Dead Horizon Read Free

fuck one?” Billy Ray asked in earnest.
    “Not particularly, but I’m guessin’ it’s been on your mind.”
    “A little bit,” Billy Ray said. “Take her, for instance.” He jerked his head at the stripper. “Chick like that wouldn’t fuck me if she was alive, unless, of course, I gave her a week’s pay, but dead, hell, how much complain’ can she do?”
    The dead stripper was closing in.
    “Shoot her,” Wyatt said, his voice taking on a bit of an edge.
    “I wanna fuck her,” Billy Ray replied.
    “You’re a sick fuck,” Wyatt said, raising his .45 to shoot the dead stripper.
    “Don’t,” Billy Ray insisted.
    The stripper was only a few yards away.
    “You can’t be serious,” Wyatt said.
    “Just keep her occupied for me,” Billy Ray replied.
    Wyatt sighted again, almost squeezed the trigger, then lowered his weapon and said, “Aw, shit. Get it over with.”
    He made a move left, drawing the stripper’s attention from Billy Ray.
    “Lead her across the street, over to that parkin’ lot,” Billy Ray said.
    Wyatt tossed a quick look over his shoulder, then turned back to the dead bitch. She seemed to be moving faster for some reason. There wasn’t much daylight left. He knew this shit was going to get dangerous.
    “I’m shootin’ her if this gets outta hand,” he promised Billy Ray.
    “It’ll be okay,” Billy Ray assured him.
    Billy Ray got behind the stripper, trying to get his dick out with one hand and holding his pistol in the other.
    Wyatt backed toward the parking lot, coaxing the stripper to follow him. When he reached the parking lot, he said, “What the fuck do I do now?”
    “Let me take over,” Billy Ray said.
    He rushed the dead girl from behind, taking her down to the concrete. Her head bounced off the ground and smacked Billy Ray in the mouth. Billy Ray’s lip started bleeding. He cursed under his breath, laid his gun aside, then tore off the stripper’s G-string.
    He had to struggle a bit, but he managed to get his cock inside her. It was a little like fucking sandpaper at first, but he kept at her, spitting on his hand now and then to help ease the way. The stripper twisted, turned, and snapped at him. He got one arm around her neck to limit her movement.
    “Damn, this bitch is tough,” he grunted.
    “You’re fuckin’ bent,” Wyatt said.
    He began to case the area. His nerves were starting to frazzle. It was dark now—too dark to see anything. Darker shadows shifted within shadows. Some of those shadows were drifting closer.
    “Shit, Billy Ray, they’re coming,” Wyatt said.
    “Gimme a minute and I will too,” Billy Ray said, chuckling at his quick wit.
    The shadows began to take form as they closed in—lumbering creatures, quite a few of them nude, missing limbs, dead things with bullet holes and knife wounds, a woman wearing a strap-on dildo who was missing a tit, a cop with his insides rolling out, plopping on the ground with each step he took—too many dead things to count.
    “Billy Ray, you get your dick outta that bitch or I’m shootin’ you in the head and leavin’ you here,” Wyatt said.
    He snatched Billy Ray’s gun off the ground.
    “Almost there,” Billy Ray said, grunting with the effort. “The bitch is startin’ to loosen up.”
    Wyatt pointed his .45 at the zombies and aimed Billy Ray’s .357 at the back of Billy Ray’s head. He looked from Billy Ray to the approaching zombies and back again. “Don’t make me shoot you, Billy Ray, but if I have to, I will. I ain’t stayin’, and I ain’t leavin’ you here to become one of them.”
    Billy Ray kept humping while the stripper made awful mewling noises. Wyatt couldn’t stand the sound. He couldn’t take the stress. The zombies were closing in and he had to do something, so he squeezed off a round from the .357 that tore into the back of Billy Ray’s head.
    The zombies converged then, piling on top of Wyatt. He fired the guns until they were empty, then he kicked and punched.