= = = 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...