The Coalition: Part II The Lord Of The Living (COALITON OF THE LIVING Book 2) by Robert Mathis Kurtz Page B

easily, and they had eaten, filling their bellies with the MREs stacked neatly in boxes. The toilet in the tiny bathroom still worked if you primed it with a gallon or two of water from the stored jugs. They took turns using the facility and ridding themselves of the waste.
    Oliver had succumbed to fatigue first, and they had prepared an air mattress for him and rolled out a light sleeping bag. His two guardians then watched over him until he fell into a deep sleep. They left him in the smaller of the two rooms, away from the metal entrance, and made up their own sleeping pallets, whispering as they worked.
    “What do you think happened? With our guests?” She was talking about the zombies who had been in the safe house when they’d entered it.
    “Who knows?” Ron said. “That guy…Weller. He was an OK fellow. Watched out for himself, but I saw him help out other people when they needed a hand. Once I saw…” he shrugged. “Hell, it doesn’t matter what I saw anymore. He’s dead.
    “If I had to guess, I’d say he needed some refuge, knew about this place, and used the combination to get in. And I think the girl was already in here and already dead. She looked riper than he did. They were both covered in bites, if you noticed. I figure she came in already bitten, died, and when Weller needed to use the place, he let his guard down and wasn’t expecting a deader to be in here. Hell…she could have been sitting in the other room, or in the head. Who fucking knows?” He lay back on his pallet, letting the tension go out of his body for the first time that day. “It doesn’t matter anymore. He’s dead. The girl—whoever she was—she’s dead, too. They’re both lying out there on the loading dock where they’ll rot and go to dust.”
    Joining him, Jean reclined on her side of the makeshift bed. She was quiet. Oliver’s even breathing came to her from the adjoining space.
    “He’s fast asleep,” she whispered to Ron. “If we’re quiet, we won’t wake him.”
    Ron made no reply and when he realized that she was taking her pants down , he helped her pull them off. Carefully, he kicked off his boots and unzipped his own jeans, tugging them down as quickly as he could. He almost groaned when she reached out and gripped his already erect shaft.
    “Hush,” she whispered, and pulled him toward her, guiding him into her where he began to quietly and carefully thrust. She was already wet and there was no need at all for the foreplay in which they customarily engaged.
    “I need this,” she groaned under her breath. His reply was only to continue stroking away, giving her more of what she needed.
    Through one of the vents , they could hear the casual shuffling of dead feet as the shamblers slowly tired of waiting for them at the door and, one by one, wandered off into the darkening night. When they could no longer hear the undead at their door, they gave up all but the sounds of their passion, Ron thrusting into Jean’s vagina, his woman’s legs forcing her pelvis up to meet those thrusts.
    “I’m cuming,” she said, breaking the silence, just barely, her lips at his ear. “Cum with me baby,” she groaned.
    As he spent into her, Ron held back his own calls of pleasure which died in his chest. Collapsing, he lay beside her, his breath labored, but still quiet, his attention on the even and almost silent snoring of Oliver. “Jesus,” he whispered.
    “We’d better get our pants and boots back on,” Jean said, rolling to a sitting position to gather the clothing to her.
    Ron nodded, realizing that of course she couldn’t see him in the darkness that had enclosed them, but he did as she suggested. You could never take any chances in this world. Not anymore. He drew his pants on and then laced his boots. “You go on and sleep,” he told her. “I’ll take the first watch.”
    “You sure?” she asked.
    He nodded again, realized what he was doing, and replied. “Yeah. I’ll be fine. Sex is a