Chapter 4: Going out in style

The girls talked the day away, once again losing themselves and their worries in each other. For dinner that night, they had kidneys cooked in a rich sauce they found in the penthouse kitchen cupboards. Specifically, Janet’s kidneys, which she figured she wouldn’t be needing any longer and thus could be put to a better, more appetizing use. After a solid night’s sleep – they had rather exhausted each other, after all – the two girls woke up some time in the morning.

A few days ago, hearing distant gunfire and screaming after waking up would have been the stuff of panic-attack inducing nightmares. Now it was like hearing birds chirping away in the trees. Clara rose first, leaving Janet still snoring on the bed and brushing the sand out of her eyes. She stank of sex and vaguely of urine; showering might be a good idea, regardless of whether or not social standards had fallen somewhat in the last 24 hours. She walked over to the giant window overlooking the city, wondering where to go. She could see several fires dotting the cityscape, sending up black plumes of smoke. She looked down into the street outside the apartment building. Well over a dozen zombies shuffled between the crashed and abandoned cars that lined the streets. One was sitting down, feasting on a half-eaten corpse. She hoped the building had a back exit. Still, even if they could get out of the building unharmed, what would they do? Should they stay in the city or try to travel to a small village? Or should they instead build a tree hut in the middle of the forest and just live in the woods, avoiding the whole zombie apocalypse entirely? Each one had its pros and cons; they would be able to find more resources in the city, but they’d be safer in the forest…

She went to scratch the back of her head, stopping immediately when she felt her fingernails sink into the squishy folds of her brain. Right. So maybe not the forest. She didn’t want to spend the whole day leaning leaves and bugs out of her head. And speaking of cleaning, it was high time she took that shower. Maybe Janet would have a good idea when she woke up.

She padded off to the bathroom and turned the water on full blast. As soon as she stepped under the shower, her vision exploded in burst of color as the water pounded down on her exposed brain. This whole ‘openminded’ thing was going to take some getting used to…

Barely able to see anything, she groped around for the knob and turned it back down until the colourful spots reduced in intensity, as if she had stared at the sun for too long. She grabbed a bottle of fancy-looking shower gel and a washcloth and started soaping up her body. Once she’d worked up a good lather, she dropped the washcloth and began rubbing it off with her bare hands. Clara closed her eyes, enjoying the feeling of her hands running over her bare skin.

When she reached her breasts, she couldn’t help but massage them, temporarily abandoning her cleaning work. She squeezed them tightly, rubbing her index fingers roughly over her nipples. She could get used to this. Maybe they could just stay in this apartment, spending their time fucking each other and occasionally going out to get supplies. There were worse ways to spend the rest of her life than having constant orgas–

Wait. Something felt strange. Something was wrapped around her right index finger. She tried to wiggle it around, but it seemed to be locked in place. She opened her eyes and looked down. Somehow she had managed to wedge the entire first digit of her index finger into her milk duct. She knew where this was going, and while playing with Janet’s stretchy prolapse was fun and all, Clara had no intention of ruining her boobs by turning her nipples into gaping holes. Not quite yet, at least.

With a loud plop, she quickly pulled her finger back out. Thankfully the hole closed back up relatively quickly, leaving her nipple looking mostly normal. Not wanting to run the risk of stretching herself out any further, she quickly rinsed off the remainder of the foam and toweled herself off.

“Morning, beautiful,” said Janet when she entered the bedroom.

“Good morning. Sleep well?”

Janet yawned, stretching out her one arm.

“Hmmm, very much so,” she smiled. “I had some very pleasant dreams.”

“Oh really? Was I in them?”

“You could say that. Up to your shoulders, in fact.”

“Hmm… is that a promise?”

“Does Scarlett Johansson have a nice rack? But that’ll have to wait, since we should be hitting the streets. Are you ready to go?”

“I think so. But don’t you need a shower first?”

The brunette gave herself a quick sniff.

“Eh. I’m sure given the circumstances any survivors we run across can excuse the smell.”

Clara went quiet for a second.

“Right. Survivors.”

She looked down at her naked body.

“We should probably wear some clothes.”

“Why bother?”

“Because if they see us walking around naked they’ll probably think we’re zombies and shoot us on sight?”

“Ughh, ''fiiiiine''.”

Janet got to her feet and walked over to the wardrobe, throwing open the doors.

“Huh,” she said.

“So…”

“It’s… something, I guess?”

Clearly, the owner of the penthouse had beaten them to the punch. Empty clotheshangers were scattered across the floor of the closet. Virtually all the clothes had been taken, save for a few items that lay amid the hangers. They bent down to collect their meagre haul. Clara picked up a thin long-sleeved white shirt. It was rather small too; the owner couldn’t have been much more than five feet high. Still, it was better than Janet’s find: the brunette was holding the flimsiest top she had ever seen. It looked like it had originally been a beige, almost skin-colored, tank top, but the bottom part had been cut off just below the breasts. The only other article of clothing that was left was a belt, which, given the complete and total lack of pants, was rather useless.

“Dibs,” said Clara, hugging the white top to her chest.

“Fine… prude.”

Clara pulled the top over her head and started worming one arm into the sleeve. The garment was at least two sizes too small for her, and the fabric felt like it was going to tear at any second, but after a lengthy struggle she finally pushed her hand through the opening at the end. The other arm wasn’t any easier. When she was nearing the elbow, she pushed a bit too forcefully, causing a small rip. As she moved forward, repeated tearing sounds could be heard as the gash grew steadily bigger. By the time her hand emerged, it ran from the elbow to halway up her upper arm.

Pulling the shirt down over her boobs was no mean feat either. Clara’s breathing was starting to become labored as she tried tugging the hem down over her boobs. She breathed out to make her chest as small as possible, allowing her to finally get it down past her nipples. Once she had passed the widest point, the rest was at least a little easier, allowing her to pull the shirt down to just above her belly button. At that point, however, the top had clearly reached its limit. No matter how hard she dared to tug, the bottom edge refused to budge so much as a fraction of an inch.

Not that there was any give left in the garment. It didn’t so much hug her curves as vacuum-seal them. Clara couldn’t just see her nipples poking through the thin fabric; she could even see the little bumps on her areola. Because of how much the top was stretched, the already sheer fabric was almost see-through.

“Well, you said you wanted to become a slut,” chuckled Janet. “You’re certainly dressed the part now.”

“Says the girl who’s only got one boob covered.”

The top that the brunette was trying – and mostly failing – to wear was apparently meant to be worn off one shoulder, since the shoulder straps were pretty far apart. This assumed, of course, that the wearer had two arms to fill it out. Since Janet was somewhat lacking in that department, the off-the-shoulder side feel down to her side, leaving one breast bare. She kept trying to pull the errant strap over her mostly missing shoulder, but it never lasted more than a few seconds before the first sign of movement sent it sliding back down.

Growing increasingly rustrated, Janet tried switching sides, hanging the garment on her damaged shoulder and letting the other side hang down. This way she actually managed to cover her entire chest… for the five or so seconds it took for the strap to slide off her stump and cause a complete wardrobe malfunction. Annoyed, the brunette jerked her arm upwards to stop the top from sliding down her body. This, however, put more strain on the fragile material than it was designed to handle, and she tore right through one of the straps and the side, leaving the garment fluttering to the floor.

Clara tried to contain her sniggering, but she was too late.

“Sure, laugh at the poor little invalid girl,” Janet said mockingly.

“What, like you wouldn’t do the same of our roles were reversed?”

“Yeah, okay, you’ve got me there.”

“Here, let me help you.”

Clara picked up the poor excuse for a bra and examined it.

“I think using this to cover your tits is a lost cause. Besides, I think coverign this mess is more of a priority,” she said, indicating Janet’s crotch. Reaching around the brunette’s back, she tied the torn piece of clothing into a loincloth, which largely failed at its intended task, given that over half of said loins merrily dangled out from underneath it.

“Hold on, let me just…”

Clara grabbed hold of Janet’s swaying sex and tried to shove it back between the other girl’s labia, but as soon as she pulled her hand back everything tumbled right back out again. Another attempt was barely any more succesful, except this time her prolapse fell out of her asshole instead. She roughly shoved them back in and thought she’d fixed the problem, until she stood back up, at which point the entire assembly drooped right back out again, with her bladder and ovaries bouncing against each other like a set of windchimes.

“Oh, just leave it, I’ll manage. And I suppose I can use my arm to cover up my nipples.”

Clara quickly eyed the empty wardrobe, which was still as devoid of clothing as before. Except…

“Hold on, you might not have to.”

She grabbed the belt and tied it snugly around Janet’s chest. It wasn’t a very wide belt, but it just about covered her friend’s areola.

The brunnete looked herself up and down in the mirror.

“Well, I suppose it’s not ''the'' trashiest thing I’ve ever worn.”

“Yeah right,” Clara scoffed.

“What? It isn’t. Ever hear of zipper bikinis?”

“No…”

“Trust me, they’re quite fun. Maybe we’ll be in luck and run into a swimwear store outside. I bet you’ll like them. Besides, if we’re having a whore-off I bet you’d win; ''I’m'' not the one walking around bottomless right now.”

“Hm, yeah…”

The wardrobe would be of no more help to her: only empty hangars remained.

“I guess you could wrap the bedsheets around yourself like a skirt? Maybe they’ve dried up by now.”

“Ew, no.”

Clara rubbed her chin, considering the couple of inches of fabric between her breasts and her belly button. It wasn’t much, but it would have to do…

Using the nail of her thumb as a knife, she started slicing through the fabric. It didn’t take much force to tear through the sheer fabric, and in less than a minute she had torn a complete loop just below the bottoms of her breasts. Grabbing the hem of the shirt once more, she started pulling the tube-shaped section down her belly, quickly running into trouble when her hips started flaring out.

“Come on you little bastard, ''move''!” grunted Clara opping up and down in an effort to convince the stubborn piece of fabric, which was stretched to within an inch of its life, to slide down her legs.

Janet said nothing; she was just quietly enjoying the effect all of this bouncing was having on Clara boobs. She would have suspected the taut fabric would have anchored everything in place a bit more, like a push-up bra, but clearly she would have been wrong.

She really didn’t mind.

After quite a bit of cursing, Clara finally got her makeshift miniskirt pulled down to the appropriate height, though in this case ‘appropriate’ was a relative term. The skirt was slightly less transparent than her top by virtue of her labia not being pressed right up against it like her nipples were, but given a pencil, a piece of paper and a few years of art school Janet would have been able to make a rather lifelike drawing of them regardless.

Still, it was slightly better than nothing, and now that the girls were – in the loosest sense of the word – dressed, they headed to the front door and pulled the book case just far enough out of the way for them to be able to squeeze past and out the front door.

“So,” said Clara, “where to?”

They decided not to take the elevator. Janet was paranoid about it not working; at best they would be stuck inside it with no one coming to help them, and at worse they would plummet to their… well, not deaths, but it would be damn inconvenient to be flattened at the bottom of an elevator shaft. “Huff… puff… I hate taking the stairs…” wheezed the brunette as they made their way downstairs. Every now and then they would find something like a splash of blood, or a discarded shoe, or an empty wheelchair.

“Technically we don’t need to breathe anymore, so there’s no reason for you to be tired,” said Clara, calmly.

“Oh, right, yeah. I forgot.”

As she walked, her swinging womb would knock and slap against her knees, which provided some amusement at least. Eventually they reached the bottom floor, and found themselves standing in broad daylight for the zombie apocalypse. Which kind of took the edge off things a little.

“Huh,” said Clara as she looked around at the street that was bathed in warm sunlight, “looks almost… cheerful. You know, if you ignore that guy over there gnawing on somebody’s leg.”

“I dunno, he seems to be having fun,” said Janet.

“I’m guessing the previous owner of that leg isn’t.”

“Fair point.”

“But as I was saying before we got sidetracked with the elevator discussion, do you have any suggestions where we should go?”

“Well, if you don’t mind, I’d like to go check out my mom’s place.”

“Sounds good to me,” said Clara. “Let’s go check out your mom!”

Janet rolled her eyes at her smirking friend.

“That’s not what I– You know what? Close enough. Come on, this way, you dork.”

As she set off, Clara started skipping beside her.

“Clara and Janet and Janet’s mom, sitting in a tree, F-U-C-K-I-N-G!”

Janet just shook her head, muttering “Not the worst girlfriend I’ve ever brought home, but it’s close.”

Clara and Janet knew these streets well. To see them like this was… interesting. Death and destruction all around, yes, but it had become clear to both of them that the zombies milling around posed no actual threat to them. At the start of the trek they cautiously skirted around the sides of any zeds, but by the third corner they had stopped bothering to even cross the road.

“Honestly, they’re kinda cute, in a really fucked up way,” said Janet, pointing her arm at a male and female zombie loitering around a lamppost.

“Look, they’re like a couple!”

Clara looked. The undead man had a torn out throat, and was wearing a string vest, underwear and slippers. The woman, who was missing most of the skin on her face, was in a torn nightie with fuzzy bunny slippers, stained red with blood.

“Must have died in their homes…” said Clara. “But now they’re still together.”

“See? Cute,” smiled Janet, as the female coughed wetly into some bushes. She waved politely as if greeting a neighbour as they strolled past. The woman snarled but in a vague sort of way.

“How much further until your mom’s house?”

“Oh, we’re almost there. Next turn, then third on the right.” Janet seemed rather casual about this, looking like she was in no great hurry to get there…

Clara noticed her friend slowly falling behind and stopped.

“What’s the matter?” she asked.

“Well, I was just thinking… what if we actually find my mom? We’re going to scare the shit out of her, looking like this.”

Clara couldn’t deny that their current state and attire would be somewhat frowned upon in polite society.

“It’s not like we have much of a choice. We’ve tried pushing your prolapse back in; it just keeps falling out. And if you ask me, ''I'' think you look ''much'' better this way. A little overdressed, even.”

“Sure, but my mom’s not a raving slut like you.”

“Not yet, at least,” said Clara in a sing-song voice.

“Still…”

“Oh, alright, let me see what I can do.”

Clara knelt down beside the brunette.

“Hm, let’s see… we could just rip off the whole thing, but that’d be a waste.”

“Yeah, let’s not.”

“Not seeing a whole lot of options otherwise, unless…”

She reached one arm into Janet’s asshole and started feeling around. When her hand wrapped around the girl’s spine, she had an idea. With her other hand she pushed Janet’s prolapse back into her, grabbing it with the hand already inside to keep it in place before pulling her second hand back out in, shoving it through her friend’s asshole alongside the first. She pulled Janet’s sex organs tight, stretching them far enough to wrap them around the spine. If she pulled hard enough, she might just barely have enough room to tie a knot, but it was going to be close.

Positioning her arms was tricky, and she had to stretch Janet’s ass quite a bit to be able to make the necessary maneuvers.

“There we go… almost there…”

The final twist of her arm proved to be too much for Janet’s abused asshole, and both girls felt it tear open a good two to three inches more, right between her butt cheeks, almost to the top of her ass crack.

“Thanks for that. I’m sure my mom won’t think that’s weird at all.”

“Oh, stop complaining. I fixed your womb, didn’t I? Just keep your butt clenched.”

Clara pulled her arms out of the now significantly larger hole.

“Wow, I think I could fit my head in here.”

“Maybe later.”

With Janet now ‘fixed’’, for lack of a better term, the two girls continued on their way. The street was relatively quiet, in that there were only a few undead corpses moaning into the air. It occurred to Clara that, if Janet’s mom was here, they would have to find some way of escorting her around unseen…

The house they were looking for looked eerily intact. Janet knocked on the door, making Clara laugh.

“What?” she said, frowning.

“That was very polite of you.”

“Hey, it’s my mom’s house, okay? Show some respect,” said the girl with the now permanently gaped asshole.

Clara nodded, her brain jiggling somewhat.

“I know, I know, but I doubt she’s in the kitchen making tea. Just… hang on, let’s go round the back.”

The two girls first peered into the living room window, but there was no sign of life. Everything actually looked untouched by the chaos the world had found itself in. They navigated around the side of the house into a small garden.

“Mom usually keeps her back door open. I never liked that, but… well, convenient.”

They entered the house, and began to search.

“Mom?” Janet called out.

“Mrs. Simmons?”

When they had covered the ground floor, they went upstairs.

“Mom, it’s me. Are you here?”

“Yeah, everything’s safe. We’re not the flesh-eating zombi– err… we’re not the… hmm… we’re not going to eat you!”

Janet shot her a look.

Clara shrugged. “What? We’re undead and we’ve eaten each other. Twice.”

“Yeah, but my mom doesn’t need to ''know'' that,” Janet hissed through her teeth.

One by one, they opened the rooms on the first floor.

“Awwww, look at you,” said Clara, picking up a photo frame from the nightstand in the bedroom of Janet’s mom. “With your pink tutu and everything. You look adorable.”

“Ugh, fucking ballet classes. I’ve begged my mom to get rid of that picture a thousand times.”

“But it’s so ''you''”, said Clara, unable to control her laughing. “I could totally see you running around in tights. I think I’m gonna call you my little sugar plum fairy from now on.”

Janet gave her a look that could peel the paint off the wall.

“Sure, go ahead. Just one quick thing before you do: would you like your brain diced or julienne?”

Clara swallowed nervously.

“Okay, maybe I won’t. Say, is this were you got to be so limber?”

“Maaaaaybe.”

“Ooh, did you have a little ''pas de deux'' with some of the other ballerinas?”

“Hm, there may have been some ''entrechat''.”

“I don’t get it.”

“Oh, just a little lesbian ballet joke.”

It became apparent that Janet’s mom was not home. Janet walked around the house a little, unsure what to do, or what to feel. She went back to her mom’s bed and sank down into it, feet on the floor.

“Well… ''that'' was a waste of time,” she said with a sigh, looking up at Clara as she joined her.

“Well, it’s not so bad. We didn’t find a dead body,” said the bald woman, parking her non-existant butt on the bed next to her friend. “That’s something.”

“Barely. It’s barely something… but, yeah, I guess.”

Janet leaned into Clara, rubbing the top of her hair against the other’s cheek.

“Can’t even think where she could have gone to.”

“Best thing is to not worry about it. You’ll go mad with stress if you do.”

“I know.”

Clara turned her face and gave Janet’s ear a nibble, enveloping it in her mouth for a moment, then kissing her cheek.

“You should just relax…”

“Mmmm… you’re right…”

Janet sat up suddenly, stretching her remaining limbs.

“But later. We’re not doing it on my mom’s bed. Let’s go check out the town.”

She quickly marched out of the room, leaving Clara pouting.”

“Hmph. Teasing bitch…”

The two girls wandered along the streets for a while, which were deserted aside from a series of pools or trails of blood, and an occasional limb, whose owner had either been eaten or dragged off somewhere. After a few blocks, they ran across another zombie. It was a girl in her late twenties, who had either been in an accident, or had zombiefied partway into being devoured. She was missing her left leg halfway up her shinbone, and her right leg had broken off a little above her knee, a splintered femur still sticking out of the wound. Her arms fared only a little better: Her left arm ended at the elbow, while her right arm was only missing a hand. The female zombie was trying to drag herself along the asphalt, but wasn’t making much progress.

Clara stopped and looked at the girl for a while. She was rather cute, dressed in a green t-shirt and denim shorts. Had they been any less lucky, they might have ended up just like her. She decided to put the poor girl out of her misery. But her helpless state might just prove useful…

“Hey, Janet?”

“Yeah?” asked the brunette, turning around.

“I was just thinking… we’ve been pretty happy-go-lucky with removing body parts so far, but we have no idea what we can or can’t survive. How about we do a bit of… experimentation on that zombie over there before we relieve her suffering?”

“Depends… does ‘experimentation’ mean kinky shit?”

“With you around, I’m sure it will.”

“Oh, like you’re so innocent,” Janet laughed.

The two girls approached the struggling zombie, wearing matching smiles.

“So, Doctor Simmons,” said Clara as she stood over the struggling zombie girl. “What is your hypothesis?”

“Well, Doctor O’Shea, after going over the data again, its the position of this expert that you’ll have to destoy their brains to kill them. Anything else and they’re fine,” said Janet. She nudge the zombie over onto her back. The poor thing protested briefly, but only in a vague sort of way, wiggling her stumps like a turtle on its back. Janet looked around, and found a glass bottle lying on the ground. She picked it up and smashed it against a wall, creating a knife.

“Jeez, watch yourself there, Janet.”

“Oh, yeah, wouldn’t want to get a cut.”

“Hey, don’t come crying to me if you end up severing a tendon…”

Janet kneeled down and began her work, slicing down the zombie-girl’s belly and pulling the wound open.

“Now, to demonstrate: I’m going to empty out this girl’s torso. Everything; heart and lungs too. I bet she’s still ‘alive’ when I’m done,” she said, as she began to spool intestines out of the girl.

“Hmmm… well, I was inclined to agree with you , but sure, I’ll bet you one favor that she’s worse off. I bet something bad will happen if she has, like, no lungs.”

“I guess we’ll find out. Come on, help me tug these out,” said Janet, cheerfully elbow deep in viscera.

Clara knelt down as well to assist her friend, but the asphalt was uncomfortable on her bare knees. She shifted her position, choosing to sit with her legs crossed instead. As soon as she spread her legs, her tight skirt tore open down the side, leaving a rip that ran several inches up from the hem of the former shirt, covering over half the skirt’s length. The top held for now, though, and it did allow her to cross her legs.

For the second time in less than a week, Clara got a close-up look at a girl’s insides. She hadn’t really studied them in detail the first time, so she made sure to pay extra attention now as she dug her arms into the slithering mass. Since Janet was using the broken bottle, she had to resort to using her bare hands. It seemed as though zombies were indeed more fragile than humans, though, because she had little trouble ripping and tearing organs out of the zombie’s belly. Every time she yanked out another balloon-shaped piece of flesh, she inspected it closely, turning it around in her hand.

Soon they had most of the intestines and other organs out of the way, exposing the girl’s sex. Both girls reached for an ovary simultaneously, glancing up to look each other in the eye when they noticed.

“It’s like that scene in Lady and the Tramp,” giggled Clara.

“Haha yeah. of course, they were ''sucking'' on the spaghetti…”

A shared understanding passed between the girls, and both of them leaned down, each sucking an ovary into their mouth. They attempted a kiss, but ended up smooshing the zombie’s uterus between their mouths instead. With a shrug, the girls started pulling their heads back, pulling the womb and the fallopian tubes taut between them. With a snap, both of the girl’s egg sacks popped off as her uterus fell back down into her abdomen. Janet swallowed visibly, licking her lips.

“Go ahead, you might as well.”

Feeling extremely naughty for doing something like this, Clara swirled the tiny organ around her mouth a couple of times before gulping it down as well.

“Hm, it’s not every day that I get to have eggs for breakfast.”

Having snacked, they continued the lesson. It was strange, but the consumption of raw flesh really did make Clara feel better. The thought would have horrified her last week. Now it was simply reality, and she accepted it rather easily. Once the abdominal cavity was fully empty, the uterus being removed as well, Janet started to cut up between the zombie’s smallish breasts, which she pushed to the side to expose the ribcage.

“Okay, these things are usually kind tough to crack open, right?” she asked Clara.

The bald girl nodded.

“That’s right. Usually. Let’s see though…”

Clara picked up a tough-looking rock and brought it down with surprising force on the exposed bone. It cracked easily after just a few blows. Flinging the rock away, Clara and Janet reached their hands down into the smashed hole where the clavicle used to be, each picking a side, and pulling as hard as they could. There was a loud snapping noise, and the ribcage was easily pulled open. Amazingly, the zombie seemed to register no obvious pain or discomfort to this, continuing to stare dumbly up.

“Huh, she took that like a trooper,” said Janet, waving her hand daringly in front of the zombie’s formerly pretty face. The zombie’s mouth opened and clothed, but made no sound…

“Now I’m no expert, but I imagine that ''these''–” said Clara, pointing at the zombie’s lungs, “shouldn’t be deflated like this. I mean, don’t you need air to make a sound?”

“A valid theory,” agreed Janet. “But of course we need to apply proper scientific rigor and make sure the subject is indeed incapable of making noise.”

“Sounds fair. And how would you propose we test this?”

“Start tearing some more parts off of her? If she protests, we’ll know our theory is incorrect.”

Putting action to her words, Janet wrapped her hand around one of the girl’s trachea and gave a sharp pull, ripping one of the girl’s lungs right out of her chest. The zombie’s dislocated jaw moved and her shortened limbs flailed about, but no sound escaped her mouth.

“Hm,” said Clara, “her voice does indeed appear to be gone. Her arms and legs still work, though. Let’s see if she responds when we remove those.”

She got to her feet and grabbed the zombie’s handless right arm, twisting it counterclockwise so that the elbow was facing almost upward. Putting one foot on the arm just above the elbow to keep it in place, she took hold of the lower arm with both hands and wrenched it upwards, against the natural bending direction. With a series of loud cracks and snapping sounds, the limb was twisted into an unnatural position. Aside from that, there was only silence.

“I would imagine that would’ve gotten a reaction out of her,” said Clara. “Still, can’t hurt to make sure.”

She started twisting and pulling on the zombie’s lower arm, slowly severing the connections keeping it attached. After a few minutes it tore free, leaving the zombie with two truncated arms of almost equal length. She was obviously trying to protest, but no sound could be heard.

“Okay, I’m ready to call it at this point,” said Janet. “Opening the chest means no more talking. Good to know; wouldn’t want to miss your screams of pleasure as I fuck your brains out. Now, what do you think would happen if we remove the heart?”

“Let’s not prevaricate, Doctor; the heart is right there, so…”

Clara reached a hand inside and, without ceremony, pulled the heart right out of the chest. It continued to beat for a few seconds before slowly stopping and sagging in the girl’s hand. Beneath them, the zombie girl continued to silently moan out, apparently unaffected.

“Huh. Not much, really,” said Janet, nudging the girl with her foot. “And the heart even stopped. I was going to use it as a toy as well. And yours.”

“You still can, if you really want.”

“Eh, it’s not as fun when it’s not beating. Right, well, moving swiftly onwards…”

Janet kneeled down next to the girl, getting a good close up look of her face. The skin on the top right of her face was peeled away, and there was a scratch down one cheek, but otherwise she was relatively intact. She handed Clara the bottle.

“This is a two-handed job, I’m afraid. I’ll hold her head, you take it off.”

“Uh, I don’t think I’m going to be able to slice through a spine with this.”

“Improvise, then!”

Shrugging and taking the bottte, Clara knelt down while Janet scuttled around, grabbing hold of the girl’s scalp with one hand while Clara began sawing though the soft pale flesh of the throat…

After a few minutes of making a big mess, Clara had to admit that ‘sawing’ wasn’t really the right word, as that would imply a single cut. While the jagged glass edges had been fine for cutting through skin, the shape wasn’t suited in the slightest for cutting through the much thicker mass of the girl’s neck. What she was doing was more ‘mashing’. Deciding that this wasn’t going to get her anywhere, she put the bottle aside and dug her fingernails into the now ragged flesh, digging out small chunks of meat until she’d removed most of the flesh between the girl’s head and shoulders, leaving only the spine. Bracing the torso with her foot, she placed one hand on each side of the girl’s face, curling her fingers around the jaw, and pulled.

The spinal cord was severed between two of the exposed vertebrae, allowing Clara to lift up the decapitated head, a bit of the spine dangling below the neck. She turned it so Janet could see as well, watching the head work its mouth and roll it’s eyes, no doubt in its death throes. Or, at least, that’s what she assumed. She started to doubt herself when five minutes later the head still hadn’t stopped moving.

“Jeez, she’s full of beans this one, huh?” said Janet eventually.

She asked Clara if she could hold the head, and when she got it she held it up by the blonde hair, the face having calmed down a little as it stared blankly ahead, still ‘alive’ but now back to the standard zombie apathy.

“You know, she really is kinda… cute…”

Janet couldn’t help but lean in and lock lips with the undead head, causing Clara to gasp and pull the head away.

“Are you crazy?!” she said, and as she pulled the scalp was pulled off almost entirely, staying in Janet’s clenched fist.

“That’s how you get your tongue bitten off!”

“Jeez, aren’t you in a fun mood today…” muttered Janet, before tossing the torn-off scalp at her friend. By complete chance it landed perfectly over her brain.

“Hah, I like the blonde look on you, actually…”

“That’s not the worst idea, actually. Maybe one day I’ll steal yours?”

“Hey, the rest of me is fair game, but no touching the hair,” said Janet, waving her locks about.

“Would you rather lose your pussy or your hair?”

“Well… um…” Janet bit her lip, before turning back to the matter at hand.

“''Okay'', last test! And if this doesn’t kill her then jeez, I am just plumb out of ideas…”

She held out her hand, and Clara reluctantly handed the scalped head back to her friend. Making sure she had a secure hold on the girl’s head, Janet smashed it against the pavement. A quick examination revealed a sizeable crack in the exposed part of the zombie’s skull. After slamming the head into the ground a couple more times, the top of its skull broke loose, clattering to the ground where it wobbled back and forth. After peeling back the skin along the edge of the hole, she banged the sides of the head against the road as well until they were sufficiently fractured. She placed the head on her lap and broke away the pieces with her hand until her entire cranial cavity was opened up, completely exposing the brain. Only a bit of bone around her eye sockets remained.

After making sure that the former redhead – and temporary blonde – was watching, Janet held her gaze as she dug her fingers into the zombie’s brain meat, scooped out a small chunk of it and dropped it into her open mouth, never breaking eye contact until she swallowed it down, at which point she closed her eyes and uttered a moan of delight. Clearly the first bite had made her hungry for more, because rather than scooping out another serving she instead lifted the open head up to her mouth, taking a big bite.

Clara watched in fascination as her friend scarfed down the girl’s brain as if it was a giant ice cream sunday. She felt both sets of her lips grow moist as she imagined the brunette devouring her own exposed brain. She didn’t want to die yet, but what a way to go…

“Wha’re yu wai’ing fer?” asked Janet with her mouth full. “Ge’ in ‘ere.”

Clara sat down next to her friend, digging her own teeth into the spongy brain matter. Janet, meanwhile, had taken a bite of the frontal lobe near the zombie’s left eye socket, severing the optic nerve and causing the eyeball to fall to the ground. She picked it up and placed it on her tongue before drawing Clara into an open-mouthed kiss. Their tongues dueled for control of the orb for a good minute or so, with each girl gaining and losing the upper hand several times. In the end, neither won: as the tug-of-war turned particularly heated, it was squished between their tongues and teeth. They hungrily slurped up the jelly before returning their attention to the brain, which they started eating in the same manner, biting off a mouthful of brain meat before locking their lips together and swirling it around their mouths.

They weren’t quite sure exactly when the unfortunate owner of the brain stopped moving entirely; the lack of any sort of moaning or groaning made it hard to judge. But it was obvious by the time they were both licking up the remaining scraps of brains from the bottom of the girl’s skull cavity that she was quite dead.

“You know, you have to hand it to her,” said Clara, in between long licks up the backside of their test subject’s face, “She was a real trooper. Didn’t complain once. I hope all zombies are like her.”

“It’d be nice to know we can have some fun with at least some of them,” agreed Janet, smiling and licking her lips. “Not saying I’m bored of you yet, just saying. Good to make friends.”

“And it’s good to win bets. I believe that’s one favor I’m owed now.”

“Hmm? Oh, right.”

Janet shrugged her one arm, leaning forward and licking a wayward piece of grey matter from Clara’s nose.

“That’s fair, I guess. Know what you’re gonna do with it yet?”

The ‘blonde’ thought for a few seconds.

“I’m happy just to have that one in the bank for now.”

They kissed again, a slow and long one this time, both of them feeling full and alive in the city of the dead…

Feeling like they owned the girl at least something of a decent sendoff, they dragged her corpse over to the nearest front yard and started digging a shallow grave, using her pelvis bone as an improvised shovel. After almost twenty minutes of digging, they had made a hole about a foot deep that, after folding the body into something of a fetus position, was just barely large enough. They piled the dug up earth back on top of it as best they could, but with nothing around to make a headstone they left the grave unmarked.

“Here lies… somebody,” said Janet as the two girls stood beside the grave, feeling obligated to have at least something of a funeral ceremony. “She gave her body to science.”

“And our stomachs,” added Clara. “She was delicious. Amen.”

Janet just looked at her.

“What? She was!”

The brunette rolled her eyes.

“Come on, you dork, let’s get back to town.”

Clara intertwined her fingers with Janet’s as they set off, trying to come up with a good use of her new favor.