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Love (And Sex!) In The Time of Zombies (Finale)

Trouble in paradise

= = = Chapter 15 continued = = =

 

This is still me, Lorrie. So there we were, Tina and I trying to position this car along the ditch. Look, I'm not so good at backing up, ok? I rolled the stupid Pontiac down into the ditch. I mean, who even has a Pontiac anymore?

We had this system where some of us moved cars, some drained the fluids, and some guarded us all. But, as Michael has told us during combat training, all plans go out the window when the first shot is fired. Well, the first shot, in this case, was one of the townies having a fit. Michael had enlisted their help, and all was going well. Until a couple of them got into an argument over one of the other cars that was owned by a dead person.

It seems that both of these old guys were sweet on 'Lady Jessica', who had turned earlier. Well they got into a fight about which of these guys should get her car. See, Michael had said we should keep any 4-wheel drive vehicles, any Priuses or other hybrids, any vans, and maybe a couple of fast cars if we found any. And we let the living folks keep whatever cars they had. But we needed the rest for the wall.

So Lady Jessica owned this 1972 Buick Le Sabre. It had some huge engine in it, I guess, and each guy thought they should be the one to keep it. The argument got bigger, fists were thrown, people pushed and shoved... I turned to Tina, and she rolled her eyes.

"Let's go," I said. And we took this Pontiac from town and drove it out ourselves. Yeah, I dropped it in the ditch, but everything was fine, right up until Tina got shot.

I whirled around to see where the shot came from when I was grabbed and picked up in the air.

Then one of the ugliest people I've ever seen came up and butt-stroked me in the head.

- - -

Fortunately, it was more of a glancing blow and my Lacrosse helmet blocked most of it. I wasn't knocked unconscious, but, as they say, I got my "bell rung". Two guys grabbed me, tied up my hands with those plastic zip-tie things, took my gun and knife, and drag-walked me to their truck they had hidden behind some trees. They jammed me between the two of them in the front seat. Jesus Christ I had a headache. Mother fuckers!

"So," says the guy who hit me. Some seriously dirtbag-looking scumbag who didn't seem to have showered since before the apocalypse.

"My name's Robbie. And slave-boy over there driving is Tom. And what's your name, hot stuff?"

Robbie had this shitty, greasy hair and smelled bad. Tom, a half-decent looking black guy, didn't look as bad, but still pretty dirty and grimy.

"Fuck you!" I spat out. I was trying not to cry.

"Well, isn't that nice. Fuck-you, it's nice to meet you!" And with that, Robbie started grabbing my tit as we rolled down the highway. He grinned at me with these slimy teeth and greasy face.

"Jesus!" I said. "Don't you guys bathe? You're disgusting!"

I sat there, trembling. I'm being kidnapped, it dawned on me. Kidnapped! Who does that? What will they do to me? Rape me, for sure. Then kill me? Don't kill me now, I'm in love!

"FUCK!" I hollered. Robbie just laughed at me.

We drove about twenty minutes up the road, the whole time he's feeling me up and talking dirty about all the things he's going to do to me. The driver wasn't saying anything. In fact, he seemed pissed or, maybe, disgusted by Robbie. As I looked at them both, Robbie had all this gear, and a pistol, and bullets and stuff on a vest while Tom didn't have anything. And, Robbie had called him 'slave'. Maybe, I thought, Tom's not into the whole thing here.

We slowed down at a turnoff for another town.

I screamed.

"I have to pee right now!!!"

"Ha!" laughed Robbie. "No way. We're almost there. You can pee when Big Trent says you can pee." But Tom slowed down.

"I'm going to pee in your truck right now if you don't let me out."

Tom stopped the truck, right at the crossroads. "Maybe we should let her. You know how Trent is about the truck."

"Shut up slave!" snapped Robbie. "I'm calling the shots, not you!"

Silence for a moment.

"I'll let you watch" I offered. "But you have to cut me loose or I'll fall over."

Robbie leaped out of the truck and pulled me with him.

"Cut her loose, slaveboy, and watch her so she doesn't get up to something"

Tom cut me loose, and I stood there for a moment. I could see Robbie had a hard on from rubbing my tits and thinking about watching me pee, but he also had his AR-15 somewhat pointed in my direction. Shit.

I pulled the scrunchie from my hair and posed a little, letting my long hair fly in the breeze. Then I casually flung it passed Robbie, it got hung up on a bush. Perfect.

"Come on, I don't got all day, Fuckyou!"

I undid my army pants, pulled them down and exposed my naked pussy to this flaming asshole. I felt completely humiliated.

I copped a squat, and... nothing, at first. Finally, I closed my eyes and tried to relax, and then I let it fly. The real trick was not to get it on my pants. Robbie stood transfixed. Dickhead. He undid his fly and began stroking his hard little cock. But, wisely, I thought, I didn't mention the size of it.

I started to get up.

"Don't move! Don't make me shoot you!"

"Oh come on Robbie," said Tom. "You know you won't shoot her, you're not supposed to even touch her or Trent will kill you!"

"Shut up!" hollered Robbie and pointed the gun at Tom, but still jacked his cock with the other hand. Damn pistol grips on the AR, they let you shoot one handed if you want.

"Pull up your shirt, Fuckyou." Humiliated again, I did.

He stepped forward and shot his load onto my tits and bra.

"Alright, come on," ordered Robbie.

I pulled my shirt down and my pants up. My t-shirt soaked in several places through from his obnoxious cum. They got another zip-tie and stuffed me back in the truck.

We drove through a town a lot bigger than our little one. We stopped after a couple minutes near a gigantic strip mall that had a Walmart in it. A large pirate flag flew from the top. The big store had hundreds of necros around it.

"Home, sweet home!" announced Robbie.

"Come on," said Tom, gently.

He cut my bonds and we climbed up this ladder that took us to the roof of the strip mall. From there we walked a couple hundred yards til we got to the Walmart roof. There were about 6 or 8 armed guys up here, but they weren't doing anything about the zombies trying to get in down below. These guys were just hanging out. And staring at me, but nobody said anything except Robbie.

"I found her," he announced. "Back off!"

We climbed down some stairs at the back, down to the storeroom of the Walmart. They led me through to the main floor, some light filtered down from the skylights but the lights were out.

And there he was, the man himself. Big Trent.

He was big, too. Massive. Looked like he had been on the 'roids. He was, honest-to-god, perched up on these display cases, sitting in an easy chair like he was a king on a throne. A naked woman kneeled next to him, she casually stroked his beefy legs. A couple guys stood by with AK-47s.

Robbie dragged me up the makeshift steps. Tom followed some distance behind.

"Well, well, WELL!" roared Big Trent, standing up. "What have you brought me?" He walked a circle around me, appraising me like a cow or something.

"This is what I'm talking about," he said. "This is what we've been looking for! I have been wanting some FINE piece of ass, not this shit you've been giving me." He kicked the girl who had been at his side. She whimpered and bowed her head low.

What an asshole, I thought.

"And what might your name be, pretty young thing?"

"All I can get out of her," interrupted Robbie. "Is 'Fuck-you'."

Big Trent glared at him, as if to say 'Was I talking to you?'

"What's your name, honey?" he asked me again.

"Fuck you!" It was all I could think of to say.

"Ah, defiance! How nice. Well I'm sure we can beat that out of you. I don’t expect this defiant act to last very long. Wait a second, what's this?" Big Trent had lifted my hair and saw a large bruise near my temple. He looked at Robbie. Robbie just shrugged his shoulders.

"Where'd you get this sweetie?" he asked.

"From dickhead over there!" I pointed my head at Robbie.

Big Trent got very quiet. What came out was just above a whisper.

"You... HIT... her?"

Robbie stood still, frozen in fear.

"He buttstroked me. I passed out."

"Now she's lying BT! I just gave her a little tap--"

"A little tap?" Big Trent asked. "She looks pretty banged up to me. Still, God, she's gorgeous. And look at these tits! They look real. Are they?"

Big Trent squeezed my boobs for a few moments. He stopped suddenly when he felt the wet spots.

"What the fuck?" he asked in shock. "Why are they wet, and sticky?" He looked at his hands in horror.

I told him. "Genius over there jacked off on me and shot his shitty cum onto me."

Robbie started denying it but Big Trent looked to Tom for confirmation. Tom nodded his head 'yes.'

Big Trent slowly went over to Robbie. "You... you let me touch... you let me put my hands on YOUR FUCKING JIZZ?"

"No BT it's not like that! You see she was--"

I didn't see it because I turned away, but Robbie dropped like a sack of potatoes, his head twisted at a weird angle. One down, I thought.

"Tom. Drag his ass to the gate, have him thrown over. Now, you, start talking. Where you’re from what's your setup, how you livin'. Come on."

"I uh," I began, trying to think of something to say. I came up empty. "I don't have much to say. Except that, my Daddy's going to kill you."

"Your what?"

"My Daddy. He will kill you. And everyone here. He loves me. A lot."

Big Trent thought about that for a few moments. Tom returned from his dragging duties.

"Ok Tom, tell me what happened."

"Well, they were lining up cars, like a wall. Down in Larchmont. That's that tiny town a few miles south. We watched them for awhile. Only saw a couple men, lots of girls. They had a couple guns..."

"And," Trent interjected. "They're clean. Very clean. They got their shit together, sounds like. Hey! Rat! Get over here! Tom, take her over to ladies wear, get her something else to wear. And get some wipes and clean off that fucking jizz. And you, girly-girl, you are going to talk to me, real soon."

Tom grabbed my arm and yanked me to come with him. We passed a guy walking towards Big Trent who was obviously 'Rat'. Pointy face, beady eyes.

As we got to the ladies section, Tom relaxed his grip and looked around.

"Look," he whispered. "I'm sorry. They've got my wife, my kid. Here, grab a shirt. They'll kill my family if I don't do everything they say. But... here's your knife back. I took it from that shithead when we fed him to the deaders. Hide it. Don't use it now. Wait til it's dark and things quiet down. Too many guys around now.

"But, it's really just Trent and his crew. The rest of us are prisoners, or scared shitless, forced labor kind of thing. They make us kill the deaders at the front, but just with rakes and shovels. Still, if your man comes, we can help out."

"Ok Tom, and thanks. But my daddy IS coming. When he does, stay out of his way. I'll try to keep you safe."

Tom looked at me like I was crazy. But, you know, I've seen Michael in action. He's all chill and stuff, until the shit gets going. Then he turns into this major hard-corps killer. It's almost scary, but it's also totally sexy. And he's going to save me.

At least, I hoped he would. Soon.

- - -

They tied me up, tight. I couldn't get anything even remotely loose. Big Trent questioned me for, I don't know, maybe like an hour?. He wanted to know the layout of our place, how many people we had, how much food, how many guns, everything. He threatened, hurt me a little, I held out a long time. Finally I gave some bullshit answers. I told them our stronghold was some of the houses right by the road. I told him we were almost out of food. We had 5 hunting rifles. We bathed in the stream. There was only 6 of us.

But each answer, I held out. Trent punched my stomach. Slapped my legs. Slapped my ass. I cried a lot, mostly just to buy time. Come on Michael, where are you?

"Alright Sweetheart," Trent said, leering at me. "I think the kidding around is just about over. I think the heavy stuff is going to come down just about now!"

Trent pulled out a huge knife. It looked as long as my arm. I just about shit myself.

Trent dragged the knife down my face, between my boobs, I trembled.

"You told me the whole truth, right?" he asked. "Nothing but the truth?"

"So help me, God," I swore.

"She's holding back!" hollered Rat. Thanks for the help, dipshit. "Cut her!"

Suddenly, we heard gunfire. the guys on the roof are shooting, I thought.

"Rat, go up and check it out." The firing increased above us. Trent felt me up, enjoying himself. I was about to throw up. The firing lessened, then stopped.

"Maybe that's your daddy, coming for you. But, it sounds like we got him!"

More shots sounded, and one of the skylights shattered. Right near us.

Suddenly, a body flew through the skylight and crashed about 20 feet away. The head was shot and he was a mess from the fall, but you could tell by his clothing. It was Rat. Two down.

"Rat! Shit! What the Fuck! Wilson! Everyone! Get over here!" Another body came through the skylight, Trent and his guys fired everything they had at the opening. Three down. They ran out of ammo, dropped mags and put in more and kept shooting at the ceiling near the opening. Finally, nobody had any full mags left.

This weird scraping noise emanated from the ceiling. Something was being scraped or dragged. Another body flew through the opening and crashed down near us. One of Trent's guys. He must've had 20 bullets in him. Four.

That meant... Michael was still alive!

Trent and his guys were in a panic. They weren't ready for anything like this. All their magazines were empty, they scurried about looking for more ammo. They finally found a case and started reloading, but they were slow.

Another body fell through the skylight. Five. Shot to absolute shit. They shot a few rounds back towards the hole and ran out of ammo again. Trent screamed at his guys to find more ammo. Jesus, didn't these dumbasses have it stored somewhere nearby? Oh, they had it up near the front door. Several of their guys went to get some of the cans.

Trent pulled out a gigantic pistol and waved it around; I found out later it was called a 'Desert Eagle'. A guy named Johnson had an M-16 rifle, he fired random shots into the roof until Trent told him to knock it off and listen.

I was still standing there, tied up with my boobs hanging out. Trent came over and put this big ass gun to my head. I, um, peed right then. I do not like being defenseless, no sir.

"Tom!" Trent yelled. "See who these dead guys are."

Disgusted, Tom sifted through assorted two dead guys. Trent and Johnson scanned the ceiling skylight trying to catch sight of something. I watched Tom roll the dead guys around, and saw him pocket a pistol. Tom smiled at me.

"It's Pablo and Shorty," Tom reported. "Shot in the head, amongst other places... They won't be turning. I can't make out the other guy, he's too messed up."

Trent whirled in panic. "How many guys were on the roof? Huh?" Tom shrugged his shoulders. "No shooting now, I guess they're all dead. Fuck!" Trent pointed the Desert Eagle at me, and jammed it right into my forehead.

"You... bitch... Call him off!"

I made a face at him, and he thumped me with his gun in the forehead. It didn't knock me out, but it hurt like shit and made my head spin. I could hear Trent but it was like I was underwater. I could hear him yelling about covering the back stairs or something. Next thing I know, Wilson had a big gaping hole in his head, and Tom was standing there with a vicious look on his face and a smoking gun in his hand. I guess he scavenged it from one of the dead guys. Tom shot two more bad guys before Big Trent fired on him. Tom was able to duck down an aisle.

Trent couldn't chase him because he heard his name being called. By my Daddy!

"Trent!" Michael called from behind me somewhere. "Put down the gun and we can still be friends."

"Yeah right!" responded Trent as he ducked behind a stack of Coors beer cases. "And how the fuck do you know my name?"

"One of your little toadies squealed up on the roof, but don't worry! He won't ever squeal again."

More shots and shouts came from various parts of the store. The 'slaves' were rising up against their masters! So cool! Trent didn't know what to do, or where to look, or who to cover.

"I'll... I'll shoot your bitch!" Trent yelled. And he looked at me and started to point the Eagle at me.

Trent's head exploded. I thought, I didn't know a head could just explode! Then Tom and Michael were facing each other, guns pointed warily.

"No!" I managed to scream. "You're on the... same side"

I blacked out.

===================

Chapter 16

===================

I shot this shithead Trent right in his fucking head. I scanned for targets and saw this black guy also shooting at Trent. I covered him with my 1911, but I was kind of hoping that he wouldn't shoot me since we both shot Trent.

Then Lorrie shouted that we were on the same side, and we lowered our weapons as Lorrie collapsed in her bonds.

"Cover us!" I said tersely to this new guy as I cut Lorrie down from the paracords. "Are there any more of these guys?"

"I don't know, I think my friends took out the rest up near the front, but I can't be sure yet."

Lorrie looked okay, she had a lump on her forehead.

"Stay here, uh--" I started to say.

"Tom. My name is Tom Zander. I'll protect her."

"You better, Tom. I've killed a lot of people today, I don't mind adding to the list."

There was some commotion up front, so I skirted around through the toys and cosmetics to see what was happening. The cause of the ruckus became clear; 20 or so people were beating 3 or 4 people to death. I stepped out from behind the racks.

"I'm with Tom!" I yelled as they all turned threateningly towards me. "And the captured girl!" They had rakes and shovels and started advancing on me. There was blood in their eyes!

Fortunately, Tom rounded the corner, carrying Lorrie in his arms.

"It's alright!" Tom asserted. "He's cool. He just killed about 15 of our asshole warlords. Let's not kill him just yet."

As the situation defused. Tom and a few others ran off with some captured rifles.

"Where are they off to?" I asked to nobody in particular.

A bruised up gentleman, calling himself Nathan, responded.

"They've been keeping the women and kids locked up in the nail salon next door. I imagine that Rollie, that fucking piece of shit guard, doesn't have much breathing time left."

Then Nathan explained what happened to them. The town was swarmed early on by zombies. If you went outside, you got eaten. All these living people were in the Walmart when they shut it down on a Saturday. For a lucky few, the whole family was shopping at the same time and survived intact. For others, their loved ones were 'outside' somewhere. Then these "Rattlers" showed up and easily took over the store and the group. The Rattlers acted like saviors on the run, and were gladly accepted into the group. After the first night, however, the Rattlers showed their true colors; enslaving everyone. This went on for three weeks, and then Lorrie and I showed up.

Erin drifted in from the roof. She covered the group with her AR-15, I quickly motioned for her to lower the barrel, these were friendlies.

"Thank God you're alright!" She said to Lorrie and me. "I didn't hear anything for awhile, I was thinking the worst!" She hugged us both, then glanced around at the people and also the store.

"So..." she began. "What happens next?"

Just then Tom and his crew returned, Tom holding tightly to a woman and a small girl around his neck. "I think we got them all. Hey, who's the new girl?"

"This is Erin," I announced to him and the group. "She shot about six or eight of your 'Rattlers'--"

"Ten! If you don't mind!"

"My bad, Erin. She shot Ten of your rattlers on the roof, which allowed me to climb up and into your Walmart here where, with the help of Tom, we don't have a Rattler problem anymore."

I expected the survivors to be a little more happy about us, seeing as how we rescued them and all. But they were a bit leery of us and our intentions. Rightfully so, I guess. The last 'saviors' didn't work out so well.

"Well, guys," I said. "We're gonna get going. These shitheads shot one of my people back home. Do you mind if we get some medical supplies? Then we'll be on our way."

I headed over to the Pharmacy section. These guys still had fully stocked shelves of most everything. Jesus, I thought. Wish I was a little more mercenary in my way of thinking. I would take everything. But whatever.

Tom came over to me, with his wife and little girl still around his neck. "Look, um, Michael. I'm a veterinarian. Or, I was. I could take a look at your person if you wanted... Maybe we can work out some kind of trade, know what I'm saying?"

"Awesome, that would be great, Tom. Um, I know we're all new to each other, but we might be able to work out some trade between our groups, maybe even merge them together... for our mutual benefit."

And that's what we did.

= = = = = = = =

One Year Later

= = = = = = = =

"Please honey!" I begged. "For the love of God put her down already, she's had enough!"

Lorrie smiled innocently at me. "Why, whatever do you mean?"

I walked over and gently took my darling baby Jessie from her mother's arm and breast. Carefully, I set her down in her crib. Jessie mewled a bit, stretched a little, but stayed asleep. Yes!

I looked back at Lorrie. Her impossibly large breasts lay against her stomach, her left one still leaking milk. I pulled her out of the rocker and led her towards our room and the bed. She tried to argue but I held my finger to my lips, telling her to keep quiet and not wake the baby.

"But Michael," she protested as I closed the door. "I'm tired from the feeding."

"Don't worry, this won't take long!" I can't sit in a room with her for very long while she feeds the baby, I just get way too fucking worked up! I stripped quickly and jumped on top of her. My iron cock bashed into her legs as I grabbed her tits and squeezed them together.

Milk gushed from both her nipples like a water fountain, except this fountain had many different streams! Warm milk sprayed on my face and dripped off my chin. I opened my mouth and savored the sweet flavor. Quickly, I fell upon a tit and sucked the shit out of it. I mean, sucked the milk out of it! Warm milk flowed down my throat, gulp after gulp. I couldn't get enough.

Gayle whispered from the doorway, "Did the baby poop? Oh..." I didn't even look up. It was my feeding time.

I guess Lorrie motioned her mom in, for the next thing I knew, Gayle was pushing me aside a little. She was trying to get between her daughter's legs. Grudgingly, I moved out of the way, a little, so as not to lose my grip on Lorrie's tits. Gayle snuggled her face into Lorrie's pussy, gently licking and kissing her deliciously wet slit.

I sort of lose track of time when I'm latched on to gigantic milking tits, especially when they are filled with milk. So, I don't know how long it was, but eventually Lorrie started to moan softly. Then she jerked and bucked as the sensations from my milk-sucking and her mom's tongue-lashing took over. Presently, she composed herself after trembling but quiet orgasm.

"Go ahead Michael," Lorrie whispered. "Fuck Mee-Maw."

"Bullshit 'Mee-Maw'!" Gayle complained. "I'm 'Nana' you little bitch!" As punishment for this breach of etiquette, Gayle resumed licking her daughter's cunt, even more vigorously this time.

I detached, somewhat reluctantly, from Lorrie's tits. Truth was, I think I had enough. Must've been eight or ten ounces! Gayle rose up on her knees but kept her face buried between Lorrie's legs.

I worked on Gayle's pants, struggling to get them off. I've asked her before to take them off before she gets in the bed, but she doesn't remember! Alzheimer's, I guess. She is an old woman, anyway. Almost as old as me...

Finally, I exposed her glistening pussy lips. I was too wound up for finesse and felt a little selfish; I just mounted her quickly and rammed my cock in hard! Oh yessss... the only thing that feels better than drinking warm tit-milk is sliding my cock into a hot and steamy pussy! I looked up at my two hot mamas. Well, technically one mama and a grandma. But the Grandma just turned 40, so it ain't no thing! Maybe in a few weeks I can fuck my wife, Lorrie. She's still too tender from the delivery.

I'm sorry to say, but I could only last a minute or so inside Gayle's sopping wet pussy. My orgasm was approaching, and there wasn't much I could do about it.

"Lorrie," I panted. "You know you (...pant...) need to stay hydrated!" I only had about ten seconds to go.

"Give it to me baby!" she said.

Leaping up and around Gayle, I planted myself right next to Lorrie's face. Grabbing my cock, I stroked it a couple times and placed it between her lips.

YES!!! Hot streams of man cum erupted from me, into her welcoming mouth. Gayle's work kicked in right then, so Lorrie was cumming as she swallowed down my jizz gleefully, even gratefully, perhaps.

I rolled off to the side, exhausted, as Gayle straddled Lorrie's tits. She ground her clit into Lorrie's erect and milky nipples. Gayle came hard in just under a minute, mixing her cum with Lorrie's milk. They both looked at me.

"Oh alright," I said, feigning boredom. Lorrie leaned over and dragged her cum and milk covered tits in my face. I revelled in the mixed concoction and my cock recovered from its previous state of about 95% hard to completely rock solid again.

This could go on all day!

Suddenly, a radio call interrupted our fun.

"Mustang, come in Mustang." That was our house call sign.

I struggled over to the handheld. "Yeah Little Tiger, what's up." Erin wanted something.

"Just letting you know that chopper flew by again. Looks like he wants to land."

"Ok LT. Don't shoot unless they shoot first. Got me? Don't shoot! I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Soon?" Erin cackled. "Put that woman down for ten fucking minutes! We need you!"

"I was, unavoidably detained... I'll be right there."

"Hurry up asshole. Little Tiger out."

Is that any way to talk to her commanding officer? I didn't think so. She will need some kind of punishment tonight. Probably have to tie her down and make her watch me fuck her girlfriend Payton. Yeah, that would work!

I did want to hurry, though. We had seen a chopper go by a few times in the last weeks. They were checking us out. It was the Air Force or the Army, we couldn't tell which but knew it was military; nobody else flew Blackhawks.

The girls helped me dress in my best zombie killing outfit. We didn't have uniforms per se, we concerned ourselves with more practical matters. They finished strapping on my gear and I hauled ass down to the rear of Master's and Johnson Hardware store in the Jeep. They were going to follow me in a couple minutes.

The Blackhawk hovered about 500 feet away, the door gunner covering us. Some troops inside also covered us with M-16s. I put my AR-15 on the hood of the Jeep and stepped away from it. I made big pointing motions with my hands, hopefully indicating that I wanted them to land here.

They came directly over us, still at a few hundred feet. A small bag dropped out of the chopper and landed in a heap of dust.

I ran to the bag and discovered a radio wrapped in dirty socks and tshirts. I switched it on.

"Howdy," I called, might as well sound friendly. "Whatcha guys want."

"This is Lt. Col. Marcus Peterson, United States Army. Do we have permission to land? I'd like to speak with whomever is in charge."

"If your intentions are peaceful, Colonel, then come on down."

They sat the bird down in a whirlwind of dust and shut it down. After a few tense moments where we each wondered if we would shoot at each other, I turned slowly to show I was unarmed. Erin and the Masters brothers still covered the helo, though. Actually, all my people had their weapons trained on the Army fellas.

The Colonel stepped out and approached me. A huge, hulking black man; kinda looked like that actor from Shawshank Redemption. I saluted him, and he returned the salute.

"Michael Larson, Mayor, Commandant, Captain, and Father of this town."

Col. Peterson smiled and we shook hands.

"I have no interest in shooting you fellas," I informed Peterson. "Maybe your guys could assume a less aggressive stance?"

Peterson motioned, and they pointed their guns elsewhere instead of directly at us.

"Drink, sir?" I queried. "A little of Tennessee's Finest?"

Col. Peterson smiled. "Sounds like a good idea!" I ushered him into the Hardware store where Morgan quickly set us up with a bottle of Jack and two glasses. I poured us each a couple fingers worth.

"Well Colonel, you've seen most of our area from the air. How about filling me in on how you're set up, and what your intentions are with us." These guys had the upper hand, for sure. I mean, they had a chopper, fuel, men and arms. But I didn't want to just give away the keys to city to these guys.

The colonel allowed as how they were out of Fort Carson. Like everywhere else, they had their fair share of zombie trouble, but were fortunate to not devolve into total anarchy. They still had over half of their troops, about 8,500 folks including families on base.

"Most other installations weren't that lucky," the Colonel explained. "Many were entirely overrun, or lost all their folks in the subsequent city battles. Camp Pendleton is the only other base we’ve maintained contact with. That’s in between San Diego and L.A. We've stayed out of the big cities so far, just seems like too big of a job to tackle. But now we've seen your, uh, what do you call your contraption out front?"

"Ah," I said beaming with pride. "The Sanchez Death Pit, you mean. Invented by an eighteen year old girl, who happens to be my wife and mother of my child. Anyway, it's pretty simple, but very effective. You wanna take a look?."

We walked outside and found the chopper guys talking with Gayle, Lorrie, Tina, Payton. Guys were smiling and laughing, having a good time.

I said jokingly to the Colonel, "Looks like your boys forgot to pull security!"

He shook his head. "We've got about an 8:1 ratio of men to women, so your gals here are a sight for very, very sore eyes!"

"Not going to be a problem, is it Colonel?"

"No sir," he responded. "We will not tolerate any kind of unwillful behavior. That being said, we do have some VERY comfortable women who have found it to be, um, shall we say, 'profitable', if they are of certain moral standard."

I winked at him as I led them up the walkway. Tom greeted us up there.

"This is Tom Zander, my second in charge." They exchanged pleasantries as we walked on the raised walkway to get to the death pit. I continued on. "Tom and his people moved here from another town after a shared incident brought us together. We took over a truck stop north of here, arranged the shipping containers to act as walls and funnels, and to act as ramps for our zombie friends. We've got a little Bobcat skidsteer machine over there, dug out the pit with that and voila! The Sanchez Pit of Death! By the way, we claim all copyrights and trademarks to that name."

The Army guys were stunned by the Death Pit. We were currently in the middle of passively dispatching a pretty good-sized herd of a couple thousand zombilators, at least. We mostly stood guard, somewhat out of sight so the zeds wouldn't get distracted, and fired a shot every now and then at those who survived the 40-foot fall and tried to clamber over the container wall.

"It's so simple!" cried Col. Peterson. "And yet, elegant! You don't even need bait, right? You've got smoke rising from the burning dead, and that draws in others, right?"

"Exactly. See, early on we nearly got overrun a few times, and we didn't have enough people or ammo to fight them one by one. We needed a passive solution, and Lorrie Sanchez came up with it! I've seen enough zombie films, although I never expected to be in one. But the people were always making dumb mistakes. They never had a place they could lock down and try and start over. We think we've got that, and that's what we're trying to do here."

"Any problems with it?" Peterson asked.

"Mmmm, sometimes they get a little confused. The fire might die down or a bird might distract them. But then we just ring this bell we got from a church." I pointed to the bell hanging out in the middle of the pit, supported by a 2x4 structure. "Also, we've got rotating beacons, cop lights, to get their attention again. When it gets slow, we have to block up the ramps so we can clean out the trampled bodies. That's probably the biggest danger, getting clogged like that."

The Colonel's mind was spinning. "You could, wow, build more ramps, dig a deeper pit so they always break, rig up lights so they fire in sequence to create illusion of movement up the ramp... holy shit, this could really work." He seemed lost in thought.

"Well, sir, it does work. But yeah, you could enlarge it, sure, you've got big equipment, right?"

The Colonel ushered us aside and spoke to his men. They all seemed pretty excited. After a couple minutes he turned back towards Tom and myself.

"Listen, can you guys make me a list of what you need? You've got a good setup here and I want to see you succeed. You're going to need more farmland than what you've got now. What can we do for you?"

I just about came unglued with pure glee. "Well. Let's see. Some .50 cals would be nice. Ma Deuces and Barretts, and plenty of ammo. 100 M-4 rifles. About 50,000 rounds of 5.56, too. Um...1,000 gallons of gasoline, and tanks to hold it. A few thousand MRE's would help. What else. Clothes. Soap. Toilet paper. Bigger bulldozer? Farm equipment. oh yeah FENCES! We need fencing material so we can expand our farms. Goats, chickens, cows, and some more families, too."

Cpl. Flint wrote down everything.

"Mayor Larson," Col. Peterson began. "If it's okay with you, I'd like to set up an auxiliary post here. Man it with 50 people. Some Humvees. 2 Strykers. Medical trailer and staff. And I'd like to offer you a commission as a Major in the Army Reserves. This post will be under your command."

"I'm honored sir," I said, my voice faltering. "Not sure I want to be in the Army, though. I just want to stay here and raise my family. No disrespect, sir."

"That's why I'm putting you in the reserves. You'll stay here and command the entire county, maybe even several counties. But you will live here. With our support. Meanwhile, we will take your Sanchez idea and liberate all of Colorado, and the country, too!"

We talked a while longer, then they took off in their chopper. However, they left the Corporal behind to act as engineer and designer of the new post. Erin fairly leapt at the chance to escort Cpl. Flint around. Poor guy, I thought. He doesn't stand a chance!

I went back to the house and told the ladies and the baby about the conversation. Jessie spit up a little, but I didn't take that as a negative. Gayle, however was a little different.

"Let me get this straight," she said, crossly. "You're giving up everything we've fought for, and letting these Army guys waltz in here and take over? What happened to you? Weren't you the one always talking bad about shitheads that live off the government tit?"

Well, shit, when she put it that way, it didn't sound like such a good deal.

"Babe," I said, trying to sound hopeful. "We have to connect with others. We have to get rid of these zombies. We need real medicine, more food, or else we'll just be subsisting. I want your kid and my kids," I looked at Lorrie, "to be able to grow, and become something other than just semi-starving zombie fighters! We don't have to go back to the old ways of pure greed and avarice, but maybe we can make a better world this time."

Gayle looked at me, unsure.

"I'm not just making this shit up. I don't want to be beholden to the Army, either. But I feel the best way to improve the world is to get involved, be the one on the inside and guide policy and change. Not just sit here and have fantastic, abundant sex while the rest of the world dies completely..."

What the fuck did I just say? I don't want fantastic, abundant sex? Maybe I have Zombie fever, I should lie down...

"Michael," Lorrie said. "We just don't want you leaving us. Show the Army how to build these Death Pits. But let them do it. You stay here, mister. That's an order."

Lorrie scooped up Jess and stormed out of the room.

- - - -

Four days later, I was getting dressed in my 'Class A' Army uniform. Already had a ribbon on it, too. Red, white, and blue stripes with a 'Z' in the middle of it. I got several sets of camo also, as did everyone in town. But the colonel said I should wear this for my formal induction and address to the town.

I stepped out into the family room of my adobe castle to see what the ladies thought. They were already dressed in their new camo utilities.

Wolf whistles. Catcalls. Fist pumps. And that was from baby Jess! Naw, she was sleeping in her room. Well, it seemed to go over pretty well.

"Turn around mister," ordered Lorrie. She and Gayle and Erin made appreciative noises.

"It has to be done," Gayle said as she began moving towards me.

"Definitely," added Erin, also moving.

"Cover me, I'm going in!" Lorrie chimed in.

"No!" I protested, meekly. "I'm supposed to address the troops in... fifteen minutes!"

"This won't take that long," Gayle promised.

Gayle and Erin unzipped my uniform pants and took out my hardening cock. They each began licking their side of it. Lorrie undid her uniform blouse and took her tits out. Staring me down, she lifted her nipple to her mouth and began to suck her own milk.

They were right.

It didn't take long at all.

 

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The End!

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