Zombie Love Story?

"Zombie Story"

Day 30: My morning started out like any other, the blinding sun was shining, the three thousand birds that were outside were chirping nonstop and my stomach was growling like a bear that woke up from its winter sleep. Forcing myself out of bed, only because I needed food, I slid out of my sheets and onto the floor because i was too lazy to get up. I walked into the kitchen trying to avoid the bathroom mirror for fear of what i looked like this morning. Then I realized I forgot to buy cereal for breakfeast. Throwing on my hoodie and converse, half attempting to brush my matted black hair i jumped in the car and drove off towards the store. Theres a gas station about half a mile away from my apartment which has some minor grocery items inside each for a dollar. Normally when going in there I'll see Mac the old guy who runs the gas station, Macs got short grey hair hes half blind and hes got an eye thats brown and one thats blue. This morning was different though, Mac wasnt behind the corner, and the store looked like somebody had ransacked the place. I yelled for Mac to see if anyone was here, and at first i recieved no answer. I jumped over the counter and stepped on something. Then I saw him. It wasnt Mac though, it was his nephew Jason. He was as pale as a ghost and his eyes were bright red.. he was dead. Distracted by that, I heard a weird growling noise, I turn around to find what was a shell of Mac. He wasnt alive anymore. He wasnt Mac anymore. He was a zombie. Next thing I know I find myself trying to lock the bathroom door and then beating Mac with the toilet seat... then i hightailed my ass out of there. I thought two words.. Zombie Apocolypse. Day 29: After what had happened yesterday i took a bunch of cold pills and passed out hoping i just ate some bad salmon or something but that wasnt true. Scrounging around my house the next morning I looked for my cell phone realizing I left it at the store, and i sure as hell wasnt gonna go back for it. With the fiasco with Mac and Jason I wasnt taking any chances so I barricaded myself in my own house, becoming a prisoner in my home for saftey reasons. Then it happened. The tightening of my chest, the lack of oxygen, darkness that came over me. Asthma attack, I frantically search for my inhaler which is on the top of my fridge, I manage to crawl towards it only to find that i only have one puff left. I use the puff as if its my lifeline and it probably is.. a flashback from when this happened to me when i was little, the air escaping from my lungs, the room goes dark and i pass out. I just hope this time i dont wake up dead.
Day 28: Obviously locking myself inside the house and pretending that this isnt happening to me isnt going very well. The only way im going to not die is make a plan to survive no matter what I have to do. Goal A: Get some food without having to beat anyone with a toilet seat again. Goal B: If needed hold up a drugstore and get a lifetime supply of asthma drugs. Goal C: Do not die. Thats all i got. After watching my endless supply of zombie movies and taking notes on everything that could help me I plan out my survival and packing plan. Im gonna need, food, water, weapons, ammo, and a backpack. I need to pack light. I figure i wont need any money considering mostly everyone except for a kid with asthma and allergies who lives indoors all the times would be zombie, if i need anything i can just take it and walk out. What are they gonna do to me, bite me? Thats what the toilet seats for.
Day 27: Driving around in my small town looking for weapons I discover the Big 5 and Wal mart. Well lets see.. Big 5 home of sporting goods and endless weapons or Wal mart home of freaky ass wierdos that come out in the dark with the night stalkers and only has twinkies for weapons.. I picked Big 5.. cant exactly double tap a zombie with a fricken twinkie. Everyone in my towns dead so Big 5's a free for all. Pepper sprays, guns, bats, swim tubes, pool noodles, and the skii poles. All a wonderland for one who is looking for weapons to take out zombies eyes with. This place isnt half as helpful as Cabelas but its just gonna have to do. While wandering around Big 5 I find the skateboards and roller skates. I grab a handfull of each realizing when i run out of gas, Im gonna need them.. they also work nicely as weapons. That point proved well because when i got out of the store i played chinese fire drill with a zombie until i managed to get the car door open, I was still wearing the skates which i used to knock off its head. Day 26: So im driving through a town that i dont even recognize anymore. I grew up here. We had green grasses which are now gray and dead. The skies are dark and full of rain. Theres garbage strewn all over the street and everythings torn to shreds. Body parts are being run over as I drive on the street, I can hear the crunch of boney fingers under my tires. Its getting to the point where i might puke in my glove compartment. I cannot believe im going to the place in town which i call hell. Im going back to the high school. The darkest place of my teenage years. The place where i almost died. If it wasnt falling from the flagpole after my underwear lost all of its elastic it was me trying to throw myself off of the balcony. Right now its the only place that i can think of that has enough rooms for me to hide in. I know that school like my right hand. As I parked outside, I approached the front door with extreme caution because we have HUGE bushes that those freaks of nature could be hiding in. The schools that were once full of the youth and confindence of my peers are now empty. Everything and everyone is gone... and theres silence in the air. While enjoying the moment, the silence is broken with whispered yelling and a gun at my head. Its my friends Jinx and Stephanie who i thought were dead. They'd been hiding in a storage closet making out and doing their "stuff" when everything went down. Jinx being the freak he is, had everything packed in case this were to ever happen. Stephanie on the other hand wasnt so chill. The moment they found me she burst out crying saying how she thought i was dead. Next thing I know theres a football team of zombies chasing after our asses. The sweet sound of lockers slamming zombie heads, fire extinguishers spraying everywhere, and trying to use gravy as a weapon. Then out of the corner of the lunchroom is the most handsome creature id ever seen. His names Grady. Long blond hair, Wet Blue Eyes a really nice body and a mind of a scholar. Perfect. Thank god theres not any competition... because we've liked each other since the fifth grade. Heres my chance.
Day 25: The wierdest hodge podge group of four school kids crammed inside my moms pontiac. Me: A freaky emo kid with hair that goes down her shoulders and a case of borderline personality disorder and is prone to anxiety attacks and asthma spasms. Stephanie: My best friend on and off since fourth grade, attached at the hip with me and ready and willing to make out with her friends with benefits friend Jinx, shes always worried that im gonna do something really insane. Jinx: Our very hairy and very short man friend. He's got the wisdom of a jedi and the sexuality of a really turned on teenage guy. And Grady my dream guy, dirty blond hair, skinny but not too skinny, and has the cutest hippie style. We plan to drive to Seattle. We're gonna hide out in the space needle and try and see if we can wait it out while we make a plan on where to go next. Hopefully we dont get eaten by zombies on the way there... or if the zombies dont get us, we'll end up going nuts and killing each other off. Day 24: Seattles nice, but its not like home. Unlike home its a pretty large city, we live in a population of one thousand and half are kids. Theres graffiti everywhere.. its like someone let their five year old draw all over the damn walls and buildings. Dont get me wrong i love graffiti as much as the next person, i just dont want it on my house, on my car or on a building that i work in. When i used to watch the news I always saw stories about this city, but now it looks like a wasteland. The zombies are like a tornado destroying city by city. Finding the Space needle wasnt hard considering its height and look. Me and Jinx being the short people we are it looks even bigger than it already is. Usually you would need to pay but when we went to the booth, only the workers arms were available they were stuck to the podium. Climbing to the top of the space needle, i could see all of the pacific northwest almost. There were fingers on the floor and it smelled like death and decay, but it was shelter. It was gonna become our home for the next couple days.
Day 23: Next morning was a little rough, because we were all a little grouchy from no sleep because of looking out for zombies, and our stomachs were growling. We realized we need food. "The best place to get fresh food in the northwest is Pike place and the fish market. Usually Stephanie being the very healthy eater she is would never eat fish, because its an animal, dying of starvation which in turn would make her weak, letting zombies have a higher chance of getting her. I grabbed a couple salmon, Grady grabbed anything that looked good and would fit in his backpack, while Stephanie and Jinx ran around the store looking for anything that was sweet. While we were in the market, we heard the call of the zombies, luckily Seattle was having its street fair when chaos insued and the lumber jacks fleed and left their chainsaws. Idiots, but helpfull idiots. Time to slice up zombie heads. I chose the go from the zombies brain-to as far as i could go-without getting the blades stuck in organs method. It works. Nice.
Day 22: The morning after came, with another day of destroying zombies and trying not to die off one by one. I can already see that this new life is getting boring and depressing. We've been doing the same this everyday. Wake up, eat, take our shits and pisses in gas stations, throw zombies off of a ferris wheel or chop em into pieces, eat again, go to sleep and move on to a new place.
Day 21: We arrived this morning at the ferry docks. For the first time, I'll be on an actual ferry. The windows rolled down, I can smell the salt water and seaweed. The chill of the air shocks the back of my neck bringing up the hairs. As the four of us drive onto the ferry, we look back to kiss our sweet asses goodbye. I thought to myself, great another zombie attack... whoo... i got wayyyy more that i bargained for. Stephanie and me ran upstairs to check out the top deck, and Jinx and Grady took off downstairs looking for any usefull weapons. It was the first time in almost a week that me and stephanie were together without jinx. It was wierd. Awkward. As steph looked around for food, i ran to the bathroom to take a piss. I walked in looking at the floor making sure i wouldnt step in pee. Next thing I know im getting hit with something in the head. I ran into something dangling. Afraid to look up i shake my head to get whatever was on me off, and a note lands at the bottom of my feet. Still refusing to look at the mirror which will show me what i ran into i open the note. It says "Dear whoever found my son, please take of his body. He has no clue what i did to him, you may think im horrible but i had to do it. Jacks a small and weak child. The disease would have ruined him. I put sleeping pills in his juice, and hung him in this bathroom. I then jumped off the boat and sunk myself. I needed to do this in order to save Jack the trauma. Please throw his body in the ocean so he can be with me." -Jacks Father. Oh good lord. I shakingly look in the mirror and now see the dead body of ten year old Jack. As i sit there and stare, his deep piercing blue eyes staring at me, through his long blond hair, I cant help but think what if i did this. What if i just ended it all like Jacks Dad? I cannot stand to look into jacks eyes any longer, I shut his eyelids and walk out of the bathroom shutting the door behind me. I no longer have to pee. I decided against telling the others about Jack. I thought of him as my own little secret. Untouched and innocent. The quiet serenity of jacks body releasal into the ocean was quickly disturbed by Jinx's lady screaming. A fricken sea of one hundred wiener dogs were on that damn boat. Not just one hundred REGULAR wiener dogs, but one hundred fricken ZOMBIE wiener dogs! Of course only on this gosh forsaken ship, does this happen! Needless to say, we jumped off that boat, and when i mean jumped i mean we jumped. As in without our car. We had to swim five miles back to land. Who runs from wiener dogs..?! Well us... Day 20: After our nice little cruise vacation with zombie dogs and our very "exciting" swimming activity we made it to an abandoned wal-mart for refuge. Only a wal-mart, which has food, clothes, weapons, electricity, and is famous for women giving birth. We dried off in the bathroom and ate dinner in the furniture section. Finally we went to sleep in their camping department. Alarm clocks and lanterns in hand we finally got some shut eye. We were dry, pretty well fed, had everything we needed. But somehow we just expected for something else to go wrong.
Day 19: I woke up early and tiptoed to the showers while the others were sleeping. For the first time in about two weeks, i took a normal shower. I didnt sit in the water at the beach to wash up, i didnt wash my hair in the ocean, i stood in a stall and washed my hair with hot water and shampoo. Now a luxary. I dried myself off in the steamy bathroom and heard that the others were up. I walk out there to find a very pregnant woman sitting in one of our recliners. Her name was Amy. She was nine months pregnant and ready to pop. In shock and having a case of word vomit, the first thing i said was "what is this, where the heart is?" (movie about a pregnant chick in a walmart) Steph punched me in the arm lightly and told me to shut up. Amy told us she'd been hiding in here ever since the disease took over. She was in the walmart when it happened and had been hiding herself in the storage room behind boxes, but came out when she thought she heard voices. Right when im about to ask how we're supposed to feed a now five people Amy starts yelping. Shes freaking out saying make that six people .. because this babies coming! Stephanie shakingly asks "so whose gonna handle this cuz im sure as hell not, How about you Kellin? You watch this stuff anyway." I respond with Me?! Why Me? I guess me being vollunteered for tribute wasnt possible to get out of .. because next thing i knew.. my hands were down there and Amy was screaming at the top of her lungs. The womans just screaming and moaning and crying like shes on one of those really dramatic soap operas. As soon as the head barely starts to come out, Jinx passes out and Grady has to drag him out of there by his feet. I can see the babies head coming out and i REALLY REALLY REALLY dont wanna do this. Stephanie tries to leave and makes an excuse that she wants to help jinx but i grab her by the shirt collar and say "you vollunteered me to do this, if i have to watch this so do you." So Amys screaming that she cant do this.. and i can tell that shes crowning now which is why shes yelling so loud. Shes pushing, im yelling at her to push harder, Stephanies screaming and yelling and trying not to vomit all at the same time. And Jinx is still passed out on the ground. Then. The baby comes out. It cries a little, opens its little brown eyes and stares back at me. Amy names the kid Aubrey. Shes adorable. But im never having kids. After Aubrey was born, Amy started acting wierd. I felt this wet stuff on my pants, it was her blood. She was just pouring blood. Before Amy died she made all four of us promise that if anything were to happen to her kid that we take care of her. She told us that it was her mothers intuition that it was her time, and that she was going to sacrifice herself for her daughter. The zombies broke in, destroyed Amys dead body. We grabbed our shit, almost forgot the kid, and ran our asses out of there. Day 13: For the next four days we walked from that walmart to the deception pass park. These last four days have been increasingly hard for me. Im starting to realize that we're in an endless cycle of death, murder and canibalism that never gonna end. I ran out of my medication a couple of days ago. That medication is supposed to balance out my moods so I dont want go into manic states and try to kill myself again. Obviously its kind of hard to get medication when all the pharmacists are dead, and theres no way to order more medication. So i guess im just gonna have to control myself or die. I put the baby to bed wrapped in Stephanies warm arms, who is wrapped in Jinxs arms. I walked outside so i could be alone. Alone where no one could stop me from killing myself.. because i just dont wanna do this anymore.
Day 12: Its one o'clock in the morning. Tears are streaming down my face. I have no paper to write a note, so i take my knife and write my note in blood. Just enough blood to make words. Not enough yet to bleed out but just enough to make a light stream. Im sitting in the dirt next to my bloody note, leaning on the railing i get up and go towards the bridge. Im staring down at the water. Im about to jump when i feel someones hand on my shoulder and a whisper in my ear. "I love you. Please dont do this.. yet." It was Grady. He wrapped his arms around my chest and held me while I sunk to the ground. He went down with me and held me there. After a while he got me calm enough to stand then took me back to his tent so he could bandage up my wrist. While he was fixing up my wrist he told me. "If you promise not to kill yourself and you make it back to town with me in one piece, I swear I'll make it worth your while." That night i went to bed, laying my head on his chest falling asleep to my tears streaming down dripping on his shirt, and hearing his heartbeat, putting me to sleep.
Day 11: Another day. I was sure i would've died in my sleep. Either from the peacefullness or the blood flowing out of me. We stole a transit bus, and headed off to the north end for food. When we first entered the north end we saw the mini block of fast food chains. All resturaunts that id applied to but been rejected from. Once walking in all spiffied up looking for a job, now in torn up clothes covered in blood at the sleeves, stealing food from the once very busy resturaunts. We decided to sleep in the bus tonight. We'll find a hangout tomorrow.
Day 10: We're headed towards Central and stop at this horse barn place. We park the bus in the back and in the field where the horses should be, theres dead horses with human hands in their mouths. Grady runs to vomit. We place our stuff in the tack room and decide to go exploring, looking for neighborhood houses we can ransack. This is Stephanies old hood. It hasnt changed much. Its still full of grodiness and STD's. We walk by the pool which is about ten feet away from her house and peer through the gate. We can see at least twenty of our old school mates which are now zombies. Half of them of making out with each and having a grind fest. The others are all sitting in a corner fighting over who gets the next hit off of the blunt. Grady being the rebel he is he decides to hop the fence and disturb the zombies. He leads them outside, like cows getting ready for slaughter. Jinx thinks their brains are too fried to even try and kill us and suggests we have some fun with these idiots for once. We ended up having a huge dance party. Like in the Michael Jackson music video. All was well until Stephanie just had to gangnam style and ended up hitting a zombie in the face. Lets skip the humiliating parts of being beaten and almost killed by the stupidest people on this island, and leave it at my head was slammed into the basketball court hoop and i passed out. I woke up the next morning with a lack of memory and a headache to match. Day 6: Apparently i was blacking out on and off for four days because when i woke up Grady, Steph and Jinx told me id been asleep for days. I woke up on the floor of a very colorful room. There were baby toys on the floor and everything was pink... we're in a daycare?! Stephanies holding baby Aubrey and rocking back and forth while Jinx is staring dreamingly into both of their eyes. The two of them would make such great parents. As stephanie goes to reach for a binkie for Aubrey and Jinx goes to look for diapers, I watch in slow motion as Aubrey goes to bite Stephs breast. I pick up aubrey and set her on the table. Stephs calm... which scares me. She blames Aubreys biting on teething and wanting milk which she should be getting from her mom. The bitemarks not normal though. Theres teeth marks. Aubreys only a couple of days old... Jinx looks at stephs boob and realizes the bite marks turning green. Then we all hear this hissing.. its aubrey. Stephanie for some reason thinks she needs to be held and holds her again. Aubrey yet again goes in to bite stephanie. She tries to fricken bite off Stephs tit. I swear this kids crazy. I grab Aubrey from her and as i look in her eyes they turn grey and she looks dead... shes a zombie! Which means so will steph. Steph whisks aubrey from me and holds her up to her face, and calls her a little shit. Then throws aubrey threw a glass window. She got glass in her neck and bled out on the concrete parking lot. Steph now has twenty four hours to live until the disease takes over.
Day 5: I felt this heaviness on my chest. We decided to get out of the preschool and hide in the High school, right back where we started. I spent the night walking around the school, sliding my fingers along the brick walls, wishing for tomorrow to never happen. That somehow the morning never comes, a comet wipes us out as if we were never here. That we'd become specks of dust that would be picked up by the breeze. That we wont have to kill Steph tomorrow. My thoughts were disturbed by the weight of stephs body sitting on me. She leaned into my face and told me to follow her. I followed her into the biology room. We sat there for a minute. In silence. Then i bursted out crying. I started sputtering out this long garbled list of all of these things.. which steph couldnt figure out, because she put her hand on my mouth. I calmed down. She looked into my eyes and told me that tomorrow she wants us to kill her before she changes. She wiped the tears off of my face, and told me that theres something shes wanted to do for a while and now that shes dying she might as well do it now. Normally Steph would barely be able to pick me up if it depended on her life, but this time it was as if she carrying a bag of bread. She sets me down on the lab counter. The metal handles controlling the air and gas lightly digging into my back while steph dry humps me. I grab at the collar of her shirt and pull her in closely. We're laying her destroying each others faces. She tells me shes been waiting to do this for a while. Now im straddling her. I rip off her shirt, ignoring the buttons, i finger her, she scratches me to the point theres almost blood drawn. She knocks me off of her, and gets back on top. I cannot believe i just had sex with my best friend... now i have to kill her. Reality comes back into play after we're done and we both realize what must be done. As we go down the hallway she asks me if im coming.. i tell her ill be down soon. I watch her curvy body move down the hallway and out of my site. Then the tears start to fall.
Day 3: Me and Steph agreed to forget that last night ever happened. I was okay with that. All I wanted was to spend my last few minutes with her. I couldnt be angry. The four of us decide that no ones at the school anymore so we leave our weapons back in the band room that we were hiding in. Me and Grady have joined hands, and so have steph and jinx. In a row of twos we walk across the street in complete silence. The only weapon we have is a gun with one bullet. We open the doors to the gym and half the footballs team dead on the glossy gym floor now stained with blood. Without saying words we line up in a row to say our goodbyes. Grady says a quick goodbye and hug. Jinx holds onto Steph for what seems like an eternity, and then makes out with her one last time, feeling up her skirt for a memory that'll need to last a lifetime. Then I was next. There was no crying. There was no long teary goodbye with lots of hugging. It was a short hug, and a minute long speech of goodbyes, so we could control ourselves. She made sure to tell the guys to make sure that i didnt kill myself after she died. Jinx got the shot ready to go and handed me the gun. Stephanie was standing under the basketball court ready and waiting. I had the gun pointed at her... hand shaking.. i couldnt do it. I just couldnt. While we were deciding who would shoot her, Steph was dancing around to gangnam style.. i think she was in shock or something.. but then while she was singing Goodbye My Friends Jinx pointed the gun, tried not to look at her face.. and pulled the trigger. I dropped to my knees. I watched her dead body hit the floor. Tears streaming down my face. I take the ipod that was playing her song and throw it against the brick walls, it was smashed into hundreds of pieces. I look to the left of me and Jinx is sitting in the corner with the gun, crying hysterically. Before we knew what he was doing, he told us "this is all going to be a dream, a bad bad dream." Then when we asked what he meant he coldly told us "I died of a broken heart, this is just my way of speeding up the process." Then he took a bullet out of his pocket, loaded the gun, put it in his mouth and blew his brains out. Day 2: Since I kept that promise with Grady, he held up his end too. One minute I was sitting on the ground cradling Stephs dead body, getting blood in my hair, then the next me and Grady were having sex. It began in the boiler room. We were laying on this mattress.. I was on top of him. We were making out. I kissed him from his lips, to his neck stopping to bite him, sliding my hands up and down his muscular chest while i bite his lower lip. I go down his happy trail and stop. I put my mouth on the zipper of his pants and pull down slowly... I slip my hands into his pockets and pull off his pants. I go down on him. Hes breathing extremly heavy.. i start to use my hands... he seems to enjoy that because hes breathing as if hes having an asthma attack or something. After I've tickled his fancy I decide to leave him in there. I run up the stairs and go to my locker. My "outfits" in there. I run into principle beanpoles office and get dressed. Im wearing a black and neon green teddy that barely covers me. Theres lace on the top and on the bottom, and it looks like a corset on the back. With that im wearing a little black bow tie and bunny ears. Then to finish off my look my glossy boots and the perfect shade of lip stick. Then i send my voice over the school. Grady if you can hear and you better be able to hear me, i suggest you get your muscular butt up here and check out my new outfit. He races himself up the towards the office.. and looks mersmerized. Im standing in front of him nose to nose at first, then back up so he can see me. I sit myself on the recepcionists desk, and seductively place a lolipop into my mouth. He walks calmly over to beanpoles desk and swipes every piece of paper off of the desk. He comes around the counter and wraps his arms around me. Then carries me to his desk, sets me down, and just destroys my everything. The feelings insane. Its like we're on fire.. but in the best way possible. Our bodies are tingling with a heat. Its that feeling you get when you've been playing in the snow too long. Afterwards we get into our makeshift bed together. We're cuddling. Theres a chill in the air, hes got his arms wrapped around me and we're sharing body heat. I hope he feels as safe as I do, cuz i could honestly stay the way we are until forever. Then I notice the bite mark on his neck. Its got to be mine. Im the only one in the school. It has to be mine. It just does.
Day 1: Im afraid to be alone now that Stephs gone. She was my best friend, my lover, and my rock. I cant even let Grady go to the bathroom by himself anymore. While we were discussing what we were going to do next Grady told me that he had to piss so i went with him. The bite on his neck had turned a green and black shade. I looked at his eyes and they turned from their normal brown to grey black. Gradys changing. He got bit. Its all downhill from here. We stare and he automatically knows what im thinking. He begs me not to kill him. And I know i cant. And besides I dont wanna be the last one on earth. After hours of sitting on different sides of the room, I figured out a plan. It wasnt foolproof but it was a plan. He had two bullets left in his stash. I decided what we would do. Since he didnt want me to kill him, and I couldnt kill him. The best idea was before Grady goes through the change have him kill me, then he'll just shoot himself. And it'll all be finally fucking over. So as i write in this journal. Im telling who ever finds this that we were the last ones here. And that i pissed in beanpoles drawer.. just saying. Hello to the new people that are reading this. And goodbye to everything on this fucking planet of death...

End file.

Zombie Love Story? by Emo Emmy


Family

**God help me, I wrote a Zombieland fan fic O.o I can't help it, this movie rocked!! Just wanted to try my hand at it :D Hope you all like it!!**

**I own nothing!!**

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It had been six weeks since Pacific Playland, six weeks since they had all settled on traveling together. There was no more talk of splitting up, of going on separate paths, after all, none of them had no place to return to. They really didn't know where they were driving to either, just a long stretch of open road in between the zombie-filled cities and nameless towns that littered the highways. After they'd left the amusement park, they spent about two weeks driving around the rest of California, collecting weapons, tools, and anything else that would aid in their survival. One of the other great things about Zombieland, you never had to worry about paying for anything, there was no one left to care.

When Little Rock turned thirteen, Tallahassee had taken her into a jewelry store in a larger city just north of Sacramento and let her pick one thing from the broken counters. Wichita had told him about her little sister's fascination with the costume jewelry they'd used in their cons and he took it from there. Out of all the glittering jewels and diamonds in the store, Little Rock found a sterling silver locket and carefully looped it over her head, gazing down at the shining silver as it hung against her dirty clothes.

Tallahassee was surprised; he had been convinced the little girl would go crazy in the deserted jewelry store. Hell, his ex-wife used to get stir crazy when the commercials would come on the TV. They hadn't stayed married long enough for him to ever have to worry about indulging that fantasy of hers. He's bought the engagement and wedding rings out of obligation when he found out she was pregnant with Buck. After he was born, she just up and disappeared one day, leaving him with a one month old infant and a job that barely paid enough for the both of them. It had been hard raising Buck alone but it was even harder losing him. That alone was what nearly did him in.

It was only after they'd been together for a while did they start opening up about their families. Columbus was always the open one, encouraging them to talk about a past they would sooner forget. He told them about his neurotic family and all their phobias, how they were borderline agoraphobic and would only leave the house on certain occasions. Even though he tried to play it off, there was still the faint hope that maybe they were still alive since they, like him, avoided people like they were zombies even before they were zombies.

Tallahassee gave the skeletal details of his brief marriage and kind of left it at that, any questions were met with one or two word answers followed by an impressive string of curses. His ex-wife was old news, someone he wanted to forget about as soon as possible.

Little Rock talked a lot about her time with Wichita; it was clear she didn't remember much about her parents. Wichita remained impassive and silent on the subject for most of it, offering a few randoms comments here and there to appease Columbus who would look to her occasionally. It was a pretty dead conversation as far as she was concerned. Columbus let it slide; there was no point forcing anyone to talk about anything. The last thing the needed in this zombie-infested world was to have a falling out because of dredged up bad memories.

Later that night, after Tallahassee and Little Rock had fallen asleep in the backseat, Wichita returned to the earlier conversation. She began speaking quietly, almost to herself, and Columbus sat up a little straighter to listen to her. Apparently, her parents were in and out her entire life, between the drugs and alcohol they were constantly in trouble with the police. When Little Rock was born, her mother went into rehab which lasted a grand total of two months before everything fell back to the way it was. Their father became more violent, their mother more and more trashed out with each passing day, and finally Wichita couldn't take it anymore. She took Little Rock when she was about two and they left, never looking back. They had been on their own since.

It was tough to talk about and ever tougher to listen to. Columbus wished he had something to say to make it better but he didn't. In fact, the only thing he could think to say would have made it worse so he kept it to himself. She gave him a half-smile and told him not to worry about it, there was nothing that could have been done. It didn't make him feel any better.

They stopped in Carson City the next day, knowing they all needed some decent sleep and frankly, no one wanted to drive anymore. They found an abandoned house in the middle of the city and decided to make camp for a few days. There was a partially eaten leg in the doorway but no one even flinched at the sight of it; another thing about Zombieland, you eventually become comfortably desensitized to the horror around you.

The spent the rest of the day barricading the doors, boarding up the windows and all the usual routines that went along with staying in a new house in a zombie infested world. They slept in shifts, one guarding the door at all times and listening for any movement through out the house. A few of the lights still worked and, ironically enough, the television but it was nothing but static. Still, there was a DVD collection and enough food to give them the break they needed for a few days.

Little Rock had begun busying herself with scissors and paper and various other crafts objects she could find left in the house. Wichita asked what she was doing but her sister would always give some half-assed answer and continue on her way. She wouldn't reveal her project to Columbus or Tallahassee either (something which damn near drove the older man up the wall).

After about three days in the house, they reloaded the car and pulled away, taking care to hit the zombie mailman that raced toward them. With his body slamming into the front of the car and bouncing off the wind shield, they drove off toward the edge of town.

Little Rock leaned over the seat after a few minutes and dropped something into Wichita's hand. It was the locket, still shining brilliantly in the mid-day sunlight. Wichita quirked an eyebrow and opened it, smiling warmly as she did. Inside was a small collage of driver's license photos that she had managed to steal from Wichita, Columbus, and Tallahassee. There was an old school ID picture of her as well, placed in the middle and glued to the rest. This was their family now, their little rag-tag group that had come together by fate and chance. Wichita smiled and passed it to the other two, watching as they took in the project the youngest had been toiling over. Somehow, that tiny locket had become the link that tethered them all together.

Zombieland was a place where there were no homes, there were no more familiar faces or warm greetings, but it wasn't a place without family.

* * *

**So what do you think? Good? Bad? Let me know!! :D**

End file.

Family by LaylaBinx


Going Home

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Zombieland and am not using this work of fanfiction for monetary gain.

It takes them a couple of days to really calm down after Pacific Playland. They're all a little jumpy at first - Tallahassee maybe because of the Twinkie - but when they pass Las Vegas without incident, everyone relaxes. 265 miles is a long way to go without seeing a zombie, after all, and they welcome the break.

"Though it's odd," Columbus thinks, "to have not seen a single zombie freak in so long."

The roads aren't empty, per say. Cars litter I-15 and bloody, broken glass coats the pavement at a regular basis. But no zombies. No bodies at all actually, which strikes Columbus as eerie. "A ghost town" he remembers someone saying, and then puts it out of his mind with a quick shake of his head.

Things pick up a little around Illinois. Tallahassee manages to kill one of the mother fuckers with a stapler, which is impressive, to say the least. Wichita and Columbus make out in the corner of whatever building the gang happens to scavenge through, but the other two never comment. They don't _really_ know where they're going, but Northeast is a pleasantly vague destination that suits all of them just fine.

Eventually, the black GMC passes a "Welcome to Ohio" sign that's bent at the top right corner. Columbus sucks in a breath. "This is it" he thinks, unconsciously sinking a little in the front seat. Afterall he's been through, fighting clowns and saving Wichita and seeing countless smashed faces, the thought of finally seeing the truth about the fate of his hometown scares him shitless.

"What's that quote?" he wonders absently, "A prophet is honored everywhere except in his hometown?" That sounds about right. He taps his foot impatiently.

Everyone else in the car remains silent and on edge, hoping for the best but knowing the inevitable. Columbus follows Rule #26 (stay positive) and keeps one desperate thought in the back of his mind that the city could be unmarred by the plague. It shines like a light amidst a pessimistic storm.

His parents are zombies.
Everyone he used to know is dead.
He will never again be hugged by his mother.

And he wonders which is better: to have high hopes and enjoy the comfort of delusion while he can, or to expect disaster and honorably accept the worst case scenario later.

Just outside of the city limits, he still hasn't made up his mind.
Just inside of the city limits, he knew he should have picked the first option and at least basked in positive emotion a little before all hope was lost.

Because Columbus, Ohio is far from unaffected. It's completely in flames.

"Jesus, Wichita was right," he thinks as he watches the smoke cloud climb from the cluster of downed buildings off the highway. And all of a sudden he doesn't think he can go any further. He can't bring it upon himself to see his house. He can't find the strength to look for his parents. He holds no more delusions about them being ok in this orange, blazing holocaust. No one could survive the raging fire. And if they did, the only thing waiting for them in the fresh air would be ravenous cannibals.

"Stop the car," he says, panicking, "Stop the FUCKING car!" as he frantically unbuckles his seat belt. He barely gives Tallahassee time to come to a complete stop before he trips out the door and runs at a dead sprint to the highway barrier. He yells as loud as he can.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" he lets out all of the panic, all of the tension, and all of the stress he'd been feeling for the past few horrible months. He yells for his old family and for his new family and for himself, who will never again carry the hope of maybe having a place to go back to. It's gone, and he screams until his voice gives out, his hands clutching the concrete under them and his body hunched over the barrier.

Afterward he can feel tears on his face and a hand on his shoulder. He lets Wichita lead him back to the car, where he climbs in the backseat and digs his face into the crook of her neck.

Tallahassee does a K-turn and drives in the opposite direction. No one cares to mention that he's driving the wrong way on a divided highway.

They find a nice abandoned suburban two-story for the night and settle down in the living room, not bothering to go to the numerous separate rooms to sleep alone. Not that it matters. Columbus can't sleep regardless of the arrangements. He thinks only of the towering inferno that was once his home.

When he turns over he can see that Wichita is not in her sleeping bag, so he stands up and tours the house looking for her.

He finally finds her in the master bedroom, gazing into the mirror of an en suite bathroom. He takes the 4 large steps necessary to bring himself right behind her and she turns to face him, opening her mouth to speak.

"I'm sorr-" she manages to get out before he closes her mouth with his. He deepens the kiss immediately, aided by her slightly open mouth, and she kisses him back after only a small moment of hesitation.

She overwhelms him; he can feel every line of her body pressed against his as he cups her cheek with one hand and grabs low on her hip with the other. He's backed her against the sink, and though he likes the position, he unconsciously inches backwards toward the bed. They don't speak as he takes off her jacket and lies her down on the mattress. They shed their clothes quickly; their haste paused only when Wichita lifts her hips for easier jeans removal and when Columbus slips on a condom (one of the many things he took from Bill Murray's mansion).

And then he's inside her, and it feels...well it feels even better than he'd ever thought it would. It is, after all, his first time, and the only reason he doesn't cum right away is because he still can't get that image out of his head. The fire, the bodies, the people he once knew foaming at the mouth. Moving within her helps. So does hearing her gasps in his ear and feeling her nails dig into his back. But soon he can't take it anymore even with the mental distraction - the wetness and heat and sight of Wichita under him too much - and he comes apart with his head buried in her neck and his hand on her ribcage, just under her breast.

The climb down from his physical bliss is awkward as he pulls out and flops next to her, gingerly pulling off the condom and throwing it in a wet heap somewhere on the other side of the room. He wipes his hands on someone else's blanket and concentrates on not looking at Wichita.

"Hey," he hears, and feels her hand on his shoulder again. He looks at her and it hits him with a dull throb, "This is why I'm alive," he realizes, "the only reason I haven't thrown myself off a building." And before she can say anything else, whether it's another apology or a joke or anything, he says,

"Bobby. My name is Bobby."

She smiles and kisses him softly on the forehead. They pull their clothes back on and sneak back into the living room. They fall asleep in the same sleeping bag, not caring if the others give them strange looks in the morning.

**AN - **This is unbeta-ed as well as my first fanfiction, so please be kind. Anyone who desires to edit this or leave critique is welcome. The quote, for the record, is an approximation of a line found in The New Testament of the Christian Bible. An exact version would look something like, "But Jesus said to them, 'Only in his hometown and in his own house is a prophet without honor.'" Matthew 13:57. I felt like it would be something Colombus would randomly remember from his education, even if it doesn't necessarily have anything to do with his situation. It's use here was not meant to be religiously symbolic in any way, so please do not take offense.

End file.

Going Home by theperfectdozen


Seducing Columbus

Seducing Columbus by patricia51

(Sequel to "Doing Wichita". Wichita decides that it's high time to move her romance with Columbus to the next level. Wichita's POV.)

I realized I was holding my breath as I watched Tallahassee and my sister drive away. Okay I'm always a bit nervous when she goes with him on one of his little expeditions. Today is not even one of the occasional zombie hunts he goes on when he's bored. We really do need diesel fuel for our generator and he had located an old truck stop on the interstate not twenty miles from here. We've all been there before and cleaned out the zombies weeks ago.

I remember to take a breath. I have to, I need the air, as I run quietly up the stairs to the second floor and out onto the porch there that overlooks the road. The dust trail left by Tallahassee's Escalade can still be seen rising through the trees. It veers to the left and I know that they're on the road leading down to the old country store we found when we left the city. Not too long now and they'll be on the hard top highway.

I wait, straining my eyes and occasionally remembering to take another breath of air. Finally the dust stops indicating their progress and that pretty well means that they won't be turning back because they forgot something. Tallahassee told me they'd only be gone a few hours. That gives me more than enough time. Today my biggest concern isn't that something will happen to Little Rock. I know he'll take care of her. My concern today is that they don't come back early.

Back down the stairs I hurry. I pause and listen. Columbus is in the kitchen. I slip closer and peek. He's busy arranging the canned goods he and I brought back from a trip yesterday. We went a different direction about forty miles and found an old grocery store. Three zombies total and we handled them without getting out of the car.

Tallahassee was disappointed that we didn't find any Twinkies. Columbus was happy that we found several twelve packs of Mountain Dew Code Red. We can't afford to run the generator all the time so we don't have refrigeration (besides which everything that requires cold has already spoiled) so he cools them a few at a time in the stream that runs behind the house.

It was, of course, Tallahassee who found the generator and hooked it up. He was glad it was diesel. I didn't understand that then but he explained it. Diesel fuel would still be around after all the gas was looted. Diesel engines were tougher than gas ones and would last longer.

It was while running the generator this morning that we discovered the fuel tank was down to less than half. By then we had run the pump to fill the water tank and heated water for cleaning up, for washing clothes (which task I had just finished) and more to the point of the moment for me, for bathing. I scampered once more up the stairs, scattering my clothes in the bedroom I share with my sister and hopped into the shower.

While I scrubbed myself I thought about Columbus and me. Who would have guessed it? The two of us I mean. I never have thought much about guys other than picking out the next one to "lose my engagement ring" in front of. Okay, that's not entirely true. I may not be entitled to wear white at my wedding, assuming such an event could possibly take place in this world we live in but I'm really not all that experienced. I never had sex with guys in order to set them up. Besides being wrong it's counterproductive anyway. It's the suggestion of sex, the HINT of sex that draws the guy's attention away from what he should be thinking about.

When I first met Columbus he was just another guy to take to the cleaners. Our car had broken down and we were hiding. Heck we were in the stock room of a grocery store that had several zombies in it. I had watched Tallahassee (I didn't know his name then of course) handle them and knew he would be hard to fool. The other guy was just someone along for the ride.

Well I was wrong. I first began to realize it when Tallahassee had disarmed my sister and I slammed on the brakes to cover him, in a panic that he would harm her. The verbal explosion by Columbus made all three of us feel just a little sheepish. And he got under my skin enough for me to panic and take off the morning after I nearly kissed him. Yet he came after us anyway and faced his greatest fear to rescue me and Little Rock. And what can you say about a sweet guy whose greatest wish was to brush my hair away from my ear? I've been falling for him ever since.

So, today is the day. I step out of the shower, dry off and after I make sure the hall is clear I head back to the bedroom. Waiting in the back of the closet is a short satin robe. I don it and fasten the tie around me. It's just long enough to cover my rear end but just barely. I shaved my legs this morning after Tallahassee announced his plans for the day.

Quickly I check myself in the mirror. I brush my hair and fix my face. Light makeup only, nothing heavy.

My heart is beating quite fast. I really, deep down inside, am a romantic at heart and what I'm planning is going to seal the relationship between Columbus and me. I wonder if my sister will mind swapping rooms with him. I could move into his but there's more room here.

I tiptoe down the stairs, pausing only to retrieve the secreted bottle of wine I hid earlier. I smile. It's the same vintage we had that night at Bill Murray's place. I carefully open the door and prop myself against the archway in the most seductive pose I can manage.

I clear my throat and he turns to face me. His eyes get big and he nearly drops his Mountain Dew.

"Don t make me drink alone," I say in my huskiest voice, holding up the bottle of wine. Then I turn and slowly walk away, looking over my shoulder as I do. He's right behind me and yep, his eyes are fastened on my legs and rear end.

We SHOULD mount the stairs to a bedroom but by the sound of his heavy breathing, which by the way is mingling with mine, we might not have time. I pivot into the living room and the over stuffed couch. Turning to face him I balance the wine bottle in one hand and tug the tie to my robe with the other. I shrug my shoulders and the satin pools at my feet. I smile.

Thud.

Oh my. OH My. OH MYYYYYYY. I hastily set the wine bottle down, blessing the fact that I hadn't opened it yet. Then I pick up my robe and slip it back on before dragging Columbus to the couch. Somehow I get him on it and pile pillow under his feet to raise them higher than his head. Then I wait for him to come around and try to decide what the heck I'm going to do now that my great plan has crashed and burned.

But how was I to know that Columbus would faint when he saw me nude?

(The End)

(Thanks to WyldCard4 whose nice review of "Doing Wichita" gave me the idea for this one.)

End file.

Seducing Columbus by patricia51


ZOMBIE HUNTER part 4

ZOMBIE HUNTER part 4

Max shot a zipline and went to a building to place the first charge. Then he hopped onto another building to place a charge. Then he threw a grenade in a truck that blew up next to a gas station causing a big explosion. Zombies came stampeding and max got on his zipline to escape the charges. The charges went off killing tons of zombies and made a barricade. Squads of 15 set out to kill zombies who got in the barrier and find max. Max climbed rubbish and saw a flare set off probably for him to find. He ran to it but saw only dead soldiers. He walked to his base and met up with an army jeep. He saw Jeremiah was in it and said, "Why are you here sir". Jeremiah said, "Were going to leave you me and a few troops". "Where you can't do this what about everyone else", "To bad for them lets enjoy are escape". Max jumped out and rolled to a stop to see the base blow up and fall. Max ran to the wreckage and saw Zack limping to him.

End file.

ZOMBIE HUNTER part 4 by LoganNOVELZ101


Zombie Kill of the Week

Tallahassee's zombie kill for the week was a little old lady who had crawled out of a broken fridge at a supermarket. He had been reaching into the fridge for a coke when out popped the old lady, blood running down her face, brandishing her purse as if it was the ultimate zombie weapon of doom. She smacked him around the head with it and he swore. Wichita laughed as she saw Tallahassee, cool as anything, take a large screwdriver out of his pocket and shove it into her temple.

"Bitch," Tallahassee said. He ground the screwdriver in just a little bit more for emphasis.

Columbus looked closely at the old lady. She looked like she would have been one of those doddering types before the zombie apocalypse struck. Then again, before the zombie apocalypse, he probably would have helped her across the road and asked about her grandkids. She probably would have invited him back for a cup of tea and he would have been obliged to drink it even though he hated tea. He would have probably sat there chatting to her for several hours before going home to play World of Warcraft.

Now, Columbus took out his pistol and fired a couple of shots into her head. "Rule two," he said, kissing the barrel of his gun.

Wichita poked him in the ribs. "You and your rules," she said affectionately. "How did you ever survive before this?"

Columbus shrugged. He'd been asking himself the same question. "Dunno," he said, "but aren't you glad that you have me now?"

"Nope," Tallahassee growled, but Columbus ignored him.

-***-

Columbus's zombie kill of the week was a little girl wearing a fairy costume. He couldn't understand how she had managed to stay alive so long, but a double-tap to her head sent her tumbling off the rafters. She landed straight on a spike, causing blood to spurt all over him. Her pink fairy shoes glistened in the sunlight and the tiara sparkled.

"Y'know," Columbus said, as he kicked her just to make sure, "I kinda feel sorry for her."

Wichita rolled her eyes. "You're way too nice, y'know that?"

Columbus shrugged.

"Ew," Wichita told him as he tried to hug her afterwards. "Go wash up."

Obligingly, Columbus dumped some Purell on his hands. He rubbed them together vigorously, wrinkling his nose at the smell of alcohol. He wondered what they were going to do in a few years when all the Purell ran out. Even Purell had a use-by date.

"Wash," Wichita ordered. "With water."

With a sigh, Columbus went over and washed his hands. With water. He squeezed some more Purell on them afterwards just to make sure.

Wichita grinned up at him from where she was lazing about on a lawn chair. "Come here," she said, with a wink.

Columbus bent over to kiss her. She smelt wonderful, like freshly slain zombies and bubbling energy.

-***-

Little Rock's zombie kill of the week was the only planned one. They had all been teaching her how to drive.

"Be careful," Wichita ordered as Little Rock drove along the highway, swerving to pass the stationary cars by the side of the road. "Don't go above 70."

"Zombies up ahead!" Tallahassee shouted, as he leaned out of the car window. The blaring sound of his machine gun sounded in the darkness. The zombies turned their heads, looking rather creepy by the glow of their headlights.

"Say what," Columbus said slowly. "Little Rock, how about you take this one."

Tallahassee pouted. Or he would have pouted if he wasn't such a great big hulking man. Great big hulking men definitely did not pout, Columbus thought.

Little Rock frowned but nodded. "Well, okay," she said.

"Drive up to them," Columbus said, "and then open your door suddenly to knock them out. Then a double-tap to the forehead should do it."

"You and your double-tap," Tallahassee said with a snort. "She could just run them over with the car." He patted the car. "This car can stand it. She's a strong girl."

"The double-tap is safer," Columbus argued.

"But it means the door is open," Tallahassee pointed out.

Little Rock rolled her eyes. "How about I do both?"

Columbus watched with abject amazement as she proceeded to do exactly that. He hadn't realised, but Little Rock was probably going to turn out to be better than Wichita at killing zombies. That would be a mighty achievement.

"Atta girl!" Wichita crowed. "That's my sister."

-***-

Wichita's zombie kill of the week was a chainsaw. They came across a very nice, almost untouched hardware store in the middle of Kansas City at the beginning of the week and she had almost immediately pounced on the chainsaw.

"I've always wanted one of these," she exclaimed as she held it up.

"Good zombie killing device," Tallahassee grunted.

Wichita got to use her chainsaw almost immediately. As they were leaving the hardware store, a horde of zombies attacked them, blood dripping off their jaws and fingers outstretched, ready to dig into their soft vulnerable skin. With a few swipes of Wichita's chainsaw, zombie heads went flying. Wichita's eyes gleamed as she gazed around at the destruction. "Brilliant!" she exclaimed.

Little Rock giggled. "Quite a good chainsaw," she agreed.

Columbus nodded as he wrapped his arms around Wichita. He kissed her on the ear, relishing the smell of freshly killed zombies in the air. "We've done good these last few days," he murmured.

"Give it a few months," Tallahassee growled, "and America will be zombie free!"

Columbus tightened his arms around Wichita and hoped that Tallahassee was right. Then again, he thought, he enjoyed their current life. Once the zombies were gone, Columbus wasn't sure what he was going to do. He'd never thrived in a normal society but right now, as they were travelling across America, killing random zombies, he felt alive for the first time ever.

Columbus felt like he was thriving on this. Fresh air, wind at his back, and a trail of dead zombies.

This was life and he loved it!

End file.

Zombie Kill of the Week by Ayla Pascal


Rule Number Thirty Nine

Title: Rule Number Thirty Nine

Summary: Rule #39 in Z-land: Don't get in a separate car with Tallahassee. I learned this the hard way while traveling in a car with just him and I. [Tallahassee/Columbus]

Warnings: MALE/MALE RELATIONSHIP. LANGUAGE. IF YOU ARE OFFENDED BY EITHER OR DO NOT ENJOY THE PAIRING, DO NOT BITCH TO ME ABOUT IT. ALSO, THERE IS INSINUATED WICHITA/COLUMBUS, JUST SO YOU KNOW. AND IF YOU'RE LOOKING FOR PLOTLESS SMUT GO SOMEWHERE ELSE.

Disclaimer: I do not own Zombieland.

IIIII

Rule # 39 in Z-land: Don't get in a separate car with Tallahassee.

You see, we decided about a three months ago--yes, I count the days, if only so I can remember each holiday and my birthday--to get another car. It meant worrying about dividing up fuel but it also means more supplies. Since we have four people to feed and there's dwindling amount of food left in the States, we have to keep thinking about our survival. That shoots down the rule of "Travel Light", which I always favored, but I was overruled by the rest of the group (they don't follow the rules like I do).

"We need to stop in Dallas," says Wichita over the walkie talkie. I fumble with it, jumping at it's static. I had just gotten to sleep, too.

I push down on the button and say, "You are--You're not serious, right? I mean, I've heard that place is overrun--"

"We don't have a choice. My sister has the flu and she needs more fluids."

"I know she's sick, a-and believe me, I sympathize with that, but we need to think clearly with our heads, not our hearts."

"With our heads and not our hearts? What kind of bullshit are you tryin' to pull on Wichita, spit fuck?"

Ah, yes, the nickname. We always have to go to the nickname, don't we?

"Aren't we a little old for name calling?" I ask meekly. I'm not exactly Mr. Bravado around Tallahassee but I do try to send out more manly vibes so he doesn't pick on me as much, but I'm not sure if it's manly at all to be sending out vibes in the first place.

"We're stopping in Dallas and that's final." She must have forgotten to take her hand off the button because this comes through: "Just thank God that we're in Texas, in the heat, and not in the cold of Dakota where your flu could get worse, okay Little Rock? Please, hold on, we're almost to Dallas. Thirteen miles."

I can almost picture Wichita's soft eyes gazing down at her little sister, running her fingers through her hair. It was a nice image; not something you often see in Z-land. Although I would never run my fingers through Little Rocks hair, for many different reasons, but the top two being _hello, she's sick!_ Do you want to get the flu while in Z-land? You can barely run and if you get the squirts whilst escaping, well, you're extremely uncomfortable. And the reason is that it would be creepy, me being nineteen and her being twelve.

I see there's another an intersection up ahead and I say into the walkie, "I think we should go east."

Static, then: "What's east?"

"Um, hopefully not Dallas and some smaller town where there's not as many zombies."

"You don't understand the urgency of the situation. She's throwing up and she's dehydrated. She needs anti-nausea suppositories and liquids. Not soda, but water. Now gather up whatever courage you have and deal with the fact that we're going into Dallas."

I sigh. I guess I didn't want to run into any zombies today. It would be nice for one day--just one day!--to not fear for my safety or the safety of someone else. But, of course, Wichita is right. We have to do our best to get something for Little Rock. I feel protective of both of the girls and as a man it's my duty to protect the women . . . while hiding behind Tallahassee, because I'm still not too big on playing the hero like he is.

"Maybe we'll find some Twinkies," hopefully says Tallahassee.

"Why would they have Twinkies in a pharmacy?" I question.

"Boy, don't you know that Twinkies have healing powers?"

IIIII

I hold my shotgun close to me as we enter the Dallas city limit. There are signs lining the street saying CONTAGIOUS VIRUS IN AREA: DO NOT ENTER. If this were a cliche world, there would be a tumbleweed going across the front of our cars as we drive side by side down the pavement, searching for a pharmacy. It's a large enough city so I thought it would be overrun with those soulless creatures, flesh hanging loosely from their bodies, blood gushing from wounds and over their torn lips. I just gave myself the shivers thinking about it.

Tallahassee looks at me and says, "I think we need to have a chat, us two."

"Um, shouldn't we be looking for a pharmacy?"

"You can do two things, can't ya?"

"Suuure." I give him a sideways glance. I think I know where this is going, and I'm not particularly fond of it. Well, sort of not. Okay, okay, I enjoy it, but it took me a while to get used to the idea . . .

"Now you know I only pity fuck you," says Tallahassee, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel to a beat only in his head. "It's nothing personal. I just need to get my needs met, and you're a pretty convinient hole to put my dick in."

"Lovely imagery, Tallahassee," I drone.

"Oh don't be so mad," laughs Tallahassee. "I'm only telling ya the truth. Would you rather I lie? Besides, you know you enjoy our time together, more than I like if I'm being honest. But anyway my point being that I think we should, you know, do it more often?"

"And have the girls catch us?" I say, my voice a pitch higher at the thought. I glance out the window looking for our elusive pharmacy. "I'm supposed to be with Wichita. Not with you."

"You can be with Wichita all you want. I don't give two shits. But you remain with me, you got that? I don't have any other release."

"Well there's always--um--you know--"

"Masturbation?" he says.

"That. Yeah. Mmhmm." It's not that I can't say masturbation . . . it's just that I prefer not to. While people are around me. Or ever.

"Well lookie here, we have a genius. Don't you think I know that already?" Tallahassee reaches over and pats my chest in a rough way. I do like the way he lingered for a second, running his hand slowly down my chest to my stomach, but it only lasts for a moment. Then he pulls his hand away and I can breathe again.

Our "time together" was a complete fluke. We were all drunk (except for Little Rock, of course, we still have morals) and when we got into our separate cars to go to bed I ended up hitting on Tallahassee. In other words, I grabbed his crotch. I don't know why, or what the fuck I was thinking, or maybe not thinking at all, but dammit I wanted someone to be close to me and Tallahassee was the one within grabbing range. If Wichita had been in the car I'm pretty sure I would have hit on her too. I've always liked girls, but this was the first time I'd ever kissed another man. Apparently though it wasn't Tallahassee's first time. With all his tough talk I would have that he would be opposed to being "queer" but nope, he's been through this before. It went back to before his son Buck, he says, because after his son was born he didn't have time for anyone else.

But as it became more frequent we grew a strange connection. As much as it annoys him I've always been a cuddler, so he allows me to cuddle every once and a while. And as much as it annoys me he's pretty much a horny bastard, so I let him have his way with me whenever he wants (you don't deny Tallahassee anything. Ever.)

"I found one," says Wichita over the walkie. "Upper right corner. And we have a bunch of dead ones walking around to be prepared to march through them."

Tallahassee grabs the walkie from me and says, "I don't suppose that you would leave Jessie--" ("Nice try but that's a unisex name," I mumble and I get one of those Tallahassee stares that would give anyone nightmares) "--beside me to guard your sister, would ya? We'll storm the place, just you and me."

There's a moment of silence before, "Why may I ask would I do this?"

"Because you have better aim than Columbus and you don't flinch every time you fire a gun."

"Hey, I'm a nervous man!" I defend myself. "I can't help it if guns still terrify me!"

I do still have a long list of phobias . . . fucking clowns.

"Okay. But Columbus better do his job well," says Wichita.

"Time to nut up or shut up, pretty boy," chuckles Tallahassee. "Just be glad I saved your ass from going through them zombies."

I do like to think, in his own way, Tallhassee is trying to be protective of me. Maybe he's attempting to get me out of the zombies way so I don't get hurt. Then again, I could be much more of a wuss than Wichita and he'd rather not have to protect someone while trying to look for medication.

Yeah, that's probably it.

Sigh.

IIIII

We park two blocks away from the pharmacy. Wichita, in the car stationed next to us, has a pair of binoculars looking at the zombies. From what I can tell, there's about twenty of them, all fighting over a dead body. There's one standing on the outside with his head tipped back looking up at the darkening sky. If my eyesight was better I could tell whether or not if he was gurgling his own blood which I notice a lot of zombies seem to do.

"Be quiet so you don't attract their attention," orders Tallahassee. "Because if something happens to Little Rock, you know that if the zombies don't get you, Wichita will."

I gulp. I'm pretty much scared of the rest of my group - they're much more hardened then me. Even the twelve year old.

"Just be careful, would ya?" Tallahassee snaps. It's as though he's angry with himself for caring.

"Sure thing."

Slowly I get out of the car and lightly shut the door. Then I tip-toe over to the white Hummer and get in the back seat with Little Rock. Wichita exits the drivers seat and she smiles at me, her bright eyes boring into mine for only a moment, but that's all I need for my insides to turn to mush. I feel guilty for cheating on her with Tallahassee, but what am I supposed to do? I have feelings for the man, no matter how masochistic they might be.

She packs two guns into the back pockets and slings one over her shoulder. I can't deny that I find it attractive that Wichita is packing heat. Nothing like a woman with guns.

I realize that I'm staring so I get into the car and shut the door without only a tiny sound. I watch as they both head towards danger. Two people I care about much more than I care to admit, and it's hard to see them do this. But it's for Little Rock, so it's completely justifiable.

But I am in no way getting near the poor girl.

"You don't have to--" cough "--scrunch up so close to the window."

I realize I am huddled away from Little Rock, clutching my gun as though it's going to protect me from the germs she holds within every sneeze and cough.

"Um, we should slide down a little more. In case any zombies pass by or if those zombies by the pharmacy get curious about what's inside the cars."

So we do and we lay in our uncomfortable positions for about a minute or two when Little Rock says, "I feel awful."

"Of course you do. You have the flu."

"No, no. I mean that Wichita and Tallahassee are risking their lives for medicine and water. I mean, all I have is the flu. I'll get over it. I can drink soda. I don't have to--" cough, hack, sniffle "--drink water."

"Water's the best way to keep hydrated," I inform. "And besides, we need to get you back into tip-top shape as soon as possible. It's not good to be sick in Z-land."

"I know. Wichita said that too," she mutters. "It bugs me that I can't atleast see them. I want to have a peek."

"No, Little Rock," I tell her. "Stay down. If there are any rogue zombies around I have to shoot it, which will only tell more zombies that there's two delicious meals sitting helplessly in a car."

"You may be helpless but I'm not," she says, pulling out a pistol from within her blanket.

"My gun is bigger than yours," I huff.

"It's not the size that counts but what you do with it," she responds sagely.

We then hear gunshots and the gargling yelps of zombies. I hear Tallahassee whooping with every shot he makes. He's a loud one all right. As much as it pains me not to know what is going on out there we must take cover in the car, otherwise we'll be in big trouble. We can't exactly scurry off if a zombie comes a-knocking and these windows aren't thick enough to hold off a zombie for long. As I start thinking about this I begin to worry more and more about our safety but I've learned how to shut off my brain. I think back to times when I was happy. There aren't many. Mostly they include nights alone, playing World of Warcraft, eating stale pizza and drinking Code Red Mountain Dew.

Although I do have a few happy memories with these guys. They truly are like my new family.

Except I'm sleeping with one of them.

Creepy. Very, very creepy.

I shake my head to get rid of the thoughts swirling through my head. Even when I'm trying to be positive, I'm nervous as all hell. Thanks Mom and Dad. You really taught me how to live.

Eventually the gunfire dies down and we exhale, hoping no one besides the zombies is hurt. We don't hear any yelling besides Tallahassee's whooping so that's a plus. I look at Little Rock who looks like she's about to blow chunks.

_Oh God. I know I don't pray to you much, if at all, but if you have any mercy you'll not have her throw up next to me. Do not throw up next to me do not throw up next to me do not throw up next to oh God she's throwing up next to me._

She's trying to make as little sound as possible which I commend her for but does she have to _do it so close to me?_

Luckily Little Rock has a bucket so he's not spilling all over the nice leather seats. I tentatively reach out and lightly rub her back in circles, my hand barely touching her shirt, but I hope she finds it comforting atleast a little bit. She gives me a small smirk in recognition that yes it does help her out. But I'm soon overthrown with the smell of puke and I want to ralph myself, but I bite it back. I can't because I am a very loud puker. I moan, groan, and whine because it's like I can _feel _the germs screaming as they exit my body. It's a weird sensation and I've never admitted it aloud. I get enough weird looks as it is.

"I'm going to throw it out," I tell her.

"I don't think that's a good idea," says Little Rock with much reluctance.

"If I don't throw it out then I'm going to be sick. And you won't like me when I'm sick."

I set my double barrell next to me and grab the barf bucket by it's handle. I don't dare touch it's sides. I open my door slowly . . .

And then I hear a gut-wrenching growl.

"Oh shit," I whisper. I look up to see a zombie who has only it's legs, it's arms long gone, although some flesh at the shoulders still remains. Blood and pus seeps through jagged holes in it's face and from between it's tarnished lips protrudes a most vicious smell. So I do something that serves a double purpose; I get rid of the puke by throwing it into the zombies face. Thankfully it doesn't lurch forward but instead falls back, flopping on the ground like a fish out of water. It doesn't have any arms so it can't push itself up again.

Just as I think we're safe I hear Little Rock yell, "There's another one over here!"

I make the mistake of slamming the door, though I do have the sense to bring the bucket in with me. But the slamming of the door only announces to more zombies that there are live ones in the area. I grab my double barrell, if only for the security, and point it at the zombie as though I'll shoot. I can't -- we can't afford to break the glass. But it'll soon rupture on it's own with the way the zombie is bashing it's bloody nubs that shouldn't be called fingers against the window.

Then out of nowhere another one pops up at my window and starts screeching.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit!" I hiss to myself. I don't know what to do. I'm panicking, sweating, and hypervenolating. If these windows break, I'm dead. So fucking dead. Not because we can't shoot the zombies, but because we'll have to go through the process of finding another functional car, and it'll be all my fault.

Little Rock has her pistol in her shaking hands. She's coughing into her elbow and I can see her distress in her eyes.

_Tallahassee, where are you?_

_Bang! Bang!_

Two shots for the zombies by my side, and I look back. Tallahassee is standing there with his guns in his hands and a backpack on his back which I suppose is full of water, breathing heavy, looking at me with something in his eyes.

Concern.

_Bang!_

The one on Little Rock's side is taken care of thanks to Wichita.

"You take the other car. I'll take this one. We don't need to be here any more," says Tallahassee to Wichita, who nods, smiles sadly down at her sister and motions for her sister to roll down the window. When Tallahassee starts the car she rolls it down and throws her some anti nausea pills.

"I thought you'd rather have these than suppositories," she jokes.

"Thanks, sis."

Then Wichita hurries into her car and is soon following us. I crawl into the front seat so Little Rock can stretch out and get comfortable, maybe take a nap. Which, as we go along, an hour whizzing by us like nothing she's finally asleep. And I'm able to finally relax, take in a deep breath, and get some sleep as well.

IIIII

It was a while before Tallahassee woke me up. Perhaps two hours or so. I jump at his touch but when I realize it's him, I actually lean into his hand which is placed on my shoulder. I'm hardly awake so it's not my fault that I want some attention. Tallahassee has the sense to pull away.

"We're stopping. We've got first shift."

"Great," I mumble.

I see Wichita pull over and we stop ten feet behind the car. There's no reason to wake up Little Rock, she's sleeping peacefully in the backseat, so we don't. We quickly exit the car and go to our designated car.

Wichita steps out and asks, "How is she?"

"She's fine. She's sawing logs in there," answers Tallahassee.

"I'm not that tired, Tallahassee. If you want to sleep in there with Little Rock I can't take first shift with Columbus," offers Wichita, and I can tell from the mischevious smirk on her face that she has no intention of watching for zombies while in the car with me.

"No. We can handle it," says Tallahassee, sounding very possessive.

"Okay. Night." And she gives me a peck on the cheek that makes me feel like the biggest pile of shit in the world. Then she walks towards the other car while Tallahassee and I get in ours.

There's a couple minutes of silence and then Tallahassee says, "I can see how much you like her."

I give him a sideways glance. Where the hell could this be going?

"If--" He coughs uncomfortably and fidgets in his seat. "If you only want to fuck Wichita, I understand. It's not like you're used to sleeping with another man. Hell, I'm still not sure if you swing both ways."

"I don't," I say. "But . . . for you I do. I _am_ attracted to you. Even when I first met you, I was . . . well, I felt a connection."

"Don't make this about connections," he sneers. "Us? We have no connection. What I do with you is purely animal instinct. Fuckin' isn't about connections."

For some reason I flare up at this statement. This man claims he doesn't care for me, or anyone, but -- "I saw how concerned you were about me after you shot those zombies. You do fucking care, so stop acting like such a god damn hard ass and nut up or shut up!"

I throw my gun in the backseat and reach out, my lips connecting with his. I'm not a rough kisser, I've always been gentle, but I'm kissing so harshly it's as though I'm trying to communicate my frustration through the kiss. Trying to message to him how much I fucking care, and how much he cares about me, whether he likes to admit it or not.

Apparently me making the first move turns him on because he kisses back with immense fervor. I loose control and shiver as he bites at my bottom lip, pulling back on it and when he lets go, I push myself forward to try and connect again but he pushes me down underneath him. His voice is gravelly as he grunts, "Get in the back seat."

I shakily grab my gun and put it where I was sitting, then climb into the backseat. There is no question of who will be on top. Tallahassee always has to remain in control. If I try to switch, he'll reprimand me by only prolonging the foreplay, which I fucking hate.

"Sho-shouldn't we be w-watching for zombies?" I ask as he lifts up shirt, then bringing his hot mouth down onto my stomach. I slightly arch at the sensation rippling through my body as his tongue plays with my skin, suckling, nibbling.

"This won't take longer than ten minutes," he grumbles. Tallahassee smirks, grabbing my shaking hands and holding them high above my head. Like I said, he's an utter control freak.

"Tallahassee . . . " I moan when he takes a nipple into his mouth, teasing the nub by flicking his tongue over it. He uses his free hand to grab my crotch, teasingly rubbing across my jeans, in the most unbearable way. I can feel myself hardening under his touch. "Tallahassee, j-just . . . " I can't even get a damned sentence out.

"You're so easily overloaded," he laughs. He squeezes my privates and I jerk upwards. "Now, tell me what you want me to do."

"J-jerk me off." I have the sense not to say "Fuck me" because his thrusts are very hard.

I watch through clouded eyes as he smirks, "Jerk me off, _what?"_

"Jerk m-me o-off, _please_," I urge.

He brings his mouth down to my neck, trailing up my jawline, eventually meeting with my mouth once again. I kiss back fervently and when our tongues meet a spark ignites within me. My groin starts to ache with the want--no, the _need_-- that I am feeling right now. I can't possibly feel any hotter than this, can I?

But then Tallahassee takes it up a notch, reaching down within the confines of my jeans for my hardened member, and I whimper when he runs a finger over the tip. He lets go off my hands and runs his thumb over my bottom lip slowly with his right hand and grabs my dick with his left. I reach up and start to run my fingers over his smooth chest. I guess I had been so focused on what I was feeling that I didn't notice him when he had taken off his shirt. I grab onto his shoulders and squeeze as hard as I can to get some pressure out of my body because he still hasn't started to stroke yet.

Tallahassee crushes his mouth into mine, demanding entrance into my mouth with his tongue which I all-too-willingly give, and then he begins the agonizingly slow strokes. I want to tell him to hurry the hell up but he's successfully silenced me with his demanding kisses. I moan into his mouth hoping he'll get the message but it's as though I said nothing at all. Tallahassee starts to go faster and I buck, hoping to speed along the process. He's most likely hurrying this along so I can return the favor; I can feel the hard lump between his legs with my knee.

As he said before, I'm easily overloaded. It doesn't take much to make me come. So after a minute of vigorous stroking I'm hitting climax; a wonderous, too-good-to-be-true feeling that I thought I would never have in Z-land. But thanks to one horny kick ass, Twinkie-loving zombie killer he made it come true.

Tallahassee covers my mouth with his hand to muffle my pleasured cry. Then he sits back and watches as I try to catch my breath.

"You're not very good at handjobs," says Tallahassee, "but what about blowjobs?"

I'm stammering even before I form a sentence in my head. "I-I've never--I mean, I--"

"There's a first time for everything."

"I can't. I'll just jerk you off--"

"You're still _shaking_," Tallahassee points out. "I don't want to feel like some seventy year old is jerking me off."

"I have a bad gag reflex," I respond. "I even gag on toothpaste. Nasty stuff."

"Then what the fuck am I supposed to do, Sally? Do it myself?"

I hate it when he calls me girls names. I snap back, "Go ahead then. We shouldn't even be doing this. I-I mean, there are cannabilistic freaks running around! How can we even _think_ about sex when--when our lives are at stake?"

"You're only saying that because you got your needs taken care of. Me? I'm still as hard as a rock over here."

"Look, Tallhassee, I'm sorry." I sit up and look him in the eyes. "Maybe I'm just not cut out for this."

"For being gay? I swear, if Wichita had never came along, I would have sworn you were gay."

"Really?"

"You look like a bitch, you act like a bitch. Then I guessed you must have been some guys bitch in the past." He groans, fidgeting in his seat, trying to get in a more comfortable position. He must be throbbing painfully by now. I genuinely do feel sorry for the guy, especially when he did his end of the bargain.

"I'll try not to take that offensively," I say with a sarcastic smile.

"Get in the front seat and look for fucking zombies. I have to take care of myself."

"What? You can't stand me watching you do it?"

"No, it's too private." He sounds so serious that, well, it's hard to believe.

I blink. "Wait. What? You're kidding me. You've fucked me, jerked me off, let me jerk _you _off, but watching you _masturbate _is where you cross the line?"

"Look, you can mess with a mans dick, but you do not watch him while he messes with it himself. It's perverted."

I laugh out loud and nod my head. "Perfect sense. Mmhmm."

There's a moment of silence before he says, "Do I have to shove you into the front seat? Because I'll do it. When I am hard I am not one to be fucked with."

I take his threat seriously and climb into the front seat. I hear a zip, and then little moans and pants. He's not a very loud person when he ejaculates either. My face becomes red as I imagine how it felt when Tallahassee did fuck me; he did it hard, but it hit all of the right spots at the right times, and now I regret not letting him fuck me. Oh well. There's always next time. And I'm sure there will be a next time, and a time after that, because, well, I'm attached. Even though I shouldn't be, I am. I don't care if he says he isn't but I think he might be the littlest attached to me too. If him moaning my name while he jacks off is anything to go by.

Not very romantic, but what can I say? That's Tallahassee. He's not going to change for anybody, especially not his little fuck toy.

IIIII

IF ONLY I WERE A SLINKY SAYS:

I must use the noose, I can't kill you all with my hands! . . . Wait, what?

End file.

Rule Number Thirty Nine by If Only I Were A Slinky