Hello! It`s time for Tuesday Tales.
It's time to have more zombie fun! Today we have another excerpt from my LGBTQ zom-rom-com Two Guys Walk Into an Apocalypse 4 - Zombies, Zendra, and Ziegfeld Follies. This story contains crude language, gore because of the darn zombies, and gay sexual situations. If that offends now would be the time to move onto another Tuesday Tales offering.
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"That certainly is good news. Your value to us has just quadrupled. News along the border is that Zendra is very interested in fags and dykes." He lifted my gun from her face then waved at the crying girl. She was hustled back into the woods, tripping and falling over her dirty bare feet, two men roughly escorting her."Thank you for telling me your name, Mr. Cooke, but when I asked where you were from, I didn't mean before the plague, I meant where are you from now? Where's your camp? Where are the others you live with?"
"I'm alone now," I replied as I studied the direction Iris had been drug off in. "My husband was infected." I'd heard once that the best lies had truth in them.
Mercury shook his head while placing my handgun back to the table at his left. Someone behind me delivered a kick to the back of my right leg. I went to one knee with a pained grunt.
"See, that's not the truth, Mr. Cooke. No one goes solo anymore. It's too dangerous. Safety in numbers, pack mentality, all that stuff." Mercury poured himself a glass of cold water and took a small sip, a devious smile tickling the corners of his mouth. He was the epitome of relaxation and nonchalance, as if he were sipping flavored water at an outdoor cafe. "Ah, that is refreshing." He took time to place his glass back to the table and pat at his mouth with a neatly folded handkerchief extracted from the inner pocket of his suit jacket. "So, where are you from?"
"I'm going it alone."
Mercury shook his head while tsking me softly. "I strongly suspect that's not the case, Mr. Cooke. Slug, have at it, but make sure he doesn't die. Zendra will cough up enough weapons, ammo, and provisions for his gay little ass to last us for six months." Mercury stood up and placed his hat atop his head. "Oh, and since he won't be going to a private customer, the ban on not hitting that movie star face is now lifted."
Off he went, into the woods, whistling Zip-A-Dee-Do-Dah.
Copyright 2016 ©by V.L. Locey
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