by Z. Allora
Alex waited for her to begin again, but nothing happened. Why had she stopped so soon?
His mother clutched her throat, an alarming shade of red suffusing her face. She stumbled to the bedroom door and grasped the frame. The tumbler shattered against the floor and sent chunks of crystal, indistinguishable from the ice cubes, scattering across the floor.
Alex crunched over the glass. Shards cutting his bare feet didn’t stop him as he flew to her side. I hope my bloody footprints don’t stain her floor.
“Mama. Mama!”
She gasped for breath but still weakly shoved him away. She never let him touch her. He’d been forbidden to lay a hand on her since he was eight, when she declared him unfit and dirty.
When she fell to the floor, he ignored her protests and tried to intervene, but it was too late; she wasn’t responding to his ministrations. Her eyes stared out of her still body, and the rope slipped from her limp hand.
Everything became surreal. His dream morphed, granting him unwanted memory flashes of the hospital, the somber doctor who told him she choked to death, his mother’s church friends chasing him out of her funeral service.
The dream slowed.
Alex was grateful to the icy rain, which drenched him and hid his tears as he hiked on the back roads to the cemetery. If he hurried he wouldn’t miss his chance to say goodbye. He failed to hear the words the priest uttered at the gravesite because he dared not get too close. He stayed out of sight as his mother’s coffin sank into the ground.
Standing over the grave, he tried to form his own words of farewell. None came. He stayed by her side until men came to push the pile of dirt over her.
When the workers left after patting down the fresh dirt, the finality of the moment reinforced he was alone in the world. He had absolutely no one. His mother was gone. She hadn’t allowed him friends, and he had no other family.
Empty and lost, he didn’t know what he was supposed to do.
Numb, he trudged back through the muddy roads and wet streets to his house. Too exhausted, he didn’t even react when he found two strangers sitting on his porch. A dark-skinned mountain of a man sat with his legs kicked up on the railing in a way his mother would not have approved.
The other man stopped pacing as soon as he noticed Alex. “We are so sorry for your loss,” he said in a deep voice with a refined Southern accent.
“Thank you.” Other than the doctor and two nurses, this was the only time anyone acknowledged he’d lost his mother… his world gone. “Did you know my mother?”
“No, Alex, I did not. My name is Beau Renau,” the man said as he tossed his wavy hair over his shoulder. “And that’s Lafayette Renau.”
Alex was rooted to the spot, unsure of what to do. They weren’t friends of his mother, so how did the guy know his name?
Beau pulled Alex onto the porch, out of the rain and into a hug. He muttered, “Sorry we weren’t here sooner.”
“What? Why? Oh—” Alex was overwhelmed by the stranger’s embrace. It was the first human contact he’d had in almost ten years. The simple gesture of kindness broke him. He shattered like the shards of crystal that still decorated his bedroom floor, and just like the glass, he’d never be whole again.
His tears flowed for an eternity, but eventually they dried up, thanks to Beau’s fancy lace hankie. “Who are you?” Alex asked, examining the delicate fabric.
“I’ll let Lafayette explain,” Beau replied as he stepped back.
Lafayette groaned. “Fine. It’s my turn.” He kicked off the rail to put the chair down with a thud. He stood up, threw an arm around Alex’s shoulder, and guided them around a table to the porch swing. The muscular man tested the chains holding up the seat before plopping down.
“Sit,” Lafayette demanded when Alex hesitated.
His mother never let him sit in the swing, so he sat on the railing and picked at the peeling white paint.
“You like scary movies?”
“What?” Alex had never had much opportunity to watch them, since his mother wouldn’t allow a television in the house, and she certainly wouldn’t let him waste money to see movies. He’d overheard kids at school talking about the latest scary thriller suspense every Monday morning in homeroom. They sounded good. “I guess.”
“Well, do you know zombies aren’t like what you see on the silver screen?” Lafayette pointed at Alex as if he’d done something wrong.
His mother was dead. Why were they here to talk to him about zombies? “Zombies?”
Beau wafted out a put-upon sigh. “I’ll do it.” He gave Alex a toothy grin. “Some people inherit a genetic mutation that causes them to turn into something like a zombie.” He was quick to add, “But zombie is just a simplified way of looking at our condition.”
“Your condition?” Alex measured the distance off the railing to the thorny rose brushes circling the porch. He’d get scratched to bits, but he might be able to outrun them even with his still-sliced-up feet.
“And yours.”
“Huh?” My condition? Right. What was he saying?
Beau waved a hand, gesturing to the three of them. “You’re like us.”
Nope. Alex didn’t want to be rude, and insanity was a sad thing, but he wasn’t up to dealing with it on his porch. “Thank you for coming over. I appreciate your condolences, but I just want to go to bed and sleep for a week.” Guilt pecked at him. His mother wouldn’t allow him more than six hours sleep a night. She believed anything longer equated to laziness.
“That’s one of the symptoms. Your nineteenth birthday’s coming up,” Lafayette stated.
How did he know? So what? Lots of people had birthdays.
Beau clarified, “The transition starts at nineteen and completes at twenty-three. We’ve created a haven for people with this condition to get what they need.”
“Brains?” Alex almost laughed.
“Ew! No, we don’t need brains.” Beau’s expression of disgust did make Alex smile until the man spoke again. “We search for our mates. Once we find them, we’re bound to them.” Beau dreamily gazed at Lafayette.
Lafayette met Beau’s stare. They shared a moment Alex shouldn’t have been privy to, so he cleared his throat and jarred the strangers back from the dreamland they’d drifted off to.
“I don’t understand. What are you saying?” ’Cause Alex’s accounting of the information they were giving him couldn’t possibly add up to…. No!
“We’d have been here earlier, but we had an unexpected situation,” Beau said. “We’re pretty sure you’ll be transitioning. Our doctor has a ninety-nine percent accuracy at identifying….”
Alex leaned away from these men. “What do you mean… transition?”
“You’re a zombie,” Lafayette stated.
Why was he entertaining these crazy men? Was he so desperate to belong?
Yes… yes, he was.
Before consciousness reclaimed Alex, the last image the dream granted him was of Ulrich’s smiling face. He bolted upright in bed.
He used his crisp white sheet to dry his face of sweat and tears. Alex hated to dream. The experience was never pleasant and left him unsettled for hours. Maybe he deserved to be punished.
No, the therapist who was working with him said he needed to change his negative dialogue. He didn’t deserve to be punished. He’d done nothing wrong. And now he had Uli.
He caught his breath and grounded himself in the present by glancing around his all-white bedroom and out the window to the grounds of Club Zombie. The delicate lace curtains blew in the early morning breeze sweeping across the estate gardens. It was another perfect spring day in South Carolina.
His tidy room was empty, save for an ornately decorated antique chinoiserie dresser, originally from his grandmother’s house. A lone photo adorned the top of the painted chest—a framed image of Uli and Alex riding horses. He didn’t need anything else.
His phone chirped, and he checked the screen and smiled. Beau had texted: Good Morning!
<
br /> He texted back, Enjoy your day.
Even though Beau and Lafayette had their hands full with the unruly group of zombies, they still managed to make him feel welcome and cared for.
After Alex’s initial reluctance to believe their claims, he actually wasn’t bothered to find out he would be transitioning into a zombie. Since zombies didn’t die as long as they ingested essence, he wouldn’t need to worry about the dire consequences his mother had threatened would rain down on him for having unclean thoughts.
For the first time, he belonged, was part of a community. However, after almost three years of living with the sexually expressive zombies, he still didn’t quite fit in. Everyone considered him a prude because he didn’t engage in sexual acts. But even without intimacy, he experienced a kinship with some of the men he held dear.
To survive, zombies needed to participate in things his mother had deemed vile. They required male essence, ejaculate, to survive. Without it they ceased to function. He’d not fault them for obtaining it, nor would he judge, but even with all the therapy, his mother’s conditioning still held strong. He refused to partake in the activities Club Zombie offered to receive essence directly from the male patrons.
Anytime an impure thought or action attempted to arouse Alex, the memory of the beatings drove away his desire and stopped him. It seemed impossible for him to put his past behind him. Luckily, the doctor provided him with the essence—attained in a less seductive way—that he required in order to function.
Alex tiptoed across the hallway of their small apartment. Sometimes when he was upset, he sneaked a peek at his roommate while Ulrich slept. It was a bit stalkerish, but sometimes, just watching the German expatriate sleep calmed Alex down.
Maybe it was Uli’s precognitive abilities, but he usually knew Alex would be joining him, so instead of being creeped out, Uli usually woke up and invited Alex into bed, and they’d watch a movie. If the movie was scary, chances were good Uli would hug him tight. When the action got too intense on the TV or computer, Uli hid his face against Alex. His mother would have branded him a pervert, but Alex drank in the innocent contact. He craved the times he could protect Ulrich from the scary monsters. It made him feel worthy of their friendship.
Being with his Uli made him want all the things his mother had tried to beat out of him, but Alex didn’t care, because Uli filled the empty places in his heart with happiness and light. He wouldn’t give up his Ulrich for anything.
Alex pushed the door open to find the blue-eyed, almost-nineteen-year-old naked on his bed, laptop on his chest, and grasping his private area with one hand. Oh God! Uli stroked his erection, and his quiet moans excited Alex, transfixing him.
Uli moved his fist faster and dug his heels into the bed. His breathing grew labored, and a slight sheen of sweat broke out on his bare arms, face, and neck. His slender body trembled, and then went rigid.
Alex’s heart pounded against his rib cage. He tried to take a step back, but instead he continued to be rooted to the spot. He needed to leave. Now!
Uli had headphones on and the computer screen blocked his view of the door. Maybe his precognitive abilities didn’t work when he… he….
Alex should go and pretend he never witnessed such a thing.
Ulrich tugged faster, and his member glided in and out of his fist. Uli pleasuring himself was the most alluring sight Alex had ever seen.
“Alex?” Uli squeaked as he peered around the computer screen, squinting. He yanked the cotton sheet over him.
Caught! How could Alex have been so stupid? He’d spied on someone who should be able to trust him.
“Sorry… um, sorry.” Alex spun around and banged into the doorframe at full escape speed… and promptly fell on his butt. “Ow!” That would leave a bump on his head and a bruise on his butt.
Uli crouched at his side, showing no shame at his nudity or erection. “You okay, man?” His friend inspected the throbbing bump on Alex’s forehead with gentle fingers. “Let me get you some ice.” Uli darted out of the room.
Before Alex said no, Ulrich reappeared with a bag of ice wrapped in a dishtowel. “Here.”
“Thanks.” Alex turned to apologize, but Ulrich’s penis throbbed in his face.
Uli was still hard and a clear drop leaked from the tip. Alex swiped his tongue over his dry lips. The long cock in front of him flexed again. He raised his gaze to say something, but Uli’s eyes were focused on Alex’s mouth.
It baffled Alex, but for some reason, men found him attractive. Their attention was uncomfortable—the unwanted come-ons, suggestions, and those purposeful “accidental” touches nauseated him. He hesitated to make friends with the other zombies. They always wanted something else, something he wasn’t willing to give.
Alex had been at Club Zombie for over two years before Ulrich moved in with him. Ulrich was the only true friend he’d ever had. He wished Uli would want something else with him, but unlike most of the other zombies, Ulrich never gawked with lust. He and Ulrich were just friends.
Alex fluttered his eyelashes and licked his lips again to see if Uli would react to him.
Ulrich stood and stepped back, swallowing hard. “Hey, um, sorry you found me doing that. I forgot to lock the door.”
Disappointed, Alex pushed the cold towel against his head and hissed with pain he probably deserved. “Sorry I walked in.”
“You want to come into the bed with me?” Uli’s eyes sparkled in a way Alex had never seen before.
This is a very bad idea. “Yes.”
3
Want to Come… In
“Bad dream?” Uli helped him up.
God, Alex’s beauty always stunned Ulrich. But he shouldn’t drool over his roommate when Cutter was his mate. He’d seen that clearly. Uli and Cutter would be very happy together.
Why? He had kept himself in check around Alex since the day he came to Club Zombie, but right now, aroused and holding his hand didn’t help. Let alone the genius idea of inviting him into bed.
“Yeah.” Alex’s gaze kept drifting back to Uli’s erection, which intensified everything. He let go of Uli’s hand, and his cheeks were still bright pink.
“You want to talk about your dream?”
Alex had never spoken about his nightmares to anyone but Ulrich. “No. But I should….” He gestured to the door, then pointed to the bed. “You were….”
Ulrich prayed Alex would understand and not mention it again. “Yeah, you know how it is.”
Alex didn’t understand and shook his head. “No, not really.”
Uli laughed. “Come on, man. Don’t make me out like a perv. We all do it.” He jerked his hand back and forth to demonstrate.
Alex frowned. “I don’t.”
“What? Of course, you do. Everyone does that.” Uli felt the need to remind himself it was natural.
Alex appeared taken back. “I mean….”
But what did he mean? Uli had no clue what he meant. “Bullshit. You don’t jerk off?”
Shaking his head made Alex’s long blond hair flow over his shoulders like spun gold. Uli longed to run his fingers through the strands. Irrational jealousy raced through him, twining around his heart.
“What? You seeing someone?” His accusation was tinged with a growl. “Storm?”
“No. No, I’m not seeing anyone. Don’t be mad at me. I just don’t… do that.”
“But I thought your therapist gave you that as homework.”
“I just couldn’t do… that.”
Uli plopped on the edge of his bed and stared at Alex’s lap. He could clearly see Alex’s wayward penis pulse within its cotton confines. “But you’re hard.”
“So?” Alex bent a knee to turn so as to de-emphasize his plight.
This was out of Ulrich’s understanding. “Um, well, when I get hard, I want to come.”
“Like now.” Alex couldn’t miss Ulrich’s bobbing erection.
Ulrich nodded. Not like he could get away with lying, sitting with a boner tha
t could plow a field.
Turning away, Alex’s gaze landed on the computer. “What were you watching?”
“Oh, um, some porn.”
Alex’s eyes got super huge, and his pretty lips went into an O. “Really? Pornography? Right here in the bedroom?”
“Where else would I be watching it? You’ve seen porn, right?”
“With my mother, I didn’t dare glance at the models in the Sunday paper circulars. Once, she caught me reading an ad because I didn’t believe the sale price, and she thrashed me for staring at the evil pictures for too long.”
Uli wished he could dig Alex’s mother up and kill her himself. How could anyone mistreat this wonderfully sweet and delicate man?
“Really? You want to watch with me?” The offer slipped out of his mouth because Uli focused too much on the bulge in his shorts.
“Um….” Alex licked his lips, sending shivers through Uli. “Okay.”
Uli pounded his feather pillows to make them comfortable for Alex. He always fluffed them when Alex joined him in bed for the movies.
Alex looked sinful and lush, but his blush made him appear adorable. “Thank you.”
And ever so polite and lovable—what would he enjoy watching? After grabbing the laptop, Uli clicked away and entered his password. The screen filled with two men. He pulled the headphone plug from the jack. Sparse dialogue filled the room. “Here, I think you’ll like this one.”
Alex swallowed hard and took a swig of Uli’s soda.
Uli was concerned about how pale Alex had gone. This was a pretty basic video, no fetishes, just straight-up gay sex. “You okay?”
“I’m not hurting anyone. I’m an adult and I can do what I want. Plus, if you’re watching this, it can’t be wrong, right?” Alex sounded like he was justifying what they were doing.
Ulrich felt the need to confirm it. “Right. Porn is simply eye candy.”
The computer screen displayed two men going into a locker room. The muscular actors tossed their football helmets into lockers and undressed. Within two minutes, the actors’ uniforms lay scattered across the floor, leaving them naked and heading for the shower—one that Ulrich didn’t think they’d get around to taking.