Nice to "Eat" You P1
Nice to “Eat” You - Part 1
Running between the parked and abandoned cars on the highway, they made it out onto the side of the road and through a hole in the fence just as the first few of the undead assholes started to weave their way through the twisted metal labyrinth that the highways of central New Jersey consisted of. They had been trying to make their way to the Ocean—someplace like Asbury Park or Sandy Hook—so that they would at least have the sunny beaches at their backs. The fewer places the undead could hide, the better.
So far no one had been able to get a zombie to swim.
The many waterways that laced through the land leading towards the coast were a fucking godsend, even though God seemed to be ignoring the pleas of the humans that still survived in a post-apocalyptic world.
Shit—people thought the German measles or Spanish flu was a bother? Try contending with an undead walking corpse that wanted to take a chunk out of your flesh. Hoards of them.
Once the news networks broke down, there was marshal law. What little information one could glean was weak at best, disheartening at most. It seemed that unless you severed the head at the brain stem, the creepy-looking fuckers kept coming at you.
The three of them toppled down the hill, Jack leading the way in his old army fatigues that allowed him to blend into the trees on the side of the road near the interstate. They had just come off I-195 and were heading east when their stolen army vehicle—Jack knew how to start that bitch without a key—had run out of gas. It was by foot then, which was just as well. Where people thought they were going with the walking undead roaming around, Ruby had no fucking clue.
Arsyn was coming up from the back, dutiful protector that he was. Ever since he and Ruby had left Sussex County heading east, he had been her ever-faithful shadow. The two had been neighbors living in Wantage for years before the unthinkable had happened.
Some people said it was a plague, others thought it came from outer space. Some even thought it was another Chinese infectious disease, something like SARS or the Coronavirus a couple of decades ago.
And it’s not even an election year, Ruby thought snarkily.
Her vote was on Jack and Arsyn. They kept her sane and safe, though she was a force to be reckoned with for sure. She may not have gotten into fist fights back in the day, but her temper was as fiery as her hair, and her father had rifles and machetes galore in his study in the basement. She had taken enough ammo and the Berringer, slipping the machete into its belt and tying it off securely around her waist. It wasn’t WWIII chic, but it did in a pinch.
Bear Swamp was straight to their south and was so mucky that you were likely to lose your shoes trudging through it, so they walked parallel to the highway, due east towards Allaire State Forest. If the roads hadn’t been cluttered with fleeing tourists from the beach and local residents trying to find their way back to their summer homes, it would have only taken them a half an hour with no traffic.
Ruby didn’t want to think about what it meant that all those cars had been abandoned, many of them stocked with nonperishable items, but the few bloody hands that she saw in the distance made her think they were overrun by the dead at some point. These people had thought to bring food, but not weapons.
Touristy idiots. Water was great, but if you didn’t have a way to defend yourself, you were fucked. Your ass wouldn’t be needing any water.
Although all three of them had armed themselves with guns, the sounds attracted more of the undead, and they preferred to use them sparingly and only when they caught a few undead on their own. Most seemed to come together in herds after weeks on the run, and Jack had to wonder if there was some mob mentality behind it all. He’d heard of such things when he’d been in the army, but this was the first sign of it he had ever seen in real life.
It’s not like he could actually ask a walking zombie. They made sounds, but couldn’t vocalize actual words—not that you wanted to ever get close enough for some conversation.
It almost reminded him of that old TV show that was so popular when he was a toddler. He remembered his mother watching it every Sunday, practically on the edge of her seat unless he was caught snooping from the second floor bannister when he should have been in bed.
Arsyn only thought of Ruby. They had been friends since they were in preschool, and he’d seen her growing up from pigtails and freckles to a voluptuous adult, her fair skin so sensitive to the sun that she had to use SPF5000 just to remain unblemished by freckles.
He actually wouldn’t have minded the freckles that had embarrassed her so when she was a kid. He actually liked them. They made her look young. What he didn’t like was the hard look on her face now—like she’d seen things.
Because she had. Everyone who was alive nowadays had. Loved ones killed—mostly by Z’s, a common nickname for the walking dead fuckers that didn’t seem to need sleep no matter how far they wandered. Arsyn—who lots of times went just by Syn—wished he could wipe away the weeks of strain on her face.
They walked until they were too tired to move, and then they found a small power station with enough room inside for them to sprawl out on the floor. They went to sleep early that night, pushing a piece of heavy machinery against the doors.
When the sun woke them the next day, they still felt bone weary, but they were close enough to the juncture where 195 turned into 138 and headed due east to the town of Belmar. They figured if food was scarce, they could always steal a boat and go fishing for their dinner.
“Should take less than a day unless we run into a herd,” Jack told them. Like the other two, he was a New Jersey resident, but had grown up near the ocean in Avon-by-the-sea, which was walking distance to nearby Belmar.
As always, what he said was fine with Ruby and Syn, and they followed him until civilization—well, what was left of it—loomed on the horizon. Deserted shopping malls and residences off to the side, they made their way eastward until they were forced onto smaller arterial roads. They chugged along 16th Avenue until they finally hit Ocean Avenue and the Atlantic, with its salty smell and pristine beaches.
They took a left toward more residences and knocked on a few homes front doors. They were boarded up, so there was no sense trying to look into windows. Jack tried one doorknob and it opened, though he put his hand out to them, making them halt in their steps until he gave the all clear and raised his glock as he entered.
The dead weren’t the only ones that were dangerous nowadays.
The house was empty and silent, every nook and cranny investigated thoroughly until they were sure that no one had been there probably for at least a good month. The two men were glad that they wouldn’t have to board up the windows to secure the house, though they engaged all the locks on the front and back doors before checking to see if the place had a cellar. It did, and it was fully stocked.
As Syn munched on graham crackers and Ruby nibbled on some dodgy pringles, Jack opened up a tin of chili and ate directly from it, even if it was cold. A filter in the kitchen sink was good enough for them, and for the first time in days, they had their fill of the cool, refreshing beverage. It was hard to think that two months ago it was something they all took for granted.
Jack went down to the basement and came back up a few minutes later holding onto a bottle of whiskey that had never been opened. Another luxury that one would have overlooked eight weeks prior. Alcohol.
They took clean glasses and headed up the stairs, deciding to sleep in the same room for safety. One room boasted a huge bed, twice as big as anything they had seen in weeks, and they all took a position on it, the bottle of Glenlivet off to the side on the ornate nightstand, all their glasses full of the fiery liquid.
“Never have I ever killed someone before the walking undead decided to show their ugly ass faces,” Syn said, his hand never even hesitating to keep still. He had been a peace-loving person before Z’s had started cropping up in the major cities.
Jack lifted his hand and took a deep swallow before speaking. “Syria. Ten years ago, stupid fucking splinter cell of al-nusra terrorist group. Wasted ten fuckers in under a minute as they came at us with motherfucking blow torches. Crazy sons of bitches… Never have I ever had sex with a man.”
Ruby stuck her tongue out at him and took a swallow. Jack quirked his lips up and spoke again. “Good to see you’re not batting for the other team, angel face. After all this shit is over and done, we need all the pretty ladies like you to start repopulating the earth. I just hope all the Zero Population fucktards died with the emergence of the Z’s.”
Ruby snorted as she tried to cover her mouth. It was a habit and the windows were opened enough that they could possibly be heard.
“Never have I ever had to use an apocalyptic armageddon to get my dick wet,” she threw back at him and grinned as he chuckled and lifted his glass to his lips.
Syn was a relatively good guy, and he hadn’t even thought about using their situation to try and get Ruby to drop her drawers for him.
They kept playing their game, always picking something they knew one of the others probably had done. It felt nice to let loose and have some fun after weeks on the run. The alcohol numbed a bit of what they went through, and they were all feeling good as they joked quietly with each other.
Night fell and they used the curtains on the second floor—they guessed Z’s hadn’t quite learned to climb yet—to black out the room as Ruby lit some big, expensive-looking candles that scented the room in a mixture of fresh apples and cherry.
As she laid back onto the bed, Jack moved closer, within arms reach of her head, then stroking her hair softly as he took another swig of whiskey.
The game had slowed down until anyone was tossing out a declaration and the others either drank or abstained.
“Never have I ever had my dick sucked during a post-apocalypse where the dead ruled the earth,” Jack spat out on a chuckle.
“That’s not fair,” Ruby told him, looking up at his face. “I don’t even have a dick.”
“Never have I ever wanted to have a threesome in the aforementioned post-apocalyptic world,” Syn joked, though Ruby stilled before sitting up. Then she reached for her glass, less than an inch of it still filled with Glenlivet. She took a small sip and looked up at both of them, green eyes sparkling gently in the candlelight.
“Well, I’ve always been a little curious,” she told them. “Haven’t you?”
Jack glanced at Arsyn, knowing full well that if it was up to Ruby’s friend of many years, he’d never make the first move. He leaned in, winding his fingers through her hair before yanking it back and baring her throat to them. As her lips opened on a gasp, he moved in closer until his breath could be felt against her cheek.
“Don’t kid about that if you don’t want it, doll,” he told her, a low groan escaping with his low tone. “I have no problem fucking you comatose even if Syn here won’t admit he’s got a boner about a mile long for you.”
As the younger man went to protest, his eyes locked with Ruby’s. He stilled, her confused stare making him choke back the words of denial.
“Tell her how much you want her, Syn, and don’t you dare fucking lie. I see you staring more often at her than anything else. Almost lost your fucking head a few times you were so intent on keeping her safe over yourself. If you haven’t been jacking off to her since you were teenagers, I’ll eat my fucking glock.”
Syn swallowed, but nodded his head as he blinked.
It was Ruby’s sweet voice, and fuck did it always do something to him when she said it.
“Is that true?”
“It is.” He didn’t know where he got the balls from to admit that. Maybe some of Jack’s bravado was rubbing off on him, maybe it was the possibility of imminent death every day, but the words were out there and he couldn’t find it in himself to regret them.
“Move over here, Arsyn,” Jack commanded, his voice gruff.
Like a soldier, he hopped to and was shuffling towards them on the bed, slowly as he tried to stifle the groan of approval as he watched her chest rise and fall, her ample breasts thrust out towards Jack’s body.
“Now kiss her,” Jack bade him as he slid closer to them both. “Kiss her until she’s all you can taste.”
Her head wrenched to the side and he could see her, not just a part of her profile. Thrust-out tits, lustrous eyes—something in them, some curious notion, like she’d had an idea and it was just coming forth to be spoken.
Her lips parted, speaking words—words he never thought he’d hear in his life.
“Kiss me, Syn.”
He took her lips like she was a snake charmer and he was the snake. He couldn’t have moved faster if he’d tried, and he slipped his hungry tongue in to taste her sweetness.
She whimpered against his mouth and his strokes grew desperate, brazen, his hand coming up to cup the back of her head as if to keep her molded to his mouth. When his other hand moved over to her breast, she grasped onto it, pulling it against her rounded globes as the hard points of her nipples scraped against his palms through her thin green t-shirt.
He tweaked one and felt her shudder, his touch growing firmer as she gave him soft little whimpers that he devoured with every sweep of his tongue.
As he pulled her closer to him, the noise of the ocean through the widows faded out and a low groan split the otherwise silent room.
Glancing over as he pulled away, he wondered how he hadn’t realized Jack had undone his belt and pulled out his cock.
The man’s eyes looked glazed as he worked himself up and down, squeezing the tip as he hardened further, a pearly drop slipping from the tip to drip down onto his thick fingers.
Jack huffed out a laugh as Ruby and Syn stared at him, watching as he stroked himself slowly—as if savoring it.
“Come over here, angel face.” He leaned forward, cupping her face before licking her bottom lip. “I think you need to get on this cock already.”