It’s six o’clock in the morning. I haven’t eaten or slept in over 24 hours. My hair is a total mess and my makeup is streaked with tears. I look like the time a rainstorm rolled through one of my photo shoot in Maui and destroyed two hours of the stylist’s work. Only this time I’m downstairs with Ky racing to pack provisions in the middle of a fucking apocalypse!
Right now Chelsea is upstairs putting together some clothes for all of us as fast as she can, and Devin is keeping a lookout from the camera room just in case one of those things gets inside. In case you didn’t read our last post, there’s literally thousands of undead milling about my yard right now. Zombies or not, I’ve never seen so many people in one place in all my life, but here they are, gathered around my house like fucking groupies at a Justin Bieber concert!
If you saw me this instant you might think I look excessively calm for a girl about to get eaten, but I’m really freaking out on the inside. Chelsea would say that my inability to express fear is an expression of denial, but I say screw her. She lost any right to diagnose people when she used dish soap in the washing machine at age sixteen. Yep, that’s her. Now maybe you can see why I don’t trust her opinion on anything.
Now, lazy as this might sound, I’ve spent the last fifteen minutes eating low-fat string cheese while my 21-year-old college dreamboat crams tuna cans into our backpacks as fast as he can. He claims they’ll be essential to our survival once we’re on the road, but I have no idea in hell how he expects my scrawny shoulders to carry one of those things through droves of zombies whilst somehow remaining unscathed. I thought about telling him as much, but he’s too cute being manly for me to interrupt, especially when he keeps stopping to listen for unexpected visitors.
I guess maybe that’s what I like about him. The whole world is dying, we’re outnumbered with only a couple magazines of ammunition up our sleeves, we’ve just received word that the zombie virus is the doing of some military group approaching from the north, and he wants me to help fit more beans into a backpack?! Poor guy’s gone looney. Sooner or later I’m going to have to explain to him that we don’t have a chance at survival. At this point it doesn’t matter what we do or how well we do it. Eventually we’re all going to be dead.
Now, I’ve been meaning to tell you because all my friends are dead; I have an earnest confession to make. I know it’s a little messed up, given our current circumstances, but I need to get it off my shoulders once and for all. Being in the pantry with Ky while we’re on the brink of death is getting me going in a bad way. I’m not just talking hot and heavy, or lusting after a girlhood crush like I might have done my sophmore year. I’m talking, stick-my-tongue-in-his-mouth, let-him-pin-me-against-a-wall-with-his-dick-and-fuck-me-until-I-can’t-walk-straight, turned on. You probably think that’s weird, I’m sure, but near-death experience do that to people all the time. And don’t laugh, because I’m being truthful here. Since I was little, I’ve always had this secret fantasy to steal a guy away from Chelsea. It might sound cruel, I know, but before you go thinking I’m the world’s worst stepsister, hear me out.
In high school I was still too young to be a fair match for her size 34C man-killer chi-chis and perfect ass, but can you blame me? I’m 3 years younger! When she was popping her shirts and skirts just enough to give every guy on campus his own personal set of wet dreams, I was just outsizing my first couple bras. Needless to say, I couldn’t compete. Any guy who came to see me was really there for her, and any friend I ever had was just hoping for a beauty tip from the great Chelsea Cummings. I was always living in her shadow, always second best. Sure, she’s still hot as a rocket engine, and still got more admirers than she knows what to do with, but I’ve grown up a lot. She might not know it yet, but it’s a whole new ball game now. I’ll wrap Kyler around my little finger by giving him the time of his life, and then maybe she’ll see that she’s not the only Cummings girl who can turn a head. Besides, I’ve got to give it up to a boy at some point, right? I mean, a girl doesn’t work her panties off at the gym all year long just so she can die a virgin.
Don’t get me wrong, though. I’m not being careless about who I give my cookie to or anything. I really have been saving myself for the right guy and all that, but given the situation I figure that I need to choose between Devin and Kyler. When you look at it like that, there’s not much of a choice. Devin is a smart kid, I’ll give him that much, but he got hit with the ugly stick at some point in his life and I’m not about to give it up to Quasimodo. Therefore, my choice is easy, especially when I take Chelsea into consideration. Right or wrong for me as Kyler may be, he’s definitely the better choice. I’ve already seen his package, anyway, and it will do just fine. Not to mention that he’s cute in a sophisticated sort of way, sweeter than any boys I’ve ever dated, got nice abs, and even decent enough not to look at my boobs when I’m watching.
“There, that should do it,” Kyler says, snapping me back to reality when he zips up the last backpack. “Any last items you want to grab before we head up?”
I try to think of a sexy remark like Chelsea might use if she were in my shoes, but my tongue gets twisted and it comes out all wrong.
He raises an eyebrow in that cute way that floors my libido like the pedal of a Lamborghini. “What is it?” he chuckles charmingly. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
My mind is racing with questions. Does he want me? Will he even have sex with me knowing that I’m a minor? Does that even matter now that society is no more? Oh shit, I don’t have a condom. What do I do after he cums?
To make matters worse, he sees me stealing glances at his crotch and I begin to blush.
“Everything’s going to be alright,” Kyler says, shouldering the packs. “Just have faith.”
“It’s not that,” I tell him. “I . . . need something else.”
“Like what?” he asks.
I bite my lip and sway cutely from side to side.
“You really should tell me soon,” he insists. “If you don’t get what you want now, you probably won’t have another chance for a long time.”
I open my mouth to say what I need, but close it again half a heartbeat later, cursing myself for a fool.
Ky opens the door and steps out into the kitchen. “Speak now or forever hold your peace. We don’t have long before they find a way in, you know.”
I grab his arm before he goes and blurt out, “Cookies!”
“You need what?”
I glance at the ground bashfully. “I need your . . . I mean, some cookies.”
“You want cookies?” he asks, confused.
I nod. There’s no turning back now.
“Alright, cookies it is. Where do you have them hidden?”
I gesture up with my eyes and give him a half-smiles, perfectly aware of how my loose shirt slips off my shoulder to reveal a red bra strap and the brim of an overflowing cup.
The stillness settling about his almond eyes tells me he noticed. There’s no confusing the way they drink in my dark skin and hair, or how they meander hungrily down my slender curves. At first I don’t think he’s going to do anything, but he moves forward. My heart begins to pound like a drum with excitement. By the time we’re standing chest to chest, I’m breathless. I feel like he’s on the brink of sweeping me off my feet with a kiss, but he reaches up to the top shelf instead.
“You know,” he says once he has the box of Chips Ahoy in hand, “this all would be a lot easier if you—”
I can’t stand it anymore. I grab him by the belt and reel him in for a kiss. He hesitates for a split second and then proceeds to lift me off my feet. A fire ignites across every inch of my skin when our lips touch. Reflexively my hands begin figeting with his buttons.
“Are you sure you want this?” he asks when he comes up for air. “Chelsea might not like it.”
“I don’t care,” I lie, resuming where we left off.
After a moment of bliss, he pauses. “Shit, I don’t have any condoms—”
“Shut up,” I say, sending buttons bouncing across the floor when I decide that ripping his shirt off is quicker. It doesn’t matter, I think to myself. We’ll be dead soon anyway.
The warmth of my skin against his seems to rev his engine, sending his fumbling fingers to unfasten my shorts with the patience of a little boy at a candy shop. I smile giddily when they tickle against my tummy, thinking how utterly adorable he is to be so excited when he’s probably done this a dozen times. I can’t wait to see the look on Chelsea’s face when she finds out I claimed him first. She’s going to be so jealous!
I step out of my shorts when he finally gets them off, and I realize that the time for me to take the plunge is now. I’m down to nothing but my red bra and matching thong at this point, my tan skin glistening with sweat.
Kyler stops for a moment to admire me, his chest heaving up and down from all the excitement. “Holy shit, you’re hot,” he breathes.
I give him a cute shrug and close the door to the kitchen, ignoring the sound of zombies outside to keep this last perfect moment the way I always dreamed it would be. “I’m all yours,” I say as I unbuckle his jeans.
He pulls my thong down next and slowly penetrates my lower lips, sending a tremor of pleasure over me unlike anything I’ve ever felt. I want him to thrust deeper, but he just teases me with the tip until my cheeks and ears turn bright red.
I let out a whimper when he pushes it in further, feeling a rush of pain and pleasure so bitter-sweat I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. Every muscle inside of me sings high notes as he continues, and before long I feel a rush of emotion inside of me like I’m going to burn up. Just when I think it can’t get any better, he turns me around to go in and out of me from behind. I can’t help but gasp, a small trickle of blood running out where my hymen has torn. My breath is coming quicker than ever, caught up in my chest in the sort of way that sends goosebumps over your skin. I can hear him panting too, shuttering with arousal. Judging by how firmly his fingers are wrapped around my hips, I can tell he’s just as enthralled as me.
I want him deeper, so I bend a little further and get just what I want it. He’s so big now it hurts, but I can’t seem to get enough even still. He begins to go faster, and it feels so good inside of me that I let out a cry of pleasure. My fingernails dig into the wall I’m leaning against, ruining my manicure. For the first time ever, I don’t even care. All I want is more of him.
When I get close to climaxing again, he pulls out his penis and lays me down on my back like a perfect gentleman. Our eyes meet for an instant, and I see my lust and desire reflecting from his expression. I wrap my slender legs around his waist and pull him in to experience something I’ll never again be able to live without. He begins by going harder than ever. I’m making tons of noise now, and my body’s becoming so hot I feel like I’m about to go supernova. And then it happens. I let out a cry so intense my back arches. My mouth hangs agape as I shutter from the wave of sensation washing over me. Kyler seems to be experiencing the same sensation, pumping semen into me over and over again until we’re a sweaty mess.
When it’s over, we lay there for a moment, holding one another the way I always wanted a man to hold me. Beside us is an overturned box of Chips Ahoy. Kyler smiles at the sight of it and reaches out, his face red with fatigue. “You still want those cookies?” he asks breathlessly.
I accept one with a laugh, still unable to get over the fact that he’s inside of me. “Best. Cookies. Ever,” I say as I finger through my mess of sweaty hair.
“Yeah, that was pretty freaking hot,” he replies with a cookie of his own. “I’m, er, glad you liked it.”
I give him one last kiss before he starts to get off of me.
“We should keep this between us for now,” he says, pulling his penis out.
I nod in an attempt to keep my grin from spreading. “Probably a good idea. Chelsea isn’t going to like it one bit.”
He begins tugging on his pants. “What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her, I guess, right?”
I feel a stream of fluid running down my inner thigh when I stand, and I reach for a napkin. “Shit. Next time we really should use a—”
A noise from the kitchen silences my words.
Kyler’s eyes meet mine with dread. He heard it too. I’m completely naked with his sperm running down my legs and he’s shirtless. If the zombies have breached one of the entry points, we’re toast.
He grabs me by the waist and moves protectively between me and the door, his handgun at the ready. Get dressed, he mouths.
As quickly and as quietly as I can, I throw on my clothes. I wish I could relish just having lost my innocence like most girls do after their first time, but there’s no time. Right now there’s more urgent matters at hand, like staying alive to do it again.
Once I’m decent, Ky opens the door a stitch to peek out. There’s nothing in sight but polished granite countertops and hanging copper pots. Zombies are still banging on the front and back doors, but they haven’t quite managed to break through its four inches of solid oak yet, so we breathe a sigh of relief.
“Just the wind?” I ask hopefully.
Kyler scrubs his hand across his scruffy jaw. “Let’s hope so. Just be glad the windows are too high off the ground for them to reach.”
I nod absently as I rearrange my shirt. “Can I ask you a questions?”
“Was I . . . good?”
Kyler gives me that grin again and plucks me off my feet, my legs straddling him as he sets me on the countertop. “That was some of the hottest sex I think I’ve ever had.”
I grin. “Not bad for a sixteen-year-old?”
His face goes bright red, and he begins rubbing his neck. “Yeah, um, I kind of forgot about that part, but yes, definitely very hot for a sixteen-year-old.”
I nudge his shoulder playfully. “Don’t worry, I won’t turn you in for statutory rape. Not as long as you’re nice, anyway.”
“Yeah, well, all the same. Maybe we should keep this our little secret.”
My grin widens. “Of course,” I lie. “And, maybe if we don’t die today, we can do it again tomorrow?”
“We’re not going to die,” he says, hugging me. “I won’t let us.”
I close my eyes and reply with a kiss. One that ends up lasting longer than anticipated. It begins to feel like we might have a second bout of intercourse when my eyes open just in time to see a snarling corpse running at us from the basement stairwell.
“Shit, Kyler look out!” I scream, pulling him with me to the floor.
The engorged zombie is on top of us within seconds, drooling bloody saliva as it goes for a chunk out of my leg. I retract just in time to roll out of its way, but it lunges again. Kyler takes a shot with his handgun, nailing it in the spine, but that doesn’t even phase it for an instant. Two female zombie come barreling up the stairs before he can fire again, both missing chunks of skin and sinew where other zombies must have bit them.
“Kyler run!” I shriek, groping the countertop behind me for anything that might be of use.
He turns just in time to take down the first with a close range shot between the eyes. The second one is merely knocked off her feet when the slug takes her in the chest. Before she can get up, more are toppling up the stairs over her.
“Leave me the fuck alone!” I shout as the fat one approaches me. I slash with a steak knife in an attempt to frighten it away, but it doesn’t seem the least bit scared. It just embraces my cut into its belly and tries to bite my hand. I let go of the blade and jump back instinctively, barely evading its teeth. To my misfortune, it snatches my arm up before I can take another step, pinning me against the cabinets with its immense belly.
It falls in a heap of blood and brain fluid before it can taste my arm, its skull pierced from the bullet of a rifle.
“You’re sitting ducks down there!” I hear Devin say from the overhang overlooking the kitchen. “What the hell took you so long? We’ve been waiting up here for you for almost an hour.”
“We—er—got delayed,” Kyler says, falling back with me behind the counter.
“Delayed?” Devin asks with amusement, picking off another zombie with his rifle. “Why aren’t you wearing a shirt?”
“Now’s not the time to explain, Devin” Kyler groans.
He laughs. “Whatever. Just get your asses out of there before one of them bites you. The last thing we need is for one of us to get infected.”
“Where the fuck are we supposed to go?” I exclaim as I shoot another. “We can’t get to you and they’re crawling all over the back porch.”
“Not since they broke out that basement window and are lining up to get in. It’s just clear as day out there right now.”
“You want us to go out there?” Ami exclaims. “Are you crazy!?”
“Trust me. We’ll climb down from the balcony and meet you outside. From there it’s a straight shot to the Jeep. Easy as pie.”
“And if we get separated?” Kyler asks, switching magazines to fire off a few more rounds. “Where should we meet?”
“And if we do?” I shout back. “We need a backup plan just in case, and you know it.”
Chelsea comes into view beside him, her amber eyes scanning Kyler’s naked chest. She looks like she’s itching to ask about his shirt, but doesn’t. “My apartment should be the emergency rendezvous point,” she says plainly. “It’s on the way out of town, but please try to avoid getting ‘lost’ at all costs, Ami. This isn’t a joke. You two could die out there.”
“I’m not stupid, Chelsea.”
She purses her lips. “I know you’re not,” she says. “That’s what worries me. Just remember, I’ll never forgive you if anything happens to Ky. And I mean anything.”
“Whatever,” Devin says, picking off another couple of the creatures coming up the stairs. “We won’t need a stupid emergency rendezvous point if you just leave now. Go through that door and we’ll see you both in five minute.”
Kyler takes my hand and gives me a deep look. “You ready for this?” he asks as we sprint for the door.
I try to forget the sour taste Chelses’s words left in my mouth, but can’t. “Ky, just in case we die out there, I want you to know that you were my first.”
He puts his hand on the knob and begins to turn it. “If we’re being honest here, you should know that you were mine too.”
A smile sneaks across my lips. Before I can think of a reply, he’s already twisted the handle and taken us several feet into the courtyard. Things seem to be going pretty smoothly until we round a corner to find a horde devouring Ami’s pet poodle. We try to back up slowly, but it’s too late. We’ve been spotted and now dozens of them are coming our way.
I go stiff as a statue with fright. Strange as it is, I can’t even feel my toes. The only thing to bring me out of the trance is the foreign sensation of a tug on my arm and the seemingly distant sound of Kyler shouting: Run!