Half a Million Dead Cannibals

HALF A MILLION DEAD CANNIBALS

By

Kari Gregg

Copyright © 2017 Kari Gregg

Editor: Keirstin Cherry

Cover by: Emmy Ellis @ Studio NP

All rights reserved.

This book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead or undead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Warning: This book contains strong language, violence, sexually explicit situations, and may be considered offensive to some readers. This book is for adults only.

Dedication

To E, for sharing the potato gun

All that’s keeping Riley from the man he’s falling in love with are the ruins of a city filled with half a million dead cannibals.

Strangers, Riley and Graham sheltered together in a basement storage unit when the zombie outbreak slammed into the world three months ago. They lived through the first blast of the plague, but they may not last much longer among survivors scrambling for dwindling resources. They agree to hike from the city and to the safety of the mountains. They didn’t count on the storm they hoped would cover their exit developing into a Nor’easter, though, and they sure didn’t think their visibility would shrink so badly that they’d hike into the leading edge of a zombie swarm, either. In the chaos of escaping the ravenous horde, they are separated, with Graham racing toward feral dog packs to the east and Riley sprinting to hostile survivors hunting them to the west.

Nobody said finding and keeping a quality guy (alive) during the apocalypse would be easy.

Chapter One

This wasn’t the first morning Riley awoke to Graham’s cock, carefully shielded behind twin layers of boxers, pressed into Riley’s ass. This wasn’t the first morning Riley had swum up from sleep to the prickle of Graham’s hand on his belly either. Graham usually woke eons before Riley did. Riley guessed the early hours were a carryover from Graham’s other life when he’d reported to job sites to pour concrete at dawn. Riley had been a waiter at Geo’s before the world ended. His flirty smile and pert ass had yielded bountiful tips from charmed customers, but those tips meant working late shifts at the club. The old Riley had rarely dragged his butt out of bed before noon.

Sometimes, Graham huddled with him under the blankets. As the days got shorter and colder, Graham wasn’t in a rush to exit a warm tent any faster than Riley. Spooned together, they shared body heat. The basement storage unit that sheltered them was insulated against the worst of mid-January’s arctic blast, so Riley and Graham were better off than other survivors in the city. As conventional heat sources ran out, people had foolishly and fatally risked exposure in search of scarce supplies to fight off hypothermia and secondary illnesses. None dared to build fires; smoke would draw zombies for miles. The emergency radio that consumed precious battery life to monitor every day had nonetheless crackled with pleas for medical supplies and fuel. Meanwhile, Riley and Graham snuggled together under toasty warm layers of sleeping bags.

It was three months after the plague. Neither of them talked about how little the radio chattered anymore.

And Graham lingered longer and longer in the cocoon of their bed.

This was the first morning Graham nuzzled Riley’s neck, though.

Riley squirmed, earning Graham’s open palm and splayed fingers at the top of his neatly trimmed treasure trail to hold him in place.

You smell good. Graham resumed sniffing Riley’s throat. Why do you always smell so good?

Because Riley made it his business to look good and smell fantastic, that’s why. As soon as they’d secured their shelter and acquired a source of fresh water on the roof of the building, Riley had started hoarding. Recon missions to forage supplies were fertile with opportunities to feel human again. A bottle of nail polish wasn’t much weight to carry, and once Graham acclimated to his survival buddy being gay, he’d tolerated and then indulged Riley’s quirks. That first sly bottle of nail polish had been followed by lotions to soften his dry skin, eyeliner, and shower gel that smelled like spice. What else was he supposed to do to fill the hours except shiver?

Graham read. For a blue-collar construction worker, the guy plowed through books like crazy—everything from spy thrillers to romance novels. Whatever books they’d found in the building, Graham read. And read. And read.

Riley invested his time in manicures, pedicures, and whatever else might consume the quiet hours. Anything to feel normal again.

It’s the new shower gel, Riley said. You can use it too, if you want.

Graham snorted, his hot breath tickling Riley’s neck.

Yeah, Riley hadn’t thought so either. Graham was the cake-of-soap kind. While Riley had been ecstatic at the home waxing kit he’d discovered in the apartments in the building above them, Graham had skipped shaving altogether. The bristle of his beard scraped Riley’s hypersensitive skin in the most delicious ways.

You going to let me borrow your nail polish next, Riley?

Graham wasn’t mean about it. Even in the beginning, his voice had never been cruel or cutting. He didn’t sneer like other men—especially gay men—had, even before the world went to hell. He’d been alternately fascinated with and mystified by Riley, and that was exactly how Riley liked it. No. The nail polish is mine. Smothering laughter, he elbowed Graham’s stomach. Get your own.

Graham grunted and continued those slow, steady strokes across Riley’s abdomen guaranteed to make Riley’s morning erection leak. He just petted Riley and held him, never pushing it further. Though Riley had repeatedly offered Graham his mouth and his ass, the man didn’t grope. Disappointing but not entirely surprising. Graham was straight, after all.

Riley never stopped hoping.

I was up earlier, Graham said. Heard movement on the street when a crowd of them went after a stray dog.

Riley shuddered. Abandoned by their owners when the plague hit, dogs were more dangerous than zombies these days. Packs hunted the streets for rats and other vermin after dark when the undead were less active, taking down whatever prey they cornered. Riley and Graham hadn’t dared leave the shelter after sunset in weeks. One less dog was great news. Okay.

Walkers are slower now that it’s cold. They aren’t decomposing anymore, so most are still mobile, but even the newer zombies can’t run. I watched them take that dog down. A month ago, no problem, but they wouldn’t have managed to corner the dog today if it hadn’t been injured.

Anxiety coiled in the stomach Graham caressed. We’re too close to the harbor, Riley said, returning to the same tired arguments. There are too many of them between us and the suburbs. Which would be worse. At least in the city, they had more places to hide. We’ll never make it.

We can’t stay here. Graham sighed into Riley’s neck. If zombies don’t get us—

I know.

And Riley did know. He’d spied the city with Graham from upper-story windows and watched occasional roaming herds of undead pack the streets below. He too had seen zombies swarm a shelter two blocks away. He and Graham had realized other survivors were nearby weeks ago, just as those survivors had doubtlessly been aware of them. They’d known, for instance, that those survivors had included kids, because a mom-and-pop grocery a block east had shelves denuded of crayons and cheap toys. Though Riley and Graham had searched, they hadn’t pinpointed the survivors’ location until zombies had massed around a bakery storefront last month. More and more infected had lurched from surrounding neighborhoods until they’d gathered hundreds if not thousands deep. Wood had cracked under the relentless pressure, and the sharp rat-a-tat of gunfire had joined the thunderous moaning of the infected. Then the screams.

That could’ve been him and Graham. If they stayed in the city, one day it would be.

Graham and Riley had learned to stay quiet. Neither of them had recognized