Chapter 4: Freeing the Dead

The clip is empty, but it's been enough. Libby tosses her still smoking gun away. They are backstage, freshly fled from the bar at Titty City, alien corpses strewn across the ground, the makeup mirrors covered with their blood. The bastards got the barkeeper, killed some guests and kidnapped most of the dancers, but not Tiff – no – Tiff and herself are save.

Her best friend Tiffany is dressed in only her underwear, black lingerie, and Tiff's stupid boyfriend Carl is standing behind her, unhooking her bra. Libby could have sworn she has seen the aliens shoot Carl with their lasers before he made it backstage, but that can't be, because here he is, alive and well. Only his head isn't Carl's head anymore. He looks like some weird kind of boar.
Tiff is trying to tell Libby something, but she can't make out the words. "Elizabeth!" Since when do you call me Elizabeth, Tiff? "Miss Johnson!" Oh, come on now, Tiff, it's getting ridiculous. "Libby! LIBBY, WAKE UP!".

When Libby opened her eyes, she was welcomed by two very pink nipples on two very nice tits dangling in front her face. "Tiff,", she stammered, "I... But you said you weren't into girls... that we'd never - "
"Libby!"
When she looked up, it wasn't Tiffany she saw. Tiff didn't have green eyes. It was all wrong – they had made it backstage, yes, but their victory was dream. The aliens had just kept coming. Libby looked past the green eyes and saw the corpse of a blonde freckled girl, buried under a monster. That snapped her out of it. "Claire?"
"Yes. I think you were dreaming. I don't know how you even managed to sleep after all this, but you did." Sleepiness receded quickly and was replaced by a slight pain in the back of her throat, her lungs – and her limbs. Only now she realized that Claire was standing. Libby tried to move her own fingers and felt a rush of triumph when they did. Shaky at first, but getting more steady by the second, Elizabeth Johnson got on her feet. Claire assisted her and her warm touch of her hands was more than welcome. Feeling empowered, Libby asked, "How long was I out?". "About twenty minutes", replied Claire, obviously trying not to look at the morbid scenenery behind her, "but we've been able to move for like ten."
"Speaking of 'we', where is the other girl?"
"I'm here", echoed a voice from her left. The hispanic looking woman had just re-entered the room. With relatively small shoulders and breasts, she was thinner than Claire and had an untrimmed dark bush between her legs where Claire was shaven clean.
"My name is Magdalena", she said with only the hint of a Spanish accent, "but call me Magda". The only thing that appeared big about her were her round, dark brown nipples. Claire had larger, C- to D-Cup breasts, a little bigger than Libby's own, but they fit better to her round form. With Libby's well-trained and muscular body, she considered her large rack to be out of proportions. They even were a hindrance for her job as police officer. But modeling, although she had gotten many offers to start such a career, appeared hollow and stupid to her. She was the kind of person who wanted to do something, and not just look pretty.
Pale hands moved to cover Claire's breasts and shaven pussy, and her gaze met Libby's in confusion. 'Damn it girl, you have to stop staring like some horny teen'. So she started to look for some clothing, but the only option was the Pig Cop's trousers, and those were drenched in blood, cum and piss. Shakily, Magda pointed at the gun the EDF officer had left behind, which was still lying at Libby's feet: "Are you really a Cop?". Libby nodded and picked the weapon up. She weighed it in her hand, checked the magazine. It seemed fit for use. "Why didn't you take it while I was out?" "I will not use such things", said Magda, "I'm a nun."

Great. Just what they needed. There weren't many religious people around anymore. Twelve years ago, during the first alien attack, most religious leaders had prematurely declared the End of Days and welcomed their new alien Overlords. When one man proved them all wrong, most of their flock didn't take too kindly to their shepherds leaving them to the wolves. Religion was a rare thing nowadays, although the cult around Duke Nukem came very close to one, all things considered. Libby decided not to start a religious debate now, though. They had far bigger problems. For example that the pig man's shotgun had been virtually destroyed by the EDF soldier's attack and was absolutely useless now. So she just gave Magda a nod.
"So what do we do now?", asked Claire.
The answer was obvious, but achieving it would be the biggest challenge of their lives. "We get out of here". Libby immediately felt stupid for saying that. 'Right, girl, you get out of here, some weird alien hive you couldn't find your way out of even if you had the floor plan, with hundreds of aliens around waiting to catch you, kill you, or worse'. Claire said no such thing though. She just nodded, and Libby was thankful for that. "Which way, then?" "I'd say we follow the EDF guy – He wanted to get out, apparently. No use in going where he came from."

"And what about her?", asked Magda, pointing at the pig cop's victim. She was too young to end like this, Libby reflected, looking at the poor blonde's freckled ruins. She couldn't have been older than Claire. "We can't just leave her like this", the hispanic woman declared. Libby disliked the nun already. Of course we can. "What's the alternative? Bury her? Did you bring a shovel?"
Magda ignored Libby's sharp tone. "No", she replied, "But I think we should at least get it away from her".
Only now Libby realized that the pig man was still inside his victim in two ways: His malformed penis, still erect somehow, in her vagina and – Libby was not sure which was worse – his tusk in her eye socket.
"We tried to... to get him away", Claire fell in, "but he was too heavy for only the two of us. And you look... stronger. "
Libby had no doubt about that. She followed a rigorous workout in order to stay in shape, and had a steeled body to show for it, muscular, with well-rounded female curves in all the right places. Most women with toned abs didn't have the body type for big breasts as well. Libby did.
"Fine", she said. Moving Beast away from Beauty was the least they could do, and it seemed appropriate. Together, they approached the collapsed pig cop to haul him up. The smell, a combination of blood, urine, death and the way he smelled anyway, was nose-numbing. With digust and horror on their faces, three living women tried to free a dead one. "On three", said Libby. The others nodded, looking at her in a way that people look at a leader. Even when not wearing her uniform (or anything, for that matter), Elizabeth Johnson had an air of authority about her, and she knew it.

"One, two... three". They moaned, they pulled, he moved. Slowly but steadily, the three of them managed to heave the pig man up by his shoulders. The tusk's movement within the girl's skull made a sickening sound, scraping and squishing. Claire closed her eyes and averted her head, fighting tears, but she didn't let go. Magda just looked sad. The moment the tip of the tusk exited the blonde's head, there was a plop and Libby felt something spurt on her belly. It was wet, soft and warm. She decided not to look down.
Once they had brought the pig man to an upright position, the rest was easy. One push was all it took. Libby happened to glance down and was reminded that his humongous penis was still hard, even in death. Maybe she instinctively took this as a warning, because she took a sidestep the second it left the freckled girl's ruined pelvis. It was exactly at the right moment.
Libby had heard of poshumous orgasms, but the white fountain that erupted from the alien member once it was freed was something else. It missed Libby by an inch. Claire wasn't so lucky. The spray covered almost her entire left leg in warm, white goo. She squealed like a little girl, and started to rub the contamination off her skin with both hands. "Oh god", she stammered, "Ohgodohgodohgod", starting to cry when she realized that while she had gotten most of it off her leg, the cum was now spanning gooey threads every time she spread her fingers.
Libby removed a pink worm from next to her belly button that could only be a part of the dead girl's brain. A mixture body liquids restarted erupting from the corpse's freshly liberated orifice. She hadn't deemed it possible, but the smell got even worse. The urge to vomit rose within Libby, along with a feeling of anxiety that was almost overwhelming.
"We have to get out of here!", Claire cried, sounding hysterical now. "We have to leave this place!"
Libby's mind raced: 'We should have just let her rot! What mess this got us in, literally. Fuck, what if they hear Claire scream, what if she completely loses her marbles now, what if...

NO.'

That very moment, Elizabeth Johnson made a decision. She would not die here. She would live. And so would Claire and Magda. They needed leadership, needed morale, and Libby was the one they expected it from. So she led. Grabbing them, the policewoman started to move.