Eat Your Heart Out by Dayna Ingram

Eat Your Heart Out by Dayna Ingram

Author:Dayna Ingram
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: gay, zombies, lesbian, zombie, living dead, flesheating, night of the living dead, gay women, dykes
Publisher: Lethe Press, Inc.


Chapter 6: A Midsummer Night’s Dead

Renni Ramirez takes me back to her hotel room. Damn, how many lesbians out there wish they could say that? If I live to make it to my ten-year high school reunion, that’s all I want my little blurb to say: Devin Julian, Class of ’07, voluntarily taken back to Renni Ramirez’s hotel room. I’d win some kind of silly award, I’m sure.

Unfortunately, the hotel room is pretty much where the fantasy ends. Well, okay, that’s not exactly true. Renni Ramirez does tell me to take off my clothes, but it isn’t super sexy or anything, considering how bloody and gross and kind of covered in my own urine I am. I’m not even embarrassed to undress in front of her—I think I became immune to embarrassment sometime between elbowing her in the nose and peeing all over her dress. It takes me a little while to get the dress off, because lifting my arms over my head is nearly impossible. Renni helps me slide the spaghetti straps off my arms and pull the dress down over my hips instead, which stretches it out but at this point the dress is a lost cause anyway. I take off my underwear and Renni puts all my clothes into a plastic Kroger shopping bag. She leans into the tub and turns on the hot water.

“I’ll find you something to wear,” she says, and goes out, closing the door behind her.

We should have gone to a hospital, but we noticed on our way back through the city that some major changes were underway, namely that everyone was getting the fuck out of town. We saw a few pockets of zombies chasing down pedestrians, and Renni stopped when she could to fire off a few bullets into their heads to give the people some more time to escape. Some people decided to loot, as will happen in moments of crisis, so Renni decided to abandon any urban centers. I told her the National Guard woman’s story about her aunt barely escaping Saint Mary’s hospital, and we both agreed it was safest to stay away, even with the extent of my injuries. Renni told me she was staying at an EconoLodge near the highway, which I thought was kind of ridiculous, but she reminded me of her original plan to keep a low profile. On the way to the hotel, we swung by a pharmacy that Renni had to break into while I sat on the idling bike, white-knuckling her rifle (most of our other weapons were abandoned back at the porn shop, or left in Bambi’s car) and looking around me at the barren streets with something bordering on hysteria. Luckily, Renni didn’t take too long grabbing up disinfectant, more painkillers, some antibiotics, and proper bandages.

In the bathroom, I reset the water’s temperature to cold, because my wounds are already making my whole body hot. I take a moment before stepping into the shower to finally examine my body. My shoulder is the worst, being the freshest.



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