Thrillers (Sex & Violence Book 2)

Thrillers

 

By Amanda Close

 

Copyright by Amanda Close 2015

 

 

The zombie apocalypse came and went, leaving a broken world in its wake. The few cities that survived had found ways to close themselves off from the rest of the world, leaving the suburban sprawl to rot and ruin. Teenagers with little knowledge of the past and even less hope for the future have taken solace in cars, zombie slaying, and rock & roll. They call themselves ‘thrillers’, and make their living by scavenging the sprawls of the wasteland for loot and fuel. Gretchen, Fitz, and Ronnie are a gang of hardcore youths in a retro hotrod searching for a dose of sex and violence on the open road. 

 

This is their story...

DEATHRIDE

 

The engine of the 1950's convertible rumbled as the heavy vehicle came speeding around the corner, the light of the setting sun glinting off the polish chrome to give the red paint job an ethereal glow.

 

Ronnie depressed the brakes as he cut the corner and saw a handful of zombies shambling through the abandoned suburban street. The noise of the engine and the punk tunes blaring on full volume from the car stereo had already drawn a small crowd of the creatures ahead of the vehicle, some already in the street and others making their way out of shattered house doors and open backyards. Ronnie gave the signal and his two passengers, Gretchen and Fitz, leapt out of their seats and onto the pavement, not bothering to open or close their doors as the car slowed to only a few miles per hour.

 

"I love my job," shouted Gretchen as she twirled a baseball bat in her hands, deftly turning the spin into a powerful swing that connected with the temple of a nearby zombie, sending blood, brains, and bone fragments flying as the creature fell to the ground, "First blood baby! You owe me smokes Fitz!"

 

Fitz grunted and sank the hooked end of his crowbar into the skull of the zombie closest to him, then twisted the padded handle to wretch the weapon free just in time to knock aside the grasping hands of another. Fitz took several rapid steps backwards to put more room between himself and the zombie, who continued to lurch forward despite now having one of its arms broken and hanging at an unnatural angle. They sometimes called them walkers, other times zombies, though in that moment of furious combat walker seemed to fit, as they moved so slow compared to the expert thrill killers. Fitz waited for the right opening and leapt to the side, faking out the charging zombie and landing a solid blow to the back of its head, sending it to the ground in a heap.

 

Gretchen sprinted ahead of the still-moving car and ducked under the awkward grasping attempt by a large zombie. The young woman spun on her heels and brought the bat around in a wide arc that swept the legs out from under the zombie. As the creature hit the pavement Gretchen stood up straight and brought her bat down in an overhead strike that pulped the zombie's dome. Ronnie shouted and Gretchen could see that three more creatures had emerged from the backyard of a house, and as she observed the scene she could see that the house had once been barricaded, though now the door was off the hinges and the wooden planks bloody and discarded on the porch. The young woman said a silent prayer for the former occupants and then stepped forward to engage the zombies.

 

The first one went down easily as Gretchen slammed her bat into the top of its head, and then she knocked the second aside with a strong blow to its shoulder, sending the creature spinning away and stumbling. The third moved faster than Gretchen had anticipated, and as it reached her the young woman barely had time to get her bat between its hands and her throat. She and the zombie wrestled for a moment as the zombie tried to claw its way past her bat, and though Gretchen still had her weapon between them the creature managed to pull her to the ground and land on top of her. Gretchen could hear Ronnie screaming for Fitz to help and knew that even if he could reach her it would be too late. She had been thrill killing zombies for nearly two years, and in that time she'd had a few close calls, which was to be expected, it was a high risk lifestyle that only the most violent and deranged typically gravitated towards. Gretchen figured she was a little of both, and knew how to handle herself. She kept her cool and let go of the bat with one hand, betting that she could get her hands onto her knuckle dusters before the vile hands of the creature could tear into her. The gamble paid off, Gretchen filled her fist with the duster, and was able to pound the zombie with several right hooks. The creature's body went slack and it collapsed on top of her, which in the heat of the moment she had forgotten would happen. She could see that the other zombie had recovered from her strike and was closing in fast. Gretchen gave a shout of effort and dead pressed the corpse then twisted her body to one side and threw it off of her, then scrambled backwards as the zombie lurched at her. The young woman slid under the flailing arms of the creature and gripped its throat with her left hand, the soft grey flesh giving way slightly as her fingers closed around its windpipe. Gretchen drove her brass-knuckled fist over and over into the space where the creature's nose met forehead until the bone gave way and she felt her fist sink into the rotting brains within.

 

As the corpse hit the pavement Gretchen wiped away some of the gore that had splattered across her face looked at her surroundings. Fitz had reached her and was dispatching a fourth zombie that had appeared to join the fray, and she could see two more shambling up the street. Ronnie stepped on the gas and collided with the creatures, sending both sprawling to the pavement. Fitz took off at a run towards the fallen creatures while Gretchen recovered her blood-slick baseball bat and rushed to catch up. Fitz killed the two zombies as they tried to rise, taking out the first one as it struggled to its feet, then dropping the other with a well-placed strike to the back of its head. Gretchen ran forward, not stopping as she disintegrated the dome of another zombie that had come at them from a nearby alley.

 

Ronnie honked the horn twice in rapid succession, the signal for Fitz and Gretchen to make good on their kills before too many zombies closed in around them. They had done this many times, and the gang operated with a fluid efficiency when it came to looting the corpses. They quickly checked for wallets, purses, and jewelry. The ten corpses took them only a few moments to check as the killers sprinted from body to body while Ronnie turned the car around, backing onto the front yard of a nearby house to expedite the turn. The driver had turned down the radio, and as he rolled back to the corner where the killers had disembarked he could see several more zombies already gathering in his rearview mirror. Gretchen and Fitz leapt back into the car and Ronnie gunned the engine, hitting the gas to speed away from the scene. Gretchen looked back to see even more zombies emerging from houses and alley ways to converge on their previous location, the handful of creatures blossoming into over a dozen as the convertible made its escape.

 

Gretchen turned around and leaned back in her seat as Ronnie swerved to avoid a cluster of zombies that had come up behind them, then swerved again to run over a solitary zombie, eliciting a rousing cheer from Fitz and Gretchen as the creature's body went flying out of sight behind them. Ronnie took several more turns as they moved further away from the zombie convergence as Fitz sifted through their loot. Gretchen lit a cigarette and leaned back in her seat, letting the music fill her mind as the combined nicotine and adrenaline rush hit her system. Her left hand found its way to her tight stomach, and then moved down into her skirt as Ronnie kept driving. She let herself sink into the seat and the gentle vibrations of the purring engine as she worked her womanhood, her fingers expertly massaging her pierced clit as they slid in and out of her increasingly wet pussy. She caught Ronnie looking at her through the rearview mirror, and it elevated the intensity of her masturbation as he alternated between watching her and watching the road. The wind whipped against her face, drying the blood and tossing her hair as the car hit a straightaway and Ronnie stepped on the gas. Gretchen's steady breathing turned into gasps of pleasure as she neared orgasm, and Fitz turned around in his seat to stare lecherously at her before picking up her bat and standing up in his seat.

 

Fitz leaned out of his seat and swung the bat at a zombie as they passed it in the street, splattering himself and the front of the car with blood and brains as Ronnie let out a shout of encouragement. Gretchen let out a moan as she reached orgasm while Ronnie and Fitz kept running down the creatures in their own zombie version of mailbox baseball. Ronnie turned the radio up and gestured to Fitz, pointing at Gretchen with his thumb. Fitz left the bat in the front seat and climbed into the back as Ronnie kept driving. Gretchen left her cigarette hanging in her mouth as she unfastened Fitz's gore caked jeans, unleashing his throbbing erection. She placed the cigarette in Fitz's mouth and filled her own with his cock, propping herself up on all fours as she sucked him. Fitz held the cigarette firmly in his lips and smoked as he used one hand to grip Gretchen's short hair and the other to finger her pussy.

 

Ronnie looked at the couple in the rearview mirror and started tapping his fingers on the steering wheel in time with the music. He watched as Gretchen bobbed her head up and down on Fitz's cock, and he could not help but to smile as he saw the tattoo on the back of her neck, the symbol that all of them had inked into their bodies. It was both a mark of the gang and a nod to their dead friends, as over the last year they had lost two members. The lives of thrill killers were often just as short as they were exciting, so those who lived it liked hard music, hard drugs, and hard sex.

 

Gretchen's boyfriend Mitch had died nearly a year ago, overpowered by a clutch of zombies, and Miranda had gotten infected only two weeks ago. The gang had been on a deathride just like any other, but there had been more walkers than they’d anticipated in the area. Gretchen and Miranda had been separated from the car by a horde of the things. By the time the women had fought their way back to the car Miranda had been bitten. Ever the hardcore thriller the hot brunette had decided to stay behind and take as many with her as she could before turning, and had gone back into the fray swinging her hatchet.

 

Ronnie missed Miranda especially, who while having been Fitz's main squeeze she had been especially fond of sucking Ronnie's cock while he did the precision stunt driving that kept them alive and thriving. The thriller driver lived for those deathride blowjobs, and to him it was better than anything this short brutal life had to offer. Miranda often wore a sort of gothic maid outfit, and Ronnie relished those moments when he would keep one hand on the wheel and use the other to reach up her skirt and finger her pussy while she sucked him off. He’d once made her cum with his fingers, just before blasting the back of her throat with his load, and it always had made him feel like it was romantic that she’d never told Fitz about her orgasm. With the smell of his semen on her hot breath she’d whispered into his ear that it was their little secret. That was living right there, he thought to himself, and she still died like a boss.

 

Ronnie said a silent "here's one for you toots" and turned the wheel to plow over the body of a zombie that had wandered into the street, smirking as he felt the corpse get further crunched under the wheels as he drove on.

 

In the rearview Ronnie could see that what started as a blowjob had turned into an all out throat bang as Fitz had taken hold of Gretchen's hair with both hands and was pumping his cock forcefully in and out of her open mouth. Ronnie knew from experience that Gretchen liked it rough, though he was always amazed at how much punishment the young woman could take, especially from guys like Fitz, who was just as savage a lover as he was a killer.

 

Mitch and Gretchen had been big fans of fucking in the back seat during their deathrides, recalled Ronnie, though from what he remembered their passion was less barbaric. Mitch was a softhearted guy, and though he was a ruthless thrill killer like the rest of them, he was the only one in the gang who didn’t seem to go in for the hardcore sex. He’d fuck Gretchen in front of everybody, just like Miranda and Fitz did, though he had been more of a love-maker. Gretchen wasn’t as killfuck-crazy back then either, and it was only after Mitch got killed that the young woman had started wanting it so hard. Gretchen had slept around in the city after Mitch had passed, but eventually she moved on, just like the rest of them.

 

Everything had changed when Miranda bought the farm. It was as if the gang had lost its soul, and no amount of sex, drugs, and rock & roll seemed to fill the gap she’d left. Sure, it had only been two weeks, but as life went in this messed up world two weeks was basically a lifetime, and a year was ancient history. They were taking more risks, as if deathrides weren’t risky enough of a way to make a living in this new dark age, and Ronnie knew that sooner or later it was going to catch up with them. As it was, he took what small pleasures he could in his pleasant memories of Miranda blowing him even as he caught glimpses of Gretchen getting throated by his best friend in the back seat.

 

Finally Fitz let go of Gretchen's hair and pulled away, leaving trails of spit from his cock to her lips as she pulled her top off and unfastened her bra. Fitz helped her slip off the skirt, revealing her shaved pussy and the delicate loop of metal transfixing her clit. Gretchen turned around to face the front of the car and leaned down to nibble on Ronnie's ear before lowering herself onto Fitz's glistening shaft. The young woman started moving up and down on the stiff cock as Fitz gripped her slim waist and used his own strength to slam his cock in and out of her as they worked together.

 

At first Gretchen was holding the driver's side seatback to keep herself steady, then as Ronnie swerved to hit another zombie the blood from the creature splattered across the front of the car and the wind carried much of the spray over the hood and across her naked body. Gretchen screamed in ecstasy as she started spreading the blood and gore across her body, squeezing her own nipples as Fitz relentlessly fucked her from below. Soon the waves of another orgasm washed over Gretchen and she fell back against the seat. Fitz kissed her between the shoulder blades and groaned as she began filling her with a hot orgasm of his own. She bucked against him as he gripped her waist and kept thrusting as he came inside of her.

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