Thrillers (Sex & Violence Book 2) (3 page)

THRILL KILL THREESOME

Ronnie picked up Fitz and Gretchen just outside the hardware store. They had a pack of walkers in pursuit, but the killers moved with a practiced grace when it came to leaping into the car while it was still moving. Ronnie turned the car around and was speeding back towards the city when he realized that Gretchen had been bitten on the thigh. The two of them locked eyes and the driver could see the knowing look in Gretchen’s expression. Ronnie turned toward Fitz, and the big man had nodded at the driver and showed the two bite marks on his left arm. Ronnie then slowed the car to a stop and pulled down his jacket to show the hole in his shoulder. The three of them sat in silence for a long time, ignoring the encroaching sounds of the massing zombie horde that moved through the ruins on the road towards them. The usual banter was all but gone, and they all knew that soon it would be time to die. A lone walker approached the car from the road ahead, and the three of them could see that it was Miranda.

“Holy shit, is that who I think it is?” gasped Gretchen as she stood up in her seat to get a better view.

“Looks that way,” said Ronnie, choosing not to enlighten his comrades about his recent sexual encounter with the zombie, that knowledge he had decided to take to his grave, “Crazy.”

“Miranda. Wow, this is some real full circle shit right here,” said Fitz as he stepped out of the car hefting his crowbar.

“No point in going home I guess,” said Gretchen as she watched Fitz walk towards Miranda.

“Maybe this was always home,” muttered Ronnie as he watched Fitz approach Miranda, and the thrill killer managed to shut his eyes just before the crowbar obliterated Miranda’s beautiful dead face.

“Well what should we do with our last moments in this miserable turd of a world?” growled Fitz with faux bravado as he accepted Gretchen’s offered cigarette and took a drag, “Wanna go kill some more of these assholes before we die?”

“Nah, I think I’m done with that,” said Ronnie as he pulled a flask of liquor from his glove compartment, “I was saving this for a special occasion, might as well have it now.”

The three of them emptied the flask within a few passes as they drank and smoked in silence. The sun was beginning its downwards arc, and the hard orange light played across Gretchen’s face as she looked back at the zombie horde that was only fifty or so yards from the car.

“You guys remember that post office about ten miles from town, south of here?” asked Gretchen as she looked at the two men, “The fence is weak, but it locked, could buy us some time.”

“Time for what?” asked Ronnie as he looked at the horde in his rearview mirror.

“Time to fuck of course,” said Gretchen as she sat back down, “If I’m gonna die today I’d rather do it half-drunk and right after a three way with you two studs.”

“Beats any plan I’ve got,” smiled Fitz as he climbed back into the car, “Let’s do it while we still can, who knows how fast this shit moves through our systems, it’s different for everyone.”

Ronnie nodded silently and threw on his blinker to signify a left turn, which drew laughter from both Fitz and Gretchen. They made small talk as they drove, recalling fondly their old friends, favorite music, and muscle cars. Soon they were inside the post office compound, and sure enough the fence held against the horde that followed close on their heels. The infection was working its way through their systems with devilish efficiency, and by the time the three of them had parked the car and shed most of their clothes they were beginning to hallucinate and drip with cold sweat.

As the three lovers continued to experience each other their sense of time and space began to change.

Each of them knew that the infection was spreading through their bodies like wildfire, and they had seen their fair share of people fall victim to the bites. They did not have much time at all, though somehow diving into a sexual encounter with each other seemed to help them hold it together, or so they thought. For all three of them the awareness of past and present became difficult, and the threesome became a surreal montage of flesh and blood.

Ronnie knew beyond a doubt that he would soon join the ranks of the walking dead, and it wasn’t just because he had been bitten, or even that everyone who had ever been bitten had turned.

The thriller knew because he could hear the voices of the dead.

Miranda had heard the voices too, thought Ronnie as he looked out across the concrete lot and took in the sight of the massive horde of zombies that pushed against the fence, she’d said as much to the gang before rushing off to die fighting. Ronnie found himself missing Miranda for the third time today, and he intentionally didn’t look down at Gretchen as the young woman ran her tongue across his thick shaft.

For a moment it was zombie Miranda on her knees in front of him, and while sucking began gnashing her teeth to his piece off.

She had been Fitz’s girl and Ronnie was glad it was him who had put her down in the end, but everyone knew that Ronnie and Miranda had a thing together when they’d both been alive. Something about Ronnie and his car drove Miranda wild, and Fitz didn’t seem to mind that whenever they went on a deathride his girl would be sucking off his best friend before it was over. He’d have beat Ronnie senseless if they’d done anything more, but it never went that far. Ronnie finally looked down and saw that Gretchen was looking up at him. Her eyes were glassy from the infection as it coursed through her system, and she spoke through gasps of pleasure as Fitz worked his oral magic on her pierced clit.

“I’m not her Ronnie, and I know you miss the shit out of her,” said Gretchen as she pumped the thriller’s slick manhood with her hand, “I didn’t see the walker flanking me, she got bit saving my ass and I’m willing to own that.”

“Occupational hazard, she knew that,” said Fitz from between Gretchen’s legs as he paused to speak before continuing to lick the young woman’s dripping womanhood, “I miss her too, but you know the saying. Leave the dead for the dead.”

“Leave the dead for the dead,” Ronnie said as he fished out and lit his last cigarette from the crumpled back of smokes rolled into the sleeve of his t-shirt.

“So let’s fuck while we’re still the living,” said Gretchen as she winked up at Ronnie before wrapping her lips around the thriller’s cock.

Ronnie nodded and leaned back over the windshield to crank the volume of the radio as Gretchen bobbed her head with renewed enthusiasm. The thriller put the cigarette in his mouth and smoked hands-free as he gripped a fistful of Gretchen’s hair and clutched her throat in reverse. If he was going to die tonight he wasn’t about to go into that unknown territory without seriously throating the gorgeous woman on her knees in front of him. Gretchen, always a glutton for punishment, whimpered in pleasure as she struggled to cope with the ramming Ronnie was giving her mouth even as Fitz’s tongue lapped at her with achingly peerless skill.

Fitz bit down and tore a chunk of flesh from Gretchen’s shoulder as he gripped her waist and pulled her into him for a deep thrust.

The big thriller fucked her furiously from behind, and Ronnie was having to be equally brutal with her mouth and hair just to keep the young woman steady. Fitz blinked his eyes and saw that Gretchen’s back was indeed torn up and rent with bloody bite marks, though he recalled that it was not he who had done that. It was the zombie from earlier, though he could have sworn a moment before it was him. Must be the infection, he told himself, and as he took in the full view of his manhood disappearing into Gretchen’s gorgeous body he found himself grinning. He was going to die today, but before he went he was getting a piece of Grade A tail. With the kind of gusto that only a dead man could muster Fitz doubled his effort and began fucking Gretchen so hard that it was all she could do to scream his name. That suited him just fine.

Gretchen dug her fingers into Ronnie’s soft abdomen and pulled out ropey entrails with her hands even as she bit through Fitz’s scrotum just after he stuffed his balls into her mouth.

He wasn’t Mitch, thought Gretchen while she bounced up and down on Ronnie’s pillar, but the guy could keep a girl coming back for more. Fitz wasn’t Mitch either, the young thriller thought to herself as the big man pulled his balls out of her mouth and slapped her in the face with his massive cock before shoving it down her throat, but he had a style all his own. It had been awhile since she’d had two men at once, and she’d never in her short life had another guy without Mitch being there. There had always been a lot of voyeurism in their little gang of thrillers, ever since the beginning. The problem was that people kept dying.

Gretchen could hear the collective roars of the zombie horde on the other side over the fence. Their voices were almost loud enough to drown out the wet sounds she was making as Fitz used his grip on her hair and neck to abuse her mouth. Mixed in with the sounds of her own slurping and gagging the young thriller could nearly make out the actual words being spoken by the teeming undead. It was deeply unsettling, and Gretchen knew that she was rapidly changing to become one of them thanks to the infection. Deep-throating one man while getting impaled by another did help keep the voices at bay, and the young woman found that if she focused on fucking her two men that she didn’t feel as frightened by the havoc the infection was wreaking on her body.

All they could feel was the hunger, and the thin line between sex and violence grew thinner by the moment as they fucked fast and hard, hoping to beat the reaper long enough to ring the bell.

Gretchen arched her back against Ronnie’s muscled chest as she reached her arms over her head to grip the windshield. The young woman screamed with a mixture of pleasure and pain as the two men relentlessly assaulted her body. Fitz pushed the baseball bat further into Gretchen’s tight pussy as he held the handle with one hand and used the other to grip her waist tightly in an effort to hold her body steady. Ronnie, despite being on his back, was achieving some truly impressive thrusts, and as the thriller’s cock slammed Gretchen’s ass it took Fitz to hold her in place. The big thriller knew that all three of them were losing physical sensitivity by the minute, but that didn’t change the fact that he was fucking this girl with a bat and he had to be careful.

They collided in union like that for longer than any of them would have been able to handle had they not been infected. That didn’t stop Gretchen from orgasming several times, nor did it stop the two men from climaxing, it was just that when they finally did everyone was covered blood, sweat, and nearly dead. Ronnie went first, and his moan of pleasure sounded awfully similar to the hunger moans of the undead. The thriller arched his back as he thundered inside Gretchen’s bucking body, and then fell limp against the hood of the car and ceased to move.

Gretchen was panting as she watched Fitz use one hand to shove the bat back and forth into her while pumping his own cock to the point of orgasm. The big thriller growled like an animal as he snatched a fistful of Gretchen’s hair and blasted her in the face with his hot load. Fitz’s throes of pleasure turned to fits of spasm and he fell face first into the windshield and landed motionless next to Ronnie. Gretchen licked her lips as she slid the bat out of her ravaged pussy and lifted herself off of Ronnie’s now flaccid penis. The young thriller was able to drag the two bodies into the seats, and then finally herself over the windshield and into the driver’s seat, and then cranked the keys to awaken the throaty roar of the engine.

Gretchen threw the car into gear, released the parking brake, and lit her last cigarette. She smiled at her two boys, who had turned and begun to stir, as she hit the gas and gripped the steering wheel.

She wanted to kill-fuck-eat the world.

Ronnie’s heavy hotrod was a beast of a machine, and by the time it smashed through the fence it and into the horde of undead it was moving at over seventy miles per hour with a zombie behind the wheel.