for someone else under different circumstances, but not me. "Crap.” I stated flatly, staring out into the mist. "How in God's name are we gonna find our way through this?” The question was obviously rhetorical, and Andrew made no reply. I sighed deeply and exaggeratedly. "Well, come on," I said, and set out on our way.

  For the first few minutes of our journey we walked in silence, with Andrew still half asleep and me lost in concentration, trying to peer through the mist in search of zombies to slice open. Yeah, it was true they didn't like to hang around during the day, but they were cool about fog. It worked the same way darkness did, covering them up and allowing them to sneak real close before attacking. That's the sort of things zombies liked. They were sneaky bastards, especially during the day. Even still, I didn't expect to see many between sunup and sundown, but it never hurt to stay vigilant.

  Soon enough, after we had walked maybe ten minutes or so, the paved road branched off into a dirt one. This was our turn... or was it? I peered down the gloomy path, as far down as I could see. Unlike the main road, this one led deep into the forest, and was not lined with houses. To take this path would be quicker, but it certainly wouldn't be easier. "Ok, babe, decision time," I said, turning to Andrew. "We can either take the main road, which is much, much longer, but relatively safe, or go down here and risk running into some ferals."