by J. D. Bishop
Fast Walkers
Outbreak
J. D. Bishop
Edited by
Valorie Clifton
Illustrated by
Mayhem Cover Creations
Contents
Fast Walkers
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Copyright © 2017 by J. D. Bishop
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or 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.
Fast Walkers
Rebecca's father works for a shadowy arm of the United States Government. He stays gone for weeks at a time and often comes home late.
But Rebecca's never had a reason to question his line of work... until one fateful night. Riding with a group of friends, she gets into a car accident that results in a man's death.
What follows next is a group of mysterious events that leaves Rebecca and her friends with more questions than answers. People are coming back to life, eating human flesh, even dining on their own family members.
Rebecca and her friends are determined to get to the bottom of what's going on.... but they'll have survive the horde of undead first!
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Chapter 1
It was a quiet, peaceful, cold December night when the car came screeching around the corner, music blaring as loud as it could go. Inside were five rowdy teenagers intent on finding something to do to raise hell in New Orleans.
A ghostly moon hung overhead, partially concealed by dark clouds. It was perfect hellraising weather, the sort of night that Anne Rice fans associated with names like Louis and Lestat. Inside the car, the teens were having a typical teenage party, drinking and smoking pot.
"Pass the fucking joint!" somebody yelled loud enough to be heard outside, while inside, Jeff just groaned again as his body thumped along to the music.
It was hard to tell who was talking. With the music playing so loudly, everyone had to scream over the thumping bass and screeching treble, everything jacked so loudly you couldn’t even make out the lyrics in the music. Jeff was getting a headache from the music blasting into his ears from his seat in the back of the red Kia Rondo. He usually got high with the best of them, but tonight, he just wasn't in the mood. He had a strange gut feeling.
He felt a hand go up his thigh, seeking treasure. He turned to his left and looked into the bloodshot eyes of Rebecca Mitchell. Becky was a friend with benefits to Jeff. They’d been that way on the down-low for a few months now. They got busy every time Becky's boyfriend neglected her, which seemed quite often lately. That or maybe she just loved the way Jeff laid the pipe.
Jeff liked to think it was the latter.
“Not now,” he mouthed, gently brushing away her hand, hoping she got the hint.
Thrill was Becky's middle name, and there wasn't a chance in hell that she would turn down an opportunity for some playful fun. She loved forbidden pleasures, and she probably wanted to get him off with a rub job while her boyfriend, Greg, who was the one driving, had no clue.
The risk of getting caught was all the reward Becky needed.
Becky gave him a sad pout with plump, juicy lips that had pleasured him on many nights when apparently, Greg wasn’t getting the job done. She was disappointed, but that was too bad. Jeff wasn't about to get in a fight with one of the most popular jocks in school and get abandoned on the side of the road in the cold all because Becky wanted a little fun. He wasn't that stupid. Besides, he doubted he could even come with all the commotion going on.
They were taking a joy ride through the neighborhood. The group had originally voted for egging houses earlier, but many didn't want to be bothered with the cold, so they had settled for driving through neighborhoods with the sound as loud as it could go to disturb the peace for their kicks.
Jeff was already wanting to go back home. He didn't know what he'd been thinking when he agreed to go. He had probably been thinking about getting a nice blowjob from Becky at the end of the night and maybe to feel her ride him with that amazing body of hers, but it was something he no longer wanted. He didn't know what the fuck was wrong. Almost any other time Becky wanted his cock, he was more than willing to make her scream.
The car swerved violently as Greg turned off the residential street, not braking until the last second and making the tires squeal as they fought for grip on the blacktop. Everyone was thrown to the side, and Jeff narrowly avoided banging his head into Becky's which would have only succeeded in turning his headache up a couple of notches. The sharp turn had put his head in line with Becky's perky breasts, which Jeff noticed were well supported in Becky’s favorite, a Very Sexy bra from Victoria’s Secret that he’d secretly given her for her birthday about a month after they’d started hooking up.
He quickly pulled back, not wanting her to get the wrong idea. He’d motorboated those puppies quite a few times, but this wasn’t the time.
Jeff had no clue where they were heading. They were now out of the housing area and on a business street, passing store after store while the music blared. There were very few cars out as they flew down the streets, which Jeff idly thought was probably a lucky thing. Greg even ran a red light when egged on by the other drunken teens. Jeff was starting to get more agitated by the minute, shifting around in his seat as a creeping feeling came crawling up his spine.
Jeff felt a tap on his shoulder. Becky was trying to ask him something, but the loud music drowned her out. After several attempts, she leaned into him, pressing her nice breasts up against his arm, and yelled into his ear. Even drunk and half-stoned, Jeff noticed that she had a clear-ish voice.
“What's wrong?” she asked, her bloodshot eyes searching his face. “You worried about Greg?”
“No, I just don't feel good,” he yelled back, lying but not wanting to cause shit.
She gave another pout similar to the duck face facial expression that was all the rage of young girls on Facebook and elsewhere on the Internet. Jeff hated the look himself, and he wished the girls would realize how fucking retarded they looked. It screamed 'look at me! I'm an attention whore!'
“Do you want me to tell Greg to turn back and take you home?”
Jeff definitely wanted to go back. He just wasn't sure if he wanted everyone to know he was the one killing the party. They all seemed to be having so much fun. Wesley was turning up a high-quality forty in the front passenger seat, and Christy, in the back with Becky and Jeff, was taking a prolonged drag of the weed that was being passed around.
He shook his head, not wanting to try and yell over the music and cause his headache to get worse. If he just kept his nose near the window, maybe he’d be able to get through this.
Becky, either mistaking his meaning or just wanting to cause drama—most likely the latter—leaned forward and tapped Greg on the shoulder. Greg glanced back at Becky and lowered the sound of th
e music, but not low enough for it to stop the throbbing pounding in Jeff's head.
“’Sup, babe?” Greg asked loudly. “You guys want some of the forty?”
“Jeff wants to go home,” Becky told him, looking at the accused.
Greg looked into the rearview mirror at him. “Jeff?”
Jeff gave Becky a look that said 'you're going to get it'. She gave him a half-smirk. She knew exactly what she was doing and knew that the next time he did fuck her, he was going to pound her all the harder because of this. He was miffed that she even brought it up, but she loved to start mess between him and Greg. Jeff liked to think she would wet her panties if one day she managed to get the two into a fight. There probably wasn't a greater aphrodisiac for Becky than two good looking guys fighting over her. She’d probably be willing to fuck whoever won the fight two minutes after it was over.
Pushing thoughts of a bent-over Becky aside, Jeff focused on the moment. Knowing that he would get a lot of shit for admitting he wanted to go back home, Jeff shook his head. “I just have a small headache, that's all. If we could just stop at a gas station so I can get an Advil—”
“Aw man, you just need to take a toke of that good ole' ganja, man, and you'll be all right,” Wesley said from the front as he chugged down his alcohol. “It’s like, good for cancer and shit.”
“Just stop and let him get a pain reliever,” Becky ordered Greg as if Jeff had asked her to speak for him. She had that tendency at the oddest times, to just take over and act like she was the boss, which was weird because most of the rest of the time, she was happy to be an arm candy party girl.
Greg continued to look at Jeff in the rearview mirror, slowing his speed. “Is that what you want, Jeff?”
Greg had a faux look of concern on his face when Jeff knew damn well that he didn't care one bit about whether his head felt like it was going to explode or not. He just knew it would make Jeff look bad in front of the others. Jeff, being a fellow jock, did not like looking weak.
Jeff was irritated by Becky's patronizing but thought it would do no good to say anything to her about it. He was, after all, in the car with a friend's girlfriend he was fucking, and he wasn't in the mood to get into a fight that might cause some secrets to slip out just because his pride was ruffled.
Of course, Greg should have known it too, not the fucking part but the pride part. It was part of the Bro Code, after all, and Greg letting Becky talk for him made him look like a punk bitch. But oh, no, not Greg. Greg didn’t care as long as Becky was on his arm, even if she was getting it from Jeff on a weekly basis. As long as he had Becky, Greg could disregard Bro Code all he wanted.
Jeff wanted to just say no, but with how bad his headache had gotten, he was going to be in tears soon if he didn't get something for it. He grudgingly nodded.
“It’s not that bad, but yeah, I could use some. Besides, all that weed smoke is making me hungry,” he lied. “I got the munchies.”
“All right, man,” Greg said, “Here, I'll even turn the music down for you.” Greg turned the music down to barely above a whisper, looking back with a smug look that said ‘hey, I’m being nice to the baby.’ Jeff’s headache went up another notch, as he just knew that Greg wouldn’t forget this.
“Aw, come on,” Wesley complained, reaching for the dial, high enough that he wasn’t really getting what was going on. “I love that song.”
Greg swatted Wesley's hand away, his voice so full of fake concern that Jeff wanted to punch his seat. “Chill, bro. The man said he had a headache.”
“I don't mind it that much,” Jeff lied again, trying to salvage what little he could of his pride at the moment.
“See?” Wes said, not even looking back as he turned the radio back up. “Jeff’s cool. He doesn't give a shit.”
Once the music was back up to eardrum bursting levels of loudness, Wesley began banging his head back and forth, shaking the whole car as his skinny body rocked to the beat. The pounding in Jeff's head almost became unbearable as they pulled into an empty, no-name gas station parking lot. Greg pulled in and turned down the music a little again, but it was still loud enough that Wes didn’t bitch this time.
“Does anyone want anything?” Jeff asked loudly as he paused while getting out. He didn’t want to pause, but his head was pounding so hard he wasn’t sure that he could walk straight at the moment. He was still trying to suck enough clean air into his lungs to offset the Maryjane filling the car.
“Get me some vodka, if they have it,” Wesley yelled over the music from the front seat. He looked like he struggled for a name for a moment before just waving his hand. “Whatever they’ve got.”
The chances of that were slim, Jeff thought as he turned away from the car. They were all under twenty-one and he didn't have his fake ID on him. He wasn't sure if he felt like getting into it with the store clerk if he asked for his identification, and he sure as hell knew he didn’t want to get into it with the cops.
“I'm coming with you,” Becky chirped, scrambling to get out of the seat and exposing quite a bit of thigh, her skirt rising up her smooth legs. She always wore short skirts when they went out. She knew she had killer legs, but tonight’s was even more daring than normal.
“I've got to pee,” Christy added as she got out on her side. She wasn’t wearing a skirt but jeans, sort of tomboyish, but she filled them out well in her own way.
Jeff held back a sigh. The last thing he wanted was Becky following him through the store and getting all touchy-feely with Greg around. He got the rest of the way out of the car, grateful to be away from the pounding music, and walked quickly toward the convenience store doors with Becky and Christy trailing behind him.
As soon as Jeff went inside, he felt his inner alarm bells going off. Things were just wrong. It was quiet inside the store. There wasn’t a single human sound around at all. A TV mounted above the clerk's counter was playing some sort of chick flick, and there was a hum from the freezer section, but that was it. The clerk was nowhere in sight. Jeff went straight to the medicine section and began looking at all of his options. Maybe his alarm bells were ringing, but the headache was even worse, and he needed something now. Besides, there was no way he was gonna go pussy by being freaked out by an empty store.
The medicine area was shit. He really wished Greg had found someplace decent to pull over. He looked over his few options before he decided on an extra-strength Excedrin rather than Advil. Excedrin seemed to always knock out his headaches, no matter how bad they were.
Jeff looked up at the sound of the convenience store's bell ringing, startling in the creepy quiet, as the two girls entered the store. Becky was of average height with a killer body, long and leggy with nice tits that Jeff normally loved to suck until she called out his name. On the other hand, Christy was tall, broad-shouldered but still tight-bodied, with big tits that were easily the biggest in school that didn’t belong to a fat girl. She reminded Jeff of an Amazon woman, like Xena: The Warrior Princess. She wasn’t Jeff’s type, but he could see her appeal. She was always brought along on their little trips because Wesley liked tall girls, though she didn't give Wes the time of day. She wanted a real tough guy, something Wes was not. Jeff thought she had a secret crush on Greg, and that's why she always agreed to come along. In some ways, Jeff felt bad for Christy because he knew Greg totally didn’t vibe on her.
“Where's the damn bathroom in here?” Christy asked, her voice sounding loud in the quiet store. She looked around, and Jeff could see she was a little put off too, even with the weed in her system.
“Probably in the back somewhere?” Becky suggested helpfully.
“You're probably right,” she agreed, heading toward the back.
Jeff went down the aisles—hoping Becky didn't approach him—looking for vodka, but he didn't see any. He looked closer, then saw that the vodka spot was empty, right between the gin and the tequila. Fuck it. Knowing that he had to get something to eat so his lie wouldn't seem so obvious, he started looking
through the junk food aisle.
Becky approached him while he was grabbing a big bag of pizza flavored Doritos and a bunch of Twinkies. He knew the others would be hungry after smoking so much weed so they would eat it. He really had no stomach for food at the moment, but junk food was total munchie food.
“Hey, what's wrong with you?” Becky asked, circling her arms around his hard, trim waist from behind and squeezing. Now that they were out of the car and the weed smell wasn't dominating his air space, Jeff could smell her perfume, and while it normally made his cock stand up and say hi, now it only made him feel nauseous. “You never turn me down like that. What gives?”
The horny part of him could feel her nipples pressing into his back, and that part of him was asking the rest of him what the fuck was wrong. He just wasn't feeling any spark of lust like he usually did, no matter how hot Becky was. He just felt awful.
“Babe, please stop. Greg's right outside. I don’t want to cause shit tonight, that’s all. It’s his car, after all,” he told her as gently as he could, knowing Becky's temper. He gently removed her hands from around his waist, turning to confront her.
“So? When has that stopped you before? You've fingered me at least a dozen times when he's been nearby. What the hell is it? Are you fucking some bitch?” she hissed, digging a thumb painfully into his side and making Jeff squirm out of the way and resist the urge to shove her away.
What the fuck? Becky had a lot of nerve asking Jeff that when she had a boyfriend. She probably really believed that, despite her having a boyfriend, Jeff should remain faithful to her. Her boy toy whenever she needed it. Her jealousy was a pathetic thing to witness.
“No. I'm not lying when I said I don't feel good. My head feels like it's about to split open, though I don't expect you to care. Thanks for making me look like a bitch in front of Greg and Wes, by the way.” He regretted the words the instant they left his mouth.
