This story is a collaborative effort between PogueMahone and myself. If you like it, you might enjoy some of our other work, which can be found here:

http://www.hentai-foundry.com/stories/user/JestInPieces
http://www.hentai-foundry.com/stories/user/Melatonin

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There are more chapters to come. Enjoy!

ZomBFFs

written by JestInPieces and PogueMahone

Chapter 1: Once shy, twice bitten

“Ow, my head.”

Clara blinked against the bright sunlight. She raised her right hand to block out the sun and opened her eyes. Right in the middle of her bare forearm was a blood-stained bite mark. For a moment, she struggled to remember how it had gotten there, her memory a swirl of confusing images. Then everything suddenly popped into focus. She had been walking across campus with her best friend Janet when a man had come running up to them. His skin had been grey and he was slobbering and growling, like a wild animal. Or a zombie.

But that couldn’t be. Zombies weren’t real.

There’d been a stab of pain, then a loud bang, like a gun going off. Then darkness. Her eyes flew open. Where was Janet? She looked to her left, but instead of the girl she was looking for she saw the man that had attacked her, lying face down on the ground with his head in a pool of blood. There was a gaping hole in the back of his head, revealing a mass of pink and red. She quickly turned away, choking back the bile she felt rising in her throat. She looked to her right, and her relief was almost palpable when she saw the body of her brunette friend lying next to her in the grass. She quickly crawled over to her and patted her cheek.

“Janet? Janet, are you okay?”

“Unnnnhhhhh,” Janet groaned. “Five more minutes.”

Janet was not allowed to doze, being forcefully shaken awake.

“Jeez, what… actually, why am I asleep outside? With you? Oh my god, it’s summer camp all over again. Please tell me we have clothes this time–”

“Janet, this is serious!”

Clara showed off the clearly dead man, which Janet took slightly better than her friend did.

“Oh. Well, shit. This is serious, huh? Wait, the fuck?”

The brunette looked down at her leg; there was a tear, with a little bit of blood.

“Did that fucker ''bite'' me? And you?!”

They both looked down at the corpse. Grey skin. Shambling. Biting… it couldn’t be, could it? There was only one thing they could do to learn the truth.

“Two secs, I’m gonna check Facebook”

“…Well, fuck,” said Janet, putting words to both of their thoughts.

“You can say that again. This is not how I saw my life ending… or, um, my pre-life? How does this work? I suppose I’m still alive… or undead?”

She mulled this over for a few seconds before exclaiming “Ugh, I can’t believe I died a fucking virgin! That bitch Cynthia was right after all! Fuck!”

“Aw, honey,” Janet chuckled. “I’ve told you before I’d be happy to help you out with that. I promise, playing for the other team is way more fun. You might have been a virgin in life, but you don’t have to be one in your, um, unlife.”

“I might just take you up on that offer. But I, for one, don’t plan on making out right here in the middle of a zombie apocalypse. Let’s get up and get our bearings, find somewhere to hole up, gather supplies… wait. Do we still need food? Or are we turning into zombies and should we be looking for brains? Jesus, how have we seen so many zombie movies and yet we’re still this unprepared?”

Not knowing exactly where they stood, what to do, where to go, who to call or even what they were, the girls decided that the best course of action was a simple one: to go back to their dorm apartment and lay low. In other words, what they always did, although with maybe just a little more existential dread than usual.

“It’s a lot quieter than I thought it would be. Maybe it was only, like, a couple of zombies,” said Clara as they slunk into the deserted building. It was true; there hadn’t been a soul in sight so far. There was, however, a lot of blood in the hallways. “Yeeaah, doubting the wisdom of this now.”

“Oh it’s fine, Clara. Come on and let’s grab some stuff out the apartment,” laughed Janet, walking ahead.

Clara stared. “Um, Janet? Your ponytail is kind of… falling off…”

“Huh? What?” asked Janet, turning her head, trying to look behind her. Her pony tail, naturally, turned right along with it, and a few more strands of brown hair came loose and fell down when it bumped into her shoulder. Not being able to see, she tentatively raised a hand over her shoulder and gave a light pull on her pony tail. Most of it came right off, and she stared at the clump of hair in her hand. She gulped.

“So much for being immune to the zombie virus, I guess.”

Clara grabbed a strand of the red hair that fell past her shoulders and tugged on it. Then once more when it didn’t come off.

“Huh. Maybe I’m like Ellie in The Last of Us, the only one immune the zombie vi–” Clara stopped and frowned. She moved her jaw from side to side a little before opening her mouth and reaching in with her thumb and forefinger. She pulled out something small, red and white. Letting it drop into her palm, she spread her hand out, giving Janet a better look. It was a tooth.

“…Or maybe not.”

“Great. Just great,” said Janet, ditching her ponytail and sighing. “Well, guess there’s not much we can do…”

“We could go to the hospital, maybe?”

“Yeah, great idea; can’t believe only you and every other person in the city thought of it. Never go to hospitals during a zombie epidemic, that’s basic.”

Janet opened the door to their messy apartment, taking a look around.

“Good news is, it’s safe in here.”

“So what, we’re just gonna mess around on the sofa?!”

“If we’re gonna slowly fall apart and zombify in the next few hours, I wanna do it somewhere comfy. Come on, get in. I’ll make poptarts.”

Janet walked in, before promptly tripping over the carpet, tumbling over…

“Ow.”

“I told you that was going to happen one of these days.”

“I know, I know, but it really ties the room together.”

Clara walked around her, leaned down and extended her hand.

“Here, let me help you up.”

Janet took the offered hand.

“Okay, one… two…”

On three, Janet was pulled upwards. She put her knees under her and got to her feet.

“Thanks Clara, much oblig–”

She saw the look of shock on Clara’s face, her eyes wide and her mouth hanging open.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, looking down, following the redhead’s gaze.

“Oh.”

Her right arm was still lying on the floor.

She looked at her shoulder, which now ended right there, with only a ragged wound where her arm had been, the tank top she was wearing doing nothing to hide the sight.

“Crap.”

“Fuck! I’m so sorry!” said Clara. Not really thinking, she bent down and picked the arm up, offering it to Janet. The one-armed brunette stared.

“Uh, it’s fine, not your fault…” she took the arm, holding it and marveling at the lack of sensation when she squeezed it. Her arm was now basically just…

“Meat,” she said, quietly.

Clara stared, then stepped back slightly.

“Uh, no, I didn’t meant that in a zombie way!”

“Uh-huh,” Clara said warily. “You just let me know if I start looking like a turkey leg with arms like they do in cartoons when somebody’s really hungry, okay?”

“Look, all I’m saying is it’s not going to magically reattach itself,” she said, smooshing the bloody end of her arm against the stump of her shoulder with no effect, “so we might as well treat it for what it is. And since you brought it up: maybe it would be a good idea to put this in the fridge, just in case we do end up going all John Romero?”

“Ew, no! Just… I don’t know, toss it out or something.”

“But it’s my ''arm''! I’m not just going to toss it out!”

“''You’re'' the one who called it meat. And speaking of meat, we really should do something about that shoulder of yours. Let me go grab the first aid kit.”

As soon as Clara had stepped into the bathroom, Janet quickly but quietly opened the refrigerator and shoved her arm inside.

“All right, here we go. Sit down on your bed and let me have a look at you.”

Janet went into her room, full of posters of obscure bands and DVD cases, collapsing into her unmade bed. It was a much needed dose of familiarity.

Clara sat down and inspected the wound. The muscle and skin were torn and ragged, and the bone was clearly visible in the middle. She grimaced, then gave it a poke with a pair of tweezers.

“How does that feel?”

“Honestly not that painful, considering,” shrugged Janet.

It was true; having an arm torn out of its socket hadn’t really hurt at all.

“Do you feel weird anywhere else?” asked Clara.

“Not… really? Here, let me strip off,” replied Janet, peeling off her tank top.

“H–hey, wait, this isn’t a full medical–”

“It is now, doc. Work your magic.”

Clara blinked. This was the first time she been face to face with a pair of boobs other than her own. Sure, she’d caught some glimpses in the shower after gym class in high school, and of course she’d seen her share of porn, but she’d never seen a real pair so close. She had to admit Janet had a lovely pair of tits. She might have fantasized about them once or twice ever since the brunette had offered to sleep with her a few years ago, but she’d never quite imagined them this soft yet firm. She could just reach out and touch…

She shook herself and cleared her throat. No. There were serious matters to attend to. Her friend was hurt, and needed medical attention. But perhaps she combine business and pleasure… and since Janet insisted on a full medical…

She looked down at Janet’s jeans, than back up at her face and, in a voice that sounded more confident than she felt, she said dryly “Pants too, please.”

This elicited a big grin from the brunette, who started to slide her jeans off. Or tried to, at least.

“Urgh, this isn’t easy with one hand, you know…”

“Oh, fine. You better hope I don’t lose a hand too,” said Clara, bending down and pulling the waistband down, ‘accidentally’ pulling her friends panties down along with them.

“Woah, getting a little ahead of yourself there, nurse,” said Janet, although she made no real attempt to cover herself. Clara’s confident air took a blow as she came face to face – or, rather, face to cunt – with Janet’s holiest of holes. She lingered for a moment before sliding the rest of the jeans off.

“Might be easier if you just go about naked, you know. Not like you should worry about catching a cold now,” she laughed, before putting a hand to her friend’s forehead.

“Actually… wow, you’re really cold…”

She rummaged around in the first aid kit, pulling out a thermometer. She held it out in front of Janet’s mouth, who took one look at it before pressing her lips together and shaking her head.

“Uh-uh. Not happening.”

Confused, Clara looked at the thermometer.

“Why not?”

“Read the bit of text near the middle.”

“Recta– oh. Right.”

A blush appeared on Clara’s cheeks.

“Aw, aren’t you adorably shy,” chuckled Janet. “I’ll have you know that I never go this far on a first date, but I suppose given the circumstances….”

She climbed onto the bed, getting on her knees, and bent down until her head was lying on her pillow, her ass up in the air. She gave it a wiggle.

“Have at it, doc.”

Clara gripped the thermometer so tightly that she almost snapped it in half right there.

“Um… I…”

“Oh just do it, come on. We might be slobbering, brainless wrecks in a few hours. Literally, given the way this is all going.”

Janet reached her one remaining hand around and spread her cheek, giving Clara a better view of her hole.

“Get a-measuring. Now.”

“Okay, okay, jeez.”

The redhead gingerly slipped the thermometer inside, with more ease than she had expected. After waiting a little while, she checked the temperature.

“Hmmm, much lower than normal– ''hey''!”

Janet, not particularly caring about the medical details, slid herself ass-first towards Clara, swallowing up more than just the thermometer…