Love in the time of Zombies

 

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Beginnings

Chelsea was just reflecting that every bit of advice she had been given about having a bad day had been fatally flawed.  “It can always be worse” doesn’t hold much hope when you are sitting in the locked cab of a locomotive watching the undead swarm around.  She sighed.  “I guess it really could be worse” she said to her companion, Rocco.  It was obvious from his tense muscles and the tail hugging his belly that the mongrel dog was not sharing her opinion.

The big yellow locomotive was rumbling reassuring under her feet as four thousand plus horsepower motor idled waiting for her command.  Chelsea applied the heel of her hand to the yellow button on the console again and her miserable companion howled along with the locomotive’s horn.

“Looks like it is working,” the woman reflected, watching the reanimated corpses gather.  They were dragging out from around corners and out of the drainage ditches.  “Good thing you can’t see them.”

Rocco just rolled his eyes up to her in an expression of abject dismay, and lowered his belly to the floor.  Apparently he still knew that the ghouls still outside and more were gathering around the massive machine.  Chelsea wondered how he could tell over the noise and smell in the cab, but it did not matter.  The doors were locked, but she was pretty sure that the ladders up were too steep for the walking dead to scale.  Hell, it almost was too much for her to get up, especially while pushing the unwilling Rocco up ahead of her.

Chelsea sat on the floor, put her back to the firewall at the rear of the cab, rested her head against the warm vibrating metal, and closed her eyes.  Any humans out there would hear the rumbling and the whistle as well, and sometimes the living were more trouble than the dead.  At least she had a pretty good idea of a way to deal with the latter.  First, she might as well invite more to the party.

Something cool and damp touched her face, and she opened her eyes to be face to face with her companion.  He was regarding her with what appeared to be canine concern.  Hard to tell though, as he was a dog.  A hand mussed the fur on his chest, and the dog appeared to relax slightly.  The woman wasn’t sure what to think of her new friend.  He had joined her only three days previous, a thin creature of non- distinct origins and wirey brown hair.  He had a face that resembled the square jaw of a terrier, but he was rather tall and shaggy.  Possibly some Airedale in the mix.  The dog pressed its head into the woman’s chest, and she held him tight while vigoursly rubbing the backs of his ears.  “I guess you are not a fan of my plan, but I appreciate your faith in me.”

The croaking voice sounded strange in Chealse’s ears.  How long since she had anyone to speak with?  The last group of survivors had imploded about a month previous.  Too much drama, too many cooks in the kitchen.  Too many drama queens.  The band of twenty survivers were under the direction of three men who clained to be ex-military.  After one particularly nasty blow up from the “leaders”, the group had disintergrated into a tense hotbed of stress and intreague.  Wanting to avoid the drama and the pressure to choose sides, Chealse had grabbed her hunting gear for a two day trek and set off before noon to try and aquire provisions.  Thankfully, while the smell of death tended to scare the game off, the walking cadavers did not seem to have any intrest in the flesh of animals.  People appeared to be the only game that the walking dead desired.  When the sounds of gunfire rolled over the hills that night Chelsea was too far away to be of any assistance.  She felt sick as she hid in the tree stand thoughtfull left behind by some local hunter before the country fell.  There was nothing she could do.  It was sucidie to try and travel at night, and besides, what would one more person do other then die with everyone else?  It was better to just keep to her usual plan of sleeping off the ground at night.  Not a bad plan, but hard to keep up with now that she had a new companion.

Chelesa snapped herself from the daydream, and stood up to survey the situation.  The two engine consist was surround by the zombies, in some places several deep.  The woman smiled and knocked back the airbrake handle to allow the one hundred and fifty foot battering ram to start to roll free.  She slid opened the window and leaned out to see in front of the cattlecatcher.  She could not see directly in front of course, but this was good enough.  At the sight of her a moan went up in the crowd, and Chealse gave the mob of reaching hands and rotting flesh the finger.  “Lets see how you deal with this!”  With that, she put the locomotive into forward and throttled up.

The familiar rumble of the engine felt good to Chelsea, even though the crunch against the metal plow in the front was sickening.  Before the collapse she had been a locomotive engineer for a class one railroad.  She had been proud to tell people that she was an engineer, even if she was not the smart kind that built things.  Back then, you blew the whistle to warn people away from the tracks, not to lure them nearer.  She opened the throttle wider, launching her guided missel up the rail.  She had walked the track yesterday, knew there was no derail or track damage to stop her progress.  The only concern now was wether the stack of bodies would cause problems.  More speed would probably help.

The trick was how to get away from the locomotive after making such an effort to attract the wrong kind of attention.  Cheasle had a plan though.  She had been working on this idea for several days before putting it into effect.  On one hand, the entire idea was dumb.  Who cares if you mow down legions of the undead, society was still unlikely to rebuild.  But she had some hope that things might improve with time, and for that to happen there would need to be less of the footloose gouls wandering around and causing trouble.  Besides, she was lonely and bored.  Hence the plan that had been forming ever since she saw that massive diesel engine and it’s treasure trove of cars.  The only problem with this awesome plan was the dismount.  Sure, she had thought to use two locomotives so she could plow through in either direction, but where the engines met there would be clean ladders to excape down.  But, how does one excape ghouls attracted to sound if you are in the only noisy thing for miles?  Her plan had been to zip ahead of the pack, kill the motor, set the airbrakes and run.  However, without the engine being secured by a hand secured brake it was libel to roll free in only a couple hourse.  Not really a problem, unless she wanted to do this again.  Also, as she and Rocco made their way to cover they would have to scramble around those ghouls that were coming to investigate the sound, no matter how far she went.  Troublesome, but not the end of the world.

 

After a quarter mile, Chelease brought the locomotives to a stop and went onto the catwalk.  The carnage spread out behind her along the rails.  She smiled.  “Oh Brian, where are you?  I hope that somewhere in Arizona is a smear of bodies like this from you.”  Sitting alone in a dark siding in the desert one October night, she and her conductor had passed the time while debating the mertis of zombie hunting with a locomotive.  Silly, idle chatter, but it gave her something to do now.  Returning to the cab, the woman put the locomotive in reverse and backed up towards the boxcars that she had left behind.  Being careful to not connect back to the cars and therefore trap herself into place, she chopped through more of the fumbling walkers.  More came to avenge their fallen brothers in death, in the same way that more mosquetos appear to arrive after one of their own has been swatted.  The woman at the controls of the yellow locomotive happily indulged their need to avenge the deaths of their comrads, and sliced through the crowd again.  Rocco, apparenrty finding comfort in his companion’s glee, crept warily to the catwalk of the engine and peered out and the moaning masses.  Hackles raised, he growled softly to himself as the locomotive rocked along the tracks.  “What the hell are you bitching about,” the girl asked, “They do not want to mess with your kind.  I’m the one they want to eat.”  The non- descript canine gave a wag of the tail at her voice, but did not let his focus shift from what was going on outside.  “I appreciate you having my back though.  What do you say we pull this thing up clear and go call it a night?”

Another thump sounded against the front of the engine.  It was an oddly hollow sound, like a ripe gourd hitting the ground.  It made her stomach knot up to hear, but that was why she had decided to not waste any foot this morning by eating.  No sense risking throwing it all up.  “Ring Ring Ring goes the trolly, ding ding ding goes the bell!”, she sang the Judy Garland song with gusto to keep her spirits up.  It was hard to overcome ten years of training that you DID NOT want to run over people or animals.  Just one more change in this new messed- up existence.  Another bang off the side.  Wait, was something being thrown at her?

Chealse looked around.  Since when do the zombie bastards use tools?  Then she saw them in the corner.  Two men in the second floor window of an apartment complex.  Or was it a business?  Chelsea snapped herself into a more alert mindset.  What were they after?

She stopped the engine and looked over at the men.  One held up what looked like a rock, the other was waving emphatically to her in the universal sigh of ‘come- here’.  Chelsea rooted through her backpack to find the binanculers.  It involved dumping the contents onto the floor and unwraping the precious commodity from a dirty tshirt that advertised a bar she had never heard of in a town that she had never heard of.  Prize in hand she turned back to the window.

“Do not even think about it” she told the dog, whom had come back in from the catwalk and was stiffing the contents.  “We are rationing until I can get us somewhere that there is hunting.”

Her companion fixed her with what she took to be a scowl, and flopped onto the floor with a sigh.  She turned back to the window and propped her elbows on the sill.  There were the guys, and they had a piece of wood with chalk writing.

“How do you plan on getting out?”  Smug bastards.  Chelease stepped out the door behind her and facing the building with her two corresponders, pantomimed a huge shrug.  The zombies, whipped into a frenzy by the sight of the prey they so desired, moaned with gusto and reached their hands up to her feet.  In disgust she stombed the fingers and hands of those who were trying to pull themselves up.  It was not a threat that she was concerned of, just a futile gesture to make her feel better.  Several of the monsters found the latter to the rear and were starting to pull themselves onto the machine. She gave her best attempt at a ‘wait one minute’ gesture and dashed back into the cab of the locomotive, carefully closing and locking the door behind her and then checking the securement.  For good luck she went to the front door and checked that too.  Finding it securely fastned, Chelease returned to her drivers seat and reved the motors amperage, then released the steel leviathion east along the tracks.  At the end of the crowd, she rapidly applied the brakes in an attempt to dislodge any unseen riders.  She then repeated the process in the opposite direction so that she was again able to see the men in the window.  They had another sign.

‘Shut it down if you can.  We will provide a distraction and you can run.’

Best offer I have had all day, Chelsea mused.  She dashed out the back door to the hand brake and slammed her thumb into the button marked apply.  Then she dashed back to the safety of her cab and again secured the door.  The engine was easy to shut down, it only required a button to be pressed.  She did this, and as the engine sounds dies away Chelsea went through the process of ensuring all the lights were turned off and the electricy was killed.  These newer engines were like Cadaliacs compared to the older, smaller ones but they were troublesome if not started and shut down correctly.  Also, they were almost impossible to fake through the start process if the battery died.  Jumper cables could be used on most of the older models, but the newer machines had to be taken into the round house for work when their batteries gave out.  That was no longer an option.  Chelsea finished the power-down procedure and then repacked her bag and secured the sleeping bag to the side.  Her earlier though had been to sleep here until the ghouls lost intrest, might as well take the out while it was there.  The excape path that she had picked earlier was still clear looking, but Rocco would most likely be dashing in the lead and would alert to any problems.  There are some serious bonuses to having a dog, she though.  “But you are going to be a serious bitch to lift down off this thing.”  Rocco wagged his tail in response.  “Glad you think it is funny.”

 She heard a bang outside and hit the deck.  Realizing that it was most likely the promised distraction she peered over the sill in the direction of the sound.  It appeared that the  two men were hurling Molotov cocktails from their window and into the crowd gathered below.  Funereal pyres lept into life along the right of way by the tracks as the dry dessicated flesh of the walking dead fed the flames.

“Nice distraction” Chelsea thought, and kept down to avoid attracting attention while the ghouls dragged themselves away.  “I hope that they don’t end up torching the locomotives while they burn themselves out.  I was hoping to do this again.”  The dog flashed her a dubious look.  “I know, you have a point.  Burnt zombies or crushed Zombies, either pay they will not be a problem for us to worry about.”  Rocco thumped his tail in agreement.

“I need to go spend some time with humans.  I converse with you way more than is probably healthy for a woman my age.  Although I must admit that you are pretty adept at holing your own in a conversation.”

The dog wagged his tail again, and Chelsea decided that she had wasted enough time.  Checking the windows to determine if the coast was clear, she climbed down the short flight of three stairs to the front door of the locomotive.  Pressing her ear to the door resulted in to sounds of life (such as it was) on the other side.  She secured the football helmet to her head, her thought being that the linebacker grill in the front would protect her face from bites, and pulled the heavy welding gloves over he hands to protect her digits and forearms.  Those were the areas most likely to be attacked, and she had not yet found a sturdy enough garment to protect her torso.  Thankfully the dog attracted to desire from the monsters, as the only protection that she had for him was a hiking backpack to enable him to carry his own water and kibble in case of emergency departure from camp.  Everyone needs a bugout bag, even four legged survivors.  Gingerly she opened the door, her baseball bat at the ready.  There were no ghouls on the front steps, but the metal was slick with blood and gore.  There had been no clear consensious on wether contact with bodily fluids was enough to transmit the virus, or whatever it was, when contact had been lost with the outside world.  She closed the door and returned to the cab.

“Guess we had best head out the back and take our chances of getting seen.”

Checking the window again to ensure that the side of the engine away from the flaming corpses was indeed quiet, she opened the door and shooed the dog out, then exited and quietly closed the door behind her.  Best to leave the cab at least partially secure in case of need.  At the very least, it made a secure shelter.  Woman and dog scurried along the metal plate walk and ducked around the side of the engine.  Quiet, with only one monster to avoid.  Thankfully it was some way doen the alley and most likely be unable to raise an alarm.  Cheasle slipped down the ladder and placed her backpack on the ground with the staps up for easy grabbing.  She then reached up and grasped the squirming mutt under his forelegs’ and drabbed him over her shoulder in an kind of doggie fireman’s carry.  Struggling off the ladder, she slid the dog to his feet and swung the backpack into position.  Gesturing in the direction of the fire excape and safety, she slid her aluminum baseball bat from the platform above her and trotted off down the alley towards the shambling threat.

Her opponent let loose a growl of desire as the two living creatures approached at a quick pace.  Chelsea silenced it with a homerun swing to the gun, followed up with a slam into the now waist- high skull.  When she had first started this method of dispatching the problem she was disgusted with herself, but now it was just second nature and raised no emotion.  Bullets were a finite commodity, and guns were loud.  Better to save them for hunting.

 

The dog was waiting for her at the door to the building she had been using as a base. Like a good soldier, he was hunkered down with his back to the wall facing the direction of any threat. But he had sighted nothing, his human companion could tell. The anuimal was just watching calmly, not tensed with raised hackles. She slowly opened the door and allowed him to enter before stepping into the gloom. It was better to alow his hightened senses do this quick check, rather then her just step in blindly, eyes more adjusted to the fading rays of the sun then the gloomy interior of the warehouse. Before she closed the door she bent down and grabbed the little solar butterfly that was marking the entrance. She had wanted to ensure a target in case they had been trapped in the engine after dark. But there was no need to advertise her exsistance to the outside world now. A single woman and her dog had more to worry about from other survivors then from the undead if the living were out scavenging. Better to lay low for a little bit. She had raised enough interest in herself today.

 

Cheasle dropped the bar into the brackets behind the door and moved off toward the stairs. The butterfly continued to cycle through its led color pattern, softly illuminating her path and showing the door wandering around the first floor with his nose to the floor.

“Probably hunting himself up a rat for dinner” the woman thought as she headed for the stairs. He was a terrior after all, that was what they did. At the top of the stairs she took the key from around her neck and opened the door to her lush loft apartment.

 

The apartment had not originally been hers, of course. She had stumbled on it while searching through the buildings with her previous crew. When they had all been lost she had returned here, anxious to be somewhere she could secure now that she was alone, and certain that there were supplies to be had. The crew had left a cache of materials in a nearby building knowing they would need to return to somewhere secure when the weather turned colder. Cheslea was not certain what the date was, but it was starting to get cooler now in the evening. It was nice to be able to retreat to this comfortable place while outside the plate glass windows storms raged and flung their icey misery at the crumbling remains of man's time on earth. It had only been a year since the outbreak reports had started leaking out from rural Russia but already nature was claiming back what was rightfully hers. Weeds were sprouting in the streets and roofs leaked onto stacks of unused merchedice in stores. But for now Cheslea had these lush down comforters to lie on, and venision to cook over a sterno stove. Apparently the former owners of the place entertained frequently, or had been caterors. A catalog of the contents of the kitchen cabnets had revealed a case of the jellied fuel. Not much to warm a human on, they could be placed under a pan to boil water or cook meat. You just had to plan ahead as it was not a very quick process. Time was something that she had pleanty of though, and she set about preparing her meal.

 

Of course, refridgeration was non- exsistent now. She would not have even bothered to try and take down the buck in the street had she not been feeling a little desperate, and it was walking with a limp. It was a sign of life returning to nature that the creature had been wandering the industrial district. Obviously the animal had tangled with something nasty, most likely a pack of wild dogs. It's right flanks was bloody and oozing and the animal walked with apparent pain. A rifle shot from the second floor fireexcape was enough to end its suffering. Cheslea had been quick to dash out to the street with a rope and a knife to drag her prize free from the prying eyes of the dead, or from the hunters who had left the fang marks on that rear leg.

 

Thats when she had spotted the dog. The wirey brown mongrel had been sititng in the middle of the street, watching her as she looped the manilla rope from a long abandoned boat under the front legs of the deer and then in two loops over her shoulders to create a harness. She watched him watching her as she started to pull. Grunting with the strain she managed to drag the animal up the street towards the door to her warehouse that for reasons long forgotten contained luzury apartments above. Suddenly the dog had lept to his feet and assumed a aggressive stance, head down and hacled raised. Cheslea followed his gaze and saw the pack of canines trotting down the street. Obviously they smelled the blood. Human senses are not as fine tuned as animals, but Cheslea was afraid that the former masters would follow their companion's lead. Obviosly the pack had not spotted the woman and dog in the street on the other side of their quarry.

 

The woman through herself into the harness and bolted for the door. The animal in tow was probably in the neighborhood of three hundred pounds, but that was nothing compared to the fright that powered her legs. She charged through the open door and quickly shucked off the ropes to dash back and secure against the pack that was now charging up the street in pursuit.

 

“Well come on!” she shouted at the dog who had warned her of the danger. He had needed no second thought and dashed after her with the others gaining. Chelea took aim with the pistol she carried for emergancies and managed to wing one of the pack, a shepart mix from the look of the coloring. The pack seemed to pause a moment as their companion wend down with a scream of pain. That was enough to allow the door to be slammed against the furry, slobbering, threath. Leaning against the door for support and to ensure its securement against the onslaught. Bodies of mans best friend slammed agaisnt the door. Dogs that had once licked the hands of the humans that fed them demanded entry to feed on the human inside. Determining that the door was going to hold. Chelslea had secured the bolt and turned to examin her new companion. Like the deer, he appeared injured. Blood matted the fur around his neck and an ear was missing. His coat was tangled and dirty and he appeared rail thin. He gazed at her as though appraising as well.

 

“Thanks for the warning.” The dog cocked his head at the unfamilar sound. She jesured to the carcus with a sweeping hand. “I suppose that you wish to share in my bountyful harvest?” The tail wagged slightly against the concret. “Fine by me, there is too much for one woman here. But you get the gross guts parts. Again the wagging. “Don't let me catch you nibblinb until I get back. It would be easier if you let me slaughter it first.” With a groan the dog flopped onto the floor. Shaking her head at the apparent understanding of her new partner in hell she headed for the stairs and the set of knives in the kitchen. One of the men who had died that night in the forest had been willing to teach all comers how to hunt and dress game. Most of the people had been unwilling to learn, still to soft from an upbringing of TV and Swanson's meals to accept the ugly realities of their new exsistnace. But Chlsea had lept at the chance. One, it got herout of camp and away from the drama of weak minds devising entertainment. But she was also willing to learn how to stay alive. Coming down with the knives and several stale milkbones from the neighboring apartment she was heartned to see that the dog had not touched the dead animal. Instead he was sniffing around the pallets of materials that occupied the space. The place appeared to have once been a manufactoring site for sheel metal products. Chelsea turned to her unpleasent task and soon had cuts of meat hanging from a nearby lift. From her limited experience it looked like the kind of thing that would lift a motor from a car, but it had a horizontal bar that would bear weight and that was all that mattered. While the meat dripped blood down into the floor drain Chelsea turned to the metal shapes piled around to find something that could be used as a smoker. It would be necessary to preserve the meat somehow if she was to not waste her good fortune. Finding a piece of pipe and some other materials she fashioned a crude apparatus that she hoped would funnel smoke through and dry out the venison. She set to work gathering a stack of pallets to use for wood. The dog watched her solemnly.

 

“I know, the wood is known to the state of California to cause cancer. But we are not really in the position to be choosey are we?” The head cocked. “Those guts are for you.” With the invitation the dog fell to the task of filling his belly with the contents of the deer's innards. It was disgusting to the woman, but it was better to leave nothing to waste. Leaving the dog to his dinner and the meat to drain she had returned to the neighboring apartment and gathered all the dog supplies she could find. When he finally made his way upstairs, apparently comfortably sated, she spend the evening grooming his fur and patching the wounds. That had been enough for the dog whose faded collar maintained that his name was Rocco and he had a microchip on file with the national database. Since that time he had barely allowed his new human out of his sight.

 

But that was last week, and she had a new threat to consider now. Doors to the stairs and to the apartment bolted shut, dinner started, and Rocco on her heals she again removed the binoculars and went to the window facing the tracks. The funeral pyres still burned like candles in the gathering darkness, but there appeared to be less now. Thankfully the flames were not spreading to the buildings or to much of the tufts of grass, but that was probably thanks to the rain for the two days previous. Chslea had buckets on the roof to gather the water, and had taken the opportunity to stand naked in the freezing precipitation and scrub clean with soap she would never have afforded to waste money on before the collapse. She had even managed to scrub some of the filth off of the dog, but it was obvious that he was not a fan of the process. No matter, they were both feeling better now to have been cleaned of the accumulated grime collected over days and weeks without deep cleaning. The water that she collected was now collected in every container that she could find in the four apartments that she had checked so far. One nice thing about being back in the stone age she reflected. The air was cleaner without the addition of new pollutants. One negative factor however, was the lack of fresh fruits and vegetables. She was going to have to learn to can, and find canning supplies.

 

But that was for another day. She focused the binaculers across the way and began to systematicall search the windows of the upper floors where her rescuers had been posted. How many of them had their been? She had seen two, but could there be more? Two men. Chelsea felt a long dorment longing rising within her. It had been a long time since she had been with a man. So long that she had forgotten societies taboos against casual sex. Mark, the hunter who had taught her how to skin animals, had been more then willing to pass the time waiting for quarry with her lips around his rigid cock. She had found it a little off- putting when he had reminder her she was young enough to be his daughter, but found it amusing to whisper “Fuck me Daddy” in his ear as he entered her warm pussy. That had made him falter, but he recovered sufficently to 'punish' her for being so bold. She tried to put the thought from her mind. He was probably dead now too, victum to the false sense of security that being in the large group had brought, and the hordes attracted to the sounds of human voices arguing around a campfire. Still, she absently ran thumb over her nipple while she stared out the window without really seeing. It would be nice to feel a man's warm grip again. She wondered about the men again and slid a hand into her panties to rub her clit. Yes, too long since she had been able to feel that kind of release.

 

Her eyes were drawn back to the vacent land by movement. A shape was darting across the tracks, followed by another. It was hard to tell in the light of the dwindling fires, but it appeared to be two humans in a crouched run. Zombies did not move like that, and the undead at the edges of the croud had turned to follow the movement as well. Chelsea forgot caution, grabbed her pistol and dashed for the door. She had to throw the barricade off the door downstairs if she was going to bring the unprotected survivors in from the darkness. Night was when the dead seemed more active, or maybe it was just the old human predijuce agaisnst that time of day, left over from Neantheral times.

 

The door at the top of the stairs that devided the warehouse from the apartments clanged behind her as she heard the banging on the exterior door and the muffled cries. She sprinted full speed with Rocco close on her heels. The voices raised in panic as she ripped free the bar and wrenched open the door. Two panting forms crashed through the passage.

 

“Are there more of you?” Cheslea shouted.

“No, NO, but they are getting close.”

Cheslea slammed the door and dropped the bar into place. They all held their breath and waited. A moan could be heard outside, the plaintive wail of a ghoul on the trail. Cheslea had recovered sufficently to be pissed with herself and with the two idiots who had gone out in the crowed darkness and invaded her sanuary. And they had had the poor manners to attract the wrong kind of attention in the process. Thankfully, she had a plan to distract the monsters from the door. She was pretty sure that they would not be able to break the metal hop door, but why take any chances.

 

The remaining entrails were in a bucket on the floor, along with some remaining blood that she had finally though to collect. It stank, but that made it even better.

 

“Come- on, lets get them away from the door.”

The two shapes disengaged from the tangle on the floor, and she could see it was the two men from earlier in the day. They looked at her inquiringly. “How?” the taller man asked. He was thin and ragged, but it was obvious that he had not given up yet. Probably a match for her thirty something years on earth, he appeared clean and his hair and beard were trimmed neatly. His dark black skin shone with sweat in the dim light from the window, but his breathing was almost returned to normal despite the long run.

She justured to the collection bin and a nearby empty Foldgers coffee can. “Hop on that ladder over there and I will hand some of this slop up to you. Try and keep it off the window and the wall, but throw it into the street. They are attracted to blood, even if they would never mess with the animals while alive.

He nodded and jumped into position while his partner snatched the can and started scooping the muck. Cheslea dashed into the courner that had once contained break supplies and rummaged around in the old cabnets. Her search yielded a pot, most likely for a yet undiscouvered hotplate. She returned to the two men and joined in the distrubition of the mess. Rocco looked on disapproving as his banquet from last week was thrown wastefully out the window. After a few minutes Cheslea called the process to a hault.

“Oh do not look at me like that. You were done with it.” The dog's expression did not change.

“That was a good idea, they seem to be gone.” The other man had returned to the door and was listening at the jam.

“I see a lot of them over here, and there is a lot of scuffling noises.” his taller companion agreed.

Cheslea sighed. “You gentlemen picked a poor time to come calling, but I am glad for your company. If you promise not to kill me, we can all go upstairs and see about somehting to eat.”

The two men grinned at each other, then back at her. “If we wanted to kill you, we would have just let the zombies do it this afternoon. We were hopeing for some womanly company instead.”

Cheslea was having trouble distinguishing the speaker in the darkness. She just turned and made her way to the staircase, lit by another solar lantren that managed to take a charge in the daylight by the rays that made their way past the high windows along the shop's walls. She would take her chances, what was there to loose. They seemed clean and respectable, but she knew that meant nothing these days. Rocco led the way as the four survivors made their way up to the ultra modern aprartment.

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Dinner of venison and canned tomatos served to take the edge off their hunger. The men had insisted on stripping off their clothing and leaving it in the entrance hallway at the top of the stairs. Cheslea agreed with the principle and followed suit. The clothing was covered in blood from the decoy. Also, it meant that neither could conceal a weapon. The ate naked, then retired to the large windows where she had first spotted then running men.

In the light of the single candle that lit the meal, Cheslea had noticed that the second man was older then the tall fellow. His hair was silver where it was not receeding. His body was thin as well from lask of resources and appeared sinuey from constant physical activity. He went by Jeff, short for Jefferson no indication of that was his first or last name. The younger man Michael. Jeff claimed to be from Charleston originally, and Mike hailed from some little town in the middle of Pennsylvania coal country.

 

Cheslsea was consious of her own body, full and soft despite the hardship. She had always been heavy, but she had been able to provide for herself with her rifle and bow. Her breasts were still large and milky white, and her hips and ass were full. Curvy was the way she would characterize herself now, with toned leg and ass muscles from running up and down the stairs and firm tanned arms from work. She became conscious of someone beside her, then felt the older man's hands on her hips. His body radiated warmth on her skin, even though all that was touching was his hands.

“I believe I mentioned earlier about us desiring a woman's company?” His voice was soft with a southern drawl. Chelsea could scarse believe her ears. Had she not be contenplating this just two hours previous.

“I do recall something like that.”

His hands moved from her hips north to cup her breasts. He pressed his penis against the crack of her ass. He was not hard, but the pressure was exciting. She moaned slightly and closed her eyes.

“Have you ever been had by an older man?” His thumbs flicked at her nipples, and her brain swam.

“I prefer it.” she whispered.

“Have you ever gone down on a black man?”

“No” Chelsea was surprised. Jeff was white. What was he suggesting? Hr breathing quickened. Both at once? That would certainly complete her slide from society's graces. All that was left would be for her to kill one of them for a BBQ.

The hand left her left breast to be replaced by lips. Her eyes flew open and she jerked back into Jeff in surprise. Michael's mouth took her breast in and she gasped to feel his teeth on the soft flesh. He was on his knees and had to tilt his head back to reach her, allowing her to look into his eyes. He grinned cheerfully. Bending forward to grind her ass onto Jeff's cock, Chelsea pulled her tit from Michael's mouth and kissed him fully. She could feel the tip of jeff's penis slide along her pussy. The white man spread her ass cheeks and gripped them firmly.

“I hate to throw cold water on this,” Chelsea said, coming up for air. “But what exactly are you gentlemen after?”

Michael slid a hand up her leg and sent a finger into her wetness. She gasped.

“Pussy.” The words came out in a growl. I want to fuck a bit of white pussy.”

He stood up, and Jefferson pushed her shoulders to force her to her knees. Michaels's member was rigid, pointing invitingly at her.

“You said you have never sucked a black cock,” Michael said guiding her head towards his warm muscle. “The world has gone to shit. Now time like the present.”

That was all the encouragement that Chelsea needed. She grasped the shaft firmly and pulled the skin tight. Licking her lips, she slipped them over the soft tip. She could feel the big man shudder. Her tongue moved over the shaft appreciatively. She was pretty sure that this night was going to result in a solid fucking for her, and she would regret it in the morning, but for now she was content to let her excitement build by getting this man off. A thump sounded behind her, and Jeff lifted her from her knees.

“Kneel on this.”

He had pulled over the wooden coffe table and had pilled the blankets from the couch onto it. She did as commanded, and assumed a position on all fours to continue the task she had set her attention to. The black man's penis was slick and straining, and his breath was becoming ragged.

“What the fuck man,” he groaned, “I was getting close.”

“I know,” the other man replied. “You really need to slow it down.”

Jeff slid two fingers into the woman's pussy and she snapped her head back in surprise. Michael yelped as teeth scratched his tender cock.

“Ever been pleasured by two men at once?” Jeff's mouth moved along Chelsea’s shoulder, pausing occasionally to allow his teeth to take in her flesh. His hand, still inside her, began to fuck her slowly.

“No.” her breathing was ragged and her mind becoming confused. “I was thinking about it earlier.” His thumb stroked her clit with every shove of his hand.

“Good”

Michael slid back into position. His cock slid back into her mouth. Jeff's free hand pinched a very erect nibble and the woman squirmed.

He released the nipple with a parting pinch and moved behind her. Jeff's hand ceased to rock her pussy and slid out. She relaxed visibly, and the men grinned at each other over her back. With the other hand, Jeff gripped his now erect cock.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Morning dawned clear and bright, like it had most days since the country had been plunged back into the dark ages by the unknown disease that caused corpses to reanimate.  “At least there is something to be happy about in all this,” Cheslea commented to the dog as she dished out his morning kibble.  Rocco ignored her, apparently still irritated by the evenings activities and being removed from his bed.  She decided to not react to his behavior and instead knelt down to foundle the dog’s ragged ear.  “Less smog and pollution out there draping over the valley.  My allergies seem to be improving.”

She rose stiffly and stretched.  Carefully she took stock of the little aches and pains.  Muscles long unused protested after the events of the night before.  It would not do to be too sore and cramped to run if the activity of the day called for it.  Stretching warmed everything up and she moved around to ensure everything was loose.  Her pussy ached, but that felt good. Smiling to herself she sliced a picece of the venison jerky from the larger slab and sat down on the plush white sofa with a notebook and a pencil.  Making lists was what she did, the only way that she had found to be able to keep track of the supplies that she had found and buildings that she had scouted.  She had catches of materials and secure hiding places at several places within a day’s walk from where she was now.  The weather was getting crisper and she would need better protection from the elements.  The massive glass wall before her was great for allowing in light but was of a dubious quality for heat retention.  She would need warmer clothing and Rocco would likely need some kind of a garment against the weather as well unless his coat suddenly grew in.  She remembered reading about Iditarod mushers protecting their teams with booties against the sharp edges and biting chill of the ice and snow and wondered if Rocco would need something similar.  The dog was family to her now and she could not imagine allowing something to happen to him if she had the ability to prevent it.

 

A snore rumbled from the loft above, and Chelsea closed her eyes in consternation.  What the hell had she gotten herself into?  Now these men were in her loft and in her life.  They must be somewhat competent to have survived this long, but who were they?  What had they done before everything collapsed?  Would they be on their way now that they had a night with a willing pussy or would they kill her and take what she had amassed?  She was concerned, but a part of her also did not care.  At least if they killed her there would be no reanimating into the mindless creatures that roamed the earth.  She rose and crossed to the window.  Charred black remains littered the landscape below but there was no movement to be seen.  Maybe a good sign, there appeared to be a lot of zombies down there that would never terrorize those who still had a plus, between the firebombing and the massacre with the locomotives.  Still, it would be a good idea to be extra careful today and to raise any trouble elsewhere.

In the reflection from the glass Chelsea saw Jeff pad naked down the stairs from the loft bedroom.  His skin was pale where he normally wore his jockeys, but darker elsewhere.  It seemed to demonstrate at least some time spent working in the sun with only a slight nod to decency.  Cheslea returned to the kitchen and poured a tall glass from the cooler of collected rainwater and he threw it down gratefully before reaching for a refill.  Cheslea watched as he drank, admiring the muscles in his throat as they contracted to speed the water down.  She leaned her butt against the cool top of the counter and allowed her mind to wonder if the top was granite or marble.  She closed her eyes and enjoyed the cooling sensation on her sore muscles.  These people must have been loaded to be able to afford such grand touches.  Her home had just had formica counters.

Silently he placed the tall plastic glass into the sink and stepped over to the younger woman.  Her breasts showed the signs of rough lovemaking, Michael’s lovebites had left small bruises along her left breast and down her stomach to over her full hips.  He felt a stirring in his balls, but maybe that was just leftover from the night before.  Her brown hair was cut short, most likely for ease of maintance, and she had it swept back over her ears with a clip.  She looked younger in the light from the large glass window and he had a pang of guilt.  He felt like a dirty old man for gang fucking her with his boytoy.  Hell, he was already a dirty old pervert for allowing his former student to suck his cock.  He had gleefully pounded the ass of the former grad student and lover of ultimate frisbee while the world fell apart around them.  In the cold light of day it felt to him like rape to have fucked her ass.  He wondered if she regretted it now.  Last night she was sure fine with in.

Jeff joined her leaning against the cool countertop.  In a motion that surprised them both Chelsea threw herself into his arms, rubbing her breasts into his naked chest and reaching around to grasp his soft ass with her right hand.  Her left slid up his face to grip the hair at the back of his head and crush his lips down onto hers.  After a startled pause, he responded with like passion.  A hand grasped her right hip as he forced her around and back against the counter.  She gasped as he crushed her into the hard surface with his warm flesh, but his relentless mouth on hers did not release.  Both hands kneaded mounds of her ass cheeks and he lifted her off the floor to the countertop.  His mouth pulled free of hers.

“I’m an old man and you kids wore me out last night.  If you want more it’s going to take a while. ”  His voice was soft as his lips kissed down her body, inviting her to lean back against the backsplash.  A hand slid up bruised thighs intent on meeting the lips in the middle.  He dropped to his knees and kissed the inside of her thigh.  “Lets try something else.”  His breath caressed her lower lips and he felt a tremble wrack her body.  She was so young, his daughters age…

Cheslea closed her eyes and involuntarily arched her back into him.  “I’m still raw from last night.  We can do this a little slower.”  Her hoarse voice was barely audible.  “I’ve never….”  Whatever she was going to confess never excaped as she clamped her lips to keep from crying out.  Jeff was inside her with his tongue, and her world was reduced to a swirling mass of color and lights.  It felt good, but she was unable to relax and enjoy.  She pushed Jeff away from her and threw a towel off the counter at him.

“Clean yourself up and follow me.  Let’s go where we won’t bother Mike.”

After quietly releasing the door latch and scaning the hall for good luck, Chelsea made her way past the bolted door to the warehouse and into another apartment.  The decore was less pretentious then the loft she currently occupied.  Thrift store couches surrounded the big screen television.  The woman went to the nearest one and began fiddle through the end table that appeared to have collected the odds and ends of life in a bachelor pad.  Leaving the door open in case Michael came searching, Jeff followed his prey into the shabby living room.

The cock that had been a wrinkled windsock only moments before pressed against the crack of her ass with urgency.  He pushed her shoulders down so that she was bent over the arm of the couch and split the warm flesh of her pussy with his fingers and massaged her wetness.  He used her own lube to open her second passageway.  The one that before yesterday had known no man.  His pinkie finger entered her to his first joint and paused there.  His cock ached with desire.  He wanted to rip her in half with it while she cried out for him to stop.  He rubbed the tip of the cock into the damp recesses of her body.  Not deep, just enough to tease her with its pressure.  Her muscles went rigid.  Was it desire, or fear?

“Are you sure that you want this?”

“Oh yes.”

“Yes what?”  He slid a little further in to her pussy.

“Yes I want this.  I want you to fuck me.”  She wasn’t holding back now, no need to be quiet with two doors and a hallway to protect them from the sleeping man in the upstairs bed.

“I thought you were sore?”  He was taunting her now.  The cock probed the entrance to the thick pussy.  She was hot and tight he mused.  She probably was hurting after the pounding from the night before.

“Lube.  Top drawer.”

That was what she had been rummaging for when he came in.  The open end table drawer revealed a tube of Astroglide, a box of Trojan Magnums, and the remote to the bigscreen LG.  Everything a happy modern boy needed.

“What’s this?”

Jeff shoved himself into the prone woman, forcing the heavy cock into her body.  His member was too long for most women and he expected to feel resistance to its forced entry.  He had learned as a young teaching assistant to take it easy when helping coeds to ‘study for their exams.’  His penis had collided with the uterus several times with painful results for both parties.  Fucking mothers had helped after that, but he had missed the feel of a tight pussy.

Jeff forced the woman’s legs as wide as he could and rammed his cock deep.  His balls struck her lower lips as he ground his full length home.  Cheslea shrieked into the couch cushion, as he leaned over her back to the floor in front of the couch.  He stood up holding a Courvoisier bottle.

“Hey!  Look what I found!”

“You are a fucking prick.  That hurt like a bitch!”

Grinning like a fiend, Jeff uncorked the bottle and raised it to his lips.  Then he remembered himself.  “Ladies first.”

The feel of the cock being removed hurt almost as much as its entrance.  This time the woman did not bother to stifle her moan into the cushion.  She enjoyed sex, and liked it better when she could be loud.  The last time, with Daniel out in the forest while waiting for deer, she had needed to be quiet so as not to frieghten the quary or attrackt two legged hunters.  Here in the retreat that she had fortified so painsteakenly she could be loud as she had never been before.  It made it feel even better!  Liberating!  Powerful!

Jeff pulled her to her feet and passed the bottle.  She took a deep pull from the mouth.  Conscious that he was staring at her, she poured a little on her breasts.  The man sucked it from her flesh like a dying man after water.  Filling her mouth, she pulled him into a deep kiss, both tasting the sweet cognac as it burned throats raw from sucking cock.  Playfully he pushed her onto her back on the couch and stood over her to guzzle from the bottle.  She took the opportunity to grab the Astroglide and apply it liberally to her bruised orifice.  She had alswyas fantacised about having two men as lovers, but she had not planned on the wear and tear.

“Easy on that, don’t want to loose your edge.”

Jeff knelt down and angled the bottle to her mouth for another shot.  Cheslea was getting dizzy from the alchol on the empty stomach, but was enjoying the effects.  One of his fingers made circles in her opening and made her brain swim.

“I want to rape you.”

“Don’t you think it is a little late for that?”  Her words slurred.  “I have demonstrated more then willingness to have you debase me in the name of sexual pleasure.”

“Not for real, obviously.  I really couldn’t do that.  Too much the sissy.  Just a fantasy.”  The finger slid in deeper.  “Can we roleplay?  Please?”

“Look it buster, make me orgasm like you did yesterday and I will let you do anything short of drawing blood.  And we can discuss that.”  It was becoming increasingly hard for her to think.

“Call me Dr. Fenway.  I’m the professor and I am making you fuck me to save your grade.  You are a non- trad student, but extremely sheltered.  Only had sex with a highschool boyfriend who left you at the alter.”

“Mmhmm”

“Safeword is Pumpernickel.”

“Pumpernickle.  Got it.”  Her heart was racing and she could not imagine trying to make him stop.  She wanted him so bad she could not think!  When she closed her eyes the room spun.

The hand stopped.  “Now Cheslea, we need to talk about this grade.  There is no way that you can pass this class with scores like this and I think you should look into enrolling next semester.”

“Please Dr. Fenway, isn’t there something I could do?”  Cheslea sat up and wobbled over to the coat closet.  She could think so much better without him inside her and this might be fun.  “Some kind of extra credit?  It’s the last class that I need or I can’t graduate. ” She removed a man’s suit jacket and slipped it over her bare flesh.  “The class isn’t offered until sometime next year.”  The satin lining felt soft against her skin as she wrapped it tight.  “Please sir, I will do anything.  The student loans are killing me.”  Jeff grinned approvingly.

“Well, I guess there is something.  Come sit beside me on the couch.”  Cheslea obeyed, and crossed her legs demurely.  She giggled.

“I can make this bad midterm grade go away.”  He slid a hand onto her knee.  “Make sure that you pass the entire course.”  The hand slid up her thigh.  “Hell, I can fix it so that you can ace all of your major courses this semester.  I am the department head you know.”  The hand came to rest in her bush.

“Oh no sir, I just couldn’t!”

“It’s this, or having to wait another year to take the course.”  He forced her onto her back on the couch and knelt over her.  “As department head I can make sure it is a while before we offer this again.”

“But I can’t have sex with you!  What would people think?”  His rigid member pressed against the woman’s leg.  “I don’t what to do this!”  A hand clamped her thigh.  “Please do not do this sir!”  A finger slipped into her pussy and Cheslea moaned.  This was fun, and a major turn on as well.

“Shhhhh….”  Another finger joined the first.  “Tell anyone about this and I will say you came on to me.” The hand forced in deeper.  “I would tell you that it won’t hurt but I would be lying.”

All of a sudden it DID hurt.  “PUMPERNICKLE!  LUBE!”

Jeff was quick to comply, and suddenly Chelsea was out on cloud nine.  He was fisting her, rocking her entire body with his thrusts.

“Please stop Dr. Fenway!”

“Shut your mouth and just lie there.  Be a good girl, and you can even ace the course.”

“NO!”  Jeff froze.

“Don’t really stop,” Cheslea panted.  “What the fuck?”

He grinned circled her clit with a thumb.  She screamed and her body jumped with uncontrollable spasums.

“See, now there is a good girl.  You ike this.”

“No.”

“You want this.”

“No.  Please.  I’m scared!”  Why had she never tried this shit before?  At least it was not too late to become sexually liberated after the fall of society.  She was enjoying herself more then she wanted to admit.

“Admit that you want me to fuck you and we can make this end.”

“No!”

“You are a little slut.  I’ve seen how you look at me.”

“No.  STOP!  Someone?”

He rolled onto her and the penis was suddenly breaching her wetness.  “You want this.  Tell me that you want my cock and I will make gentle.”

The pause drove the aroused woman frantic.  She tried to lift herself onto his stiff cock, but it slid out, causing her body to jerk involuntarity.

“Please Mr. Fenway.  FUCK ME!”

Jeff grinned and entered her missionary style.  The feel of his warm member was a release.  Chelsea started to cry.  Between the alcohol on the empty stomach and the incredibly sex she was losing her grip.

“I want you to fuck me.  Fuck me slow.  Lie and tell me that you love me and it will all be ok.”

 “I love you, its all going to be ok.”  It was wrong, but he was turned on by the sight of the woman crying for him to fuck her/ He spoke slowly, fucking her to the rhythm of the words he kept repeating.  His pace quickened as he kept repeating the words.  Watching her heavy breasts heave as he forced his penis into her aroused him to greater passion and he was unable to be soft and soothing.

Her tears subsided.  Arm muscles rigid with the strain of trying to hold herself in place on the couch, Chelsea’s body was a swirl of pain and desire.  She screamed out and arched her hips up to meet the older man’s thrusts.  She remembered the role- play.

“Oh it hurts!  Please stop Mr. Fenway!”

“Don’t be a bitch,” He snarled through gritted teeth.  “You like this.  “You want this.”  Jeff leaned down and bit Chelsea’s erect nipple.

That was all she needed.  A primal scream ripped the air and all control was lost.  Spasms gripped her body and she thrashed uncontrollably under her lovers thrusting body.  It set Jeff off as well and they both achieved orgasm violently.

Michael slipped through the passageway from the foyer, gun in hand, attracted by the noise. He arrived to see his two partners from the previous evening locked in carnal embrace.  His first thought was anger at being left out, but that was immediately followed by amusement.  Jeff’s back was to him, and he could see the man’s glistening cock entering the woman, who thrashed on the couch.  His own cock began to fill with desire.  No need to waste good cheap entertainment.  Sinking into a chair where he could not be seen the young black man engaged in long strokes or his heavy penis while his former professor ploughed the young woman.  Michael had been queer as long as he could remember, but for the first time he was feeling arousal at the thought of fucking a woman.  Or maybe it was watching the sweaty hips of his lover force the cock he that had been his into the body of another.  A pang of jealously crossed Michael’s mind as he listened to the panting groans from the couch.  Then he felt a stronger urge.  Lust.  He wanted to ram his cock into Jeff now more than ever.  Just the thought of forcing his black shaft into that clenched ass made him nearly erupt.  He struggled to his feet and approached the lovers.

The tube of lubricant was on the floor and he applied it liberally to his groin.  The cold gel tempered his ardor momentarily, but Michael was in no hurry.  Best to wait until the others had finished before he joined them.  Then everyone would be having a good morning.

From the couch came a roar that made the young man smile.  He had heard it many times before, typically he was the one who had cause it.  The older man collapsed to the couch, spent.  All the better, he would be relaxed and ready to receive his lubbed package.  Michael knelt on the couch above the lovers and forced himself into the hole that he known so well.  A moan excaped lips clenched in concentration.  It would not take long at this rate until he lost his control.

Cheslea gasped as Jeff’s weight crushed her into the worn fabric.  She focused her eyes on Michael’s, and laughed joyously.  He laughed at her as well.  They were making a sex sandwich of the older man, who had his eyes closed and was making wimpering noises.  A chin with a weeks worth of beard scratched over her chest and she felt his mouth suck her breast.  With his hands he struggled to hold his weight off of her, but she was having none of it.  She wanted to be a part of their lovemaking.

“Harder Mike!  Fuck him hard!”

The younger man needed no encouragement.  The older man crashed onto the woman as his gay lover punished him for straying to another.  Punished him for suggesting that they leave the safety of their warm hiding place.  Rewarded him for the fantastic gamble that the woman from the locomotive would be alone and willing to engage in freaky sex.

When the orgasm hit it was like a bomb in his head.  Michael slumped onto the pile on the couch, the cock that had been so hard slipping gentle from his lovers ass.  He rolled to the floor and lay spread- eagled on the stained carpet.

“Wow, I see why you took the other place.”

Cheslea started to giggle and could not stop.  Such a dumb comment about the decor after they had just had the most fantastic lovemaking of her entire life.  Chelsea slid from under Jeff to allow the exhausted man the entirety of the couch and straddled Michael on the floor.  Rubbing her heavy breasts into his chest, she bent forward to press his lips with a gentle kiss.

“Can I assume that we are taking today off?”  He grinned up at her boyishly.

“I do not even think I can return to our apartment.  Let’s just live here forever.”

Michael wrapped his arms around the womand and rolled her over so that they switched positions.  His soft cock grazed her wirey fur.  “Does that mean we can stay?”

“Stay forever, as long as we can do this from time to time.  Not again today though.”

Michael laughed, and pulled her to her feet.  Jeff snored from the couch.  “Let’s leave him a blanket and see if we can find something to eat.”

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