Hungry for Your Love: An Anthology of Zombie Romance

by Lori Perkins

  Something’s wrong. Can’t you hear that?” Todd’s beetle brow wrinkled in irritated confusion. His backup dancers simply snickered at such a pathetic attempt to escape their clutches.

  It was then I caught my first glimpse of the newcomers—the water polo team, fresh from the pool, dripping wet and reeking of chlorine. They wore only their swim caps, goggles, Speedos, and fresh bite marks, still torn and bleeding. Their mouths lolled and their hands were outstretched urgently, as if pleading for help. “Todd!” I screamed in his thick fat face. “Turn around, you moron! They’re right on us!” And he did—too late.

  His five henchmen went down instantly, suddenly shrieking in fear like little girls as their predators took them. Their screams were incredible, echoing horribly off the tile floor and walls. Todd let me go but before he could even turn to look, they were on us.

  Two big former aqua-jocks tackled him to the unyielding floor. He hit it hard, with a sickening crunch. The biggest of his assailants lunged down and took a huge bite out of the center of his face, then another, trying to dig its way with its teeth to his soft brains below. Then another zombie tackled me to the ground, too.

  He had me undead to rights, but my soapy and drenched buck-nekkid ass popped right out his grasp like a watermelon seed. I slid around like a fish on the slick wet tile floor, scrambling to get away while he clawed at my torso and legs, trying to reel me back towards his snapping jaws. Somehow my crazy flailing managed to give me just enough space to kick away from him and sail across the floor of the showers like I was cavorting on a slip-‘n-slide. I sprang to my feet and ran for it, hurdling right over one of Todd’s screaming, thrashing buddies and making a beeline for the exit. In hindsight, I think my would-be pursuer must have joined in on eating the fallen bully, but I sure as hell didn’t turn around to look—in two seconds flat I was out the door.

  I all but crashed into a squad of cheerleaders. They squealed “Omigod!” to each other in wide-eyed titillated shock and pointed at me as I skidded to a halt. As they cackled like perky were-hyenas, I was struck by déjà vu. I had been in this nightmare before, standing in nothing but my underwear at school with everyone staring and laughing at me. Naked, dripping wet, and chased by hungry zombies into a pack of tittering sex objects was a new wrinkle for me. But the Freudian analysis would have to wait. Even while I stood there catching my breath in a daze, screams started echoing down the halls. The cheerleaders looked around, startled, then the hordes came around the corner, pouring into the corridor from both ends. There were dozens of them, everyone from the cool and popular to the misfits and rejects: jocks and geeks, teachers, librarians and lunch ladies, band dorks and goths, bathroom smokers and Bible-toters, all horrific, bloodied, and corpse-eyed. They howled for our blood as they spotted us.

  My protective ring of cheerleaders screamed and clung to each other for dear life; a bad survival strategy, as it turned out. In no time the dead swarm shambled up and then the zombie tide crashed in from all sides. Blood-splattered pom-poms went flying. I did the only thing a wet, naked young person could do under the circumstances. I ran back into the locker room.

  Okay, granted, it wasn’t the most well thought-out plan, but I desperately hoped the water polo team would still be occupied with crunching into the twitching, gurgling, still whimpering remnants of Todd and the Toddettes. They were, but it didn’t help me any, since I immediately collided into massive Coach Murdock. His head hung at weird angle, since somebody had bitten off half his neck. The giant snatched me up like I was a burrito and tried to stuff me in his mouth. I screamed louder than the cheerleaders had and started to thrash crazily, trying to keep those huge chompers at bay.

  I squirmed and twisted in his arms, and got my leg up enough to stick it into his ragged neck. I straightened my leg as best I could, gritting my teeth as I strained against him. But Coach’s grip remained ironclad, and I could feel my fragile rib cage about to pop in his hands. I struggled just to breathe; anvil sparks from the hammering pain inside my skull flew around obscuring my vision, then with a awful, squishy, ripping sound, my foot went right through what was left of Coach’s neck. His head popped off and skittered bloodily across the floor somewhere. A full second later, his abandoned body and I came crashing down to the concrete.

  Owwww…I got to my feet, wobbling a little, and shook my head. My ears were ringing, but I knew I had to keep moving. Why zombies weren’t already crashing through the locker room door after me I had no idea, but that was fine by me. I guess the cheerleaders were ample distraction after all. I grabbed the key ring off Coach’s belt and sprinted pass the rows of lockers towards his office; in my peripheral vision the H2O

  zombie team was still busy with lunch, though a few were already stumbling around looking for more. Quickly I let myself into the equipment room, locked the door and ran over to the big window across the room where they dispensed the towels. I was staring a few of them in the face as I slammed down the metal roll-top curtain and latched it, too.

  Leaning against it, I slowly slid down to the floor, let out a long sigh and sat there a few moments, catching my breath and trying to process the events of the last two and a half minutes. Clearly, the Zombie Apocalypse was here. I felt strangely calm and accepting of this turn of events. The problem with most zombie movies is that the people in them have apparently never seen a zombie movie. But I, my friends, am a geek and proud, and I’ve seen more than my fair share of zombie flicks. High school was a nightmare, but this? This, I could deal with.

  First, I needed to get dressed, for God’s sake. I seriously doubted I could sneak to my locker and get it open without turning into a chew toy, but there were loaner gym shorts and Tshirts. I snatched some and slipped into them. I started to dry my hair—at least there were plenty of gym towels—when I heard the front door slam open and someone very much alive hightailing it through the locker room, screaming at the top of their lungs. Again, I know it was stupid, but I made a snap decision, unlocked the door and flung it open. Oh, so that’s where the undead horde is, pouring into the building now.

  As the screaming sprinter ran up I grabbed her and yanked her in, slamming the door in the faces of the two zombies right on her tail. One just managed to get a hand in; I crushed his fingers and when he pulled back I shut the door and locked it tight. They hissed and clawed and pounded to get in. So much for sneaking out later. I turned to my fellow escapee. “Hey, Dee Dee.”

  Damn, she was even sexier than her usual perfection, just sitting there against the wall heaving for breath, glistening with beads of sweat, her eyes wide with fear, her cute little cheerleading outfit torn in just the right places.

  “J—Jerry?”

  “Yeah. Take it easy, you’re okay now.”

  “All those people—they were so horrible…Are they dead?”

  “Yeah, I think so. Except for the, you know, walking around and eating you, yeah.”

  She grabbed my arm. “Jerry, they were just attacking us. I think they were trying to bite us. They grabbed Suzie and Tiffany, and just started biting them everywhere. All the blood…” Her voice trailed off, and I gently pulled my arm loose.

  “I know, Dee Dee. They’re zombies. That’s what they do. Hey, you’ve got to listen to me now. We’ve got to find whatever we can in here and then we need to get out of here.” They were beating and scratching on the door with no let-up. I was confident the door would hold up a while, but I wasn’t so optimistic if they started banging on the towel window’s less-impressive metal curtain. Time to take inventory. One big laundry bin with plenty of dirty towels. Significantly fewer clean ones. I started opening the cabinets.

  “Jerry, do you think the girls on the squad are all dead too? Should we go out there and help them?”

  “Yeah, no, I’m pretty sure that’s a real bad idea. I’m kinda amazed you’re not dead, to be honest with you.” Aluminum baseball bats, hmm, a little light. Lacrosse sticks? Not really with those damn little nets. Discus and shotputs? Tempting but no.<
br />
  Javelin…maybe.

  “Is everybody dead?” She stood up and hugged herself anxiously, looking around at the gloomy institutional florescent lighting, the grimly claustrophobic walls.

  Basketballs, volleyballs, dodge balls, softballs, bases, track batons, frisbees.

  Worthless crap, all of it. Where were all the football helmets? I inspected a catcher’s mask with throat guard. That might work—damn, doesn’t fit at all. “I don’t know how widespread this is, but I think it’s a safe bet that just about everybody here at school is a goner, or already one of them.” I thought a moment. “Actually, I’m pretty sure it didn’t start here on campus. I expect the whole city is affected. We may be the only survivors for a hundred miles.”

  She turned and looked at me, bent over in shock and arms out in a pleading gesture. “My God, McGowan, how can you just say that? How are you not freaking out?

  What kind of robot are you?”

  Decent question, actually. The truth was that I was just in denial, keeping focused so we could get through the task at hand. I had no doubt I’d be blubbering like a baby later, but for now I just wanted to keep it together long enough to stay alive. Somewhere deep inside I was very aware that everyone I knew and loved was either dead already or shortly about to be horribly killed. My general antisocial pariah status insulated me somewhat.

  “Look, Dee Dee. I’m just as upset as you are. But we’ve got to be strong now, see? We’ve got to stay sharp so that we can get out of this alive.” I managed to keep my voice firm and tough. Badminton racquets? God, these things are ridiculous! I wondered where the groundskeeper shed was—that place must be chock full of machetes and pruning hooks and those sticks with the nail sticking out for spearing litter. God, one of those would be perfect.

  “You’re really brave, Jerry. You’ll protect me, won’t you?”

  I nodded absently, hefting a swim trophy and approving the sharp edges of its heavy square marble base. Okay, that will bash a skull in nicely, I thought.

  “I just wanted to say—I just wanted to say sorry for—for what happened in class today.”

  Yeah, yeah, I still hadn’t forgotten about that funny little pantywaist dorkwad crack, beeyotch. Jump ropes? Jump ropes…must be something we can do with all these damn jump ropes…

  “Jerry? You saved my life, you know?” Whatever. Hey, the lost-and-found box: padlock, padlock, padlock. Math textbook. Hey, these shoes might fit me. I held one up to my foot. Rock on.

  “Jerry?”

  Something in the soft way she said my name that time caught my attention. I looked over at her. She was completely nude, standing in the pile of her clothes like a statue of Venus, one arm draped gracefully across her chest, the other daintily covering her loins. “I just want to make it up to you.” She gently outstretched her hands to me.

  I forgive you, I thought.

  I turned in a daze, hypnotized by those perfect breasts, those radiant, imploring eyes, those long, beautiful legs. She cocked her head to the side and smiled invitingly.

  My heart began beating stronger than it had when I thought I was about to be raped in the showers or devoured by undead swim jocks. At that moment it didn’t matter where we were or how many dead things just a few feet away were going nuts trying to break in and gobble up our nubile young flesh. I dropped the shoes and approached her with reverence. When we were just a step away from each other, I reached out and gingerly interlocked my fingers with hers, and let her pull me closer. All I could see was those bright eyes, those gorgeous, glistening lips, the nape of her— holy crap! What is that on her neck?

  I flinched and jerked back. “What the hell? Dee Dee, did you get bitten?” She shot her hand up to her neck and covered the dark wet spot. “What? No! It’s nothing.

  What’s your problem, McGowan?” She wrapped her other arm around her breasts.

  I tried to grab her arm. “Dee Dee, this is serious. Let me look at that bite now!”

  “No! Fuck off!” she yelled, twisting away. “I said it’s nothing! It’s just a hickey.”

  “Then just let me look—”

  “I said no! And you can forget about any sex, you asshole!” She knelt and snatched at her clothes. “Turn around so I can get dressed!”

  “What? You’re already naked. What more am I going to see?”

  “JUST DO IT!”

  “All right, all right….” I backed off and reluctantly turned, taking one last wistful glance at her fantastic ass just as she hitched up her panties.

  “Turn around, you little creep!”

  I left her in peace and returned to my search of the room. The tension in the air hung like psychic smog—palpable, oppressive and inescapable. She sat glowering in the corner with her arms clasping her legs, squint-eyed and sullen. I said nothing either, but inside, my mind furiously weighed hard options. For all intents and purposes, I was trapped in a cramped submarine with a time bomb. If she was bitten, then there was no option: I would have to kill her, either now…or when she turned. I had no choice—it was just a question of when, and I had no idea how much time I had left. I needed to watch her.

  I went back to work, keeping half an eye on her while I searched. When I finally exhausted the room’s contents, I reviewed my haul and outfitted myself in a sweatshirt, what I assumed was a set of lacrosse chest and shoulder protectors, along with some elbow guards, and a pair of baseball catcher’s shin guards with built in knee protectors. I armed myself with a javelin, the chunky swim trophy, and perhaps deadliest of all, a screwdriver. I didn’t know if any of this would be enough to carry me safely out that door, but before I ironed out the bugs in the exit strategy, I would have to deal with the more pressing Dee Dee problem.

  In the meantime, she had taken the stock of clean towels and made a bed of sorts for herself. She lay down and curled up with her back to me, facing the wall, where she quietly sobbed and trembled, and eventually fell asleep to the sounds of zombies clawing the walls. For an hour I watched her, glumly and suspiciously. I knew the rules. I had to kill her. She was the most beautiful girl I had ever known, and hell, maybe the last female left on the whole planet. But I had to kill her.

  For what felt like hours, I repeated my mantra and maintained my vigil. I nodded off at one point, waking with a start who knows how long later. I looked over at the body in the corner. She didn’t seem to be moving. Or breathing. I stared at her, transfixed. A minute passed. Looked like it was go time. Swallowing hard, my hands sweaty, I reached over and carefully, silently lifted the trophy. I stood up slowly, and crossed the narrow room with cautious steps until I stood over her. She looked so innocent and lovely, as still as an oil painting. I could see just the barest trace of the injury on the nape of her neck. If I could just pull back her collar a little, I could know for sure.

  She was as motionless as stone. I crouched down, half unaware of my own hand creeping towards her throat until I barely touched…She twitched, and I jerked my hand back like she was a white-hot poker. She began to make an eerie rattling deep in her throat. Startled, I took a step back and raised the inverted trophy like a club. Kill her. Kill her now. I took a deep, ragged breath. I tightened my grip, then grabbed it in both hands over my head. One…two…three.

  This time for sure. One…two…two and a half… I was shaking. Her freaky throat noise stopped, and she was still again. I continued to stare at her, sweat trickling down my forehead. Then I lowered the trophy and backed away, retreating to sit down with my back to the wall on the other side of the room. I dropped my would-be homicidal blunt instrument and let my head rest on my knees as I clasped my legs and rocked back and forth, mentally and emotionally exhausted, eyes closed tight and teary. I was out of ideas, faced with some very grim realities, and all of my options had serious drawbacks. I finally sighed and raised my head, banging it against the wall repeatedly. I opened my eyes again, staring up.

  It was just above me. I looked at it in disbelief for a few seconds, then jumped up and pulled out my
screwdriver. It was on the ceiling above me, and I realized I could probably reach it with the screwdriver if I climbed onto the counter. Yes, it was an air duct, and if I could get it open in time then it could be my ticket out of here and I wouldn’t even have to kill Dee Dee. After all, I reasoned, a zombie didn’t have the brainpower to crawl up an air duct and follow me, right? I looked over at her. Nothing. I put the javelin and trophy on the counter next to me, and climbed up. I could just reach the bolts with the screwdriver. I leaned out as far as I dared, and set to work on the grate.

  I removed it without too much trouble and set it on the counter. I took the javelin, the trophy, and a baseball bat for good luck, stuffed them awkwardly into a heavy canvas equipment bag, and shoved the whole bundle up into the air duct. Before I squeezed in there, I paused and looked over at Dee Dee once more. She was still immobile, still beautiful, even with her back to me. Surely no one so lovely could be about to turn zombie on me. I just had to check on her one last time.

  I crawled down again, and bent down near her. “Dee Dee?” I whispered gently. If she heard me, she didn’t react at all. “Look, I’m sorry about before. It’s just been a tough day, you know? I just wanted to say thanks for, well, you know, making the um, offer.”

  Still no response; her eyes remained closed. “Okay, look, I don’t know if you can hear me or not, but, well, I’m going to, um, you know, go check out the surroundings, reconnoiter, scout it out.” Still no signs of life. “Okay then. Well, I’ll be back in maybe an hour or so,” I lied, “so…so I guess I’ll see you then. Bye. Bye, Dee Dee.” I wanted to touch her so badly. I reached down to stroke her hair. She growled. Crap!

  I backpedaled across the whole room in a crazy crabwalk, jumped on the counter and scrambled up into the opening. There was an awful minute of total vulnerability as I tried to lift myself up, my dangling legs kicking in the air like crazy, thinking the whole time that Zombie Dee Dee would saunter up and start leisurely gnawing on them. But then I made it all the way up and in, and away I went. Goodbye, Dee Dee.