The undead seek human captives for sex.
Boston is hostage to a blizzard & zombies roam the icy streets. Hayden Thomas, tabloid writer, discovers a zombie tribe that lives off constant sex with humans instead of eating their flesh.
Mattie, one of the...
Judging by the slant of the sun, it was late afternoon. A pot of cold corned beef hash sat on top of the cabinet next to the bed. It smelled oily and sour, but he grabbed the plastic spoon beside the pot and ate. She'd also left a mug with what smelled like water, but he left that alone.
The hash went down quickly. Lingering visions of the dream did not.
The images were vivid, even crisper than his recollections of the night before.
The heavy swing of the door made him jump. Mattie rushed in then stopped short, staring at him. "What?"
Hayden ran his hand over his face, trying to wipe the fear and disgust from his expression. He moved his hand away and looked at Mattie, feeling as if he was seeing her for the first time.
"You finally figured it out?" She crossed the room and sat on the table.
"How does the initiation happen?"
She started swinging her feet. "It starts with a tea, one stronger than the one you drank in the car on the way here."
Mattie went on to explain the initiation process. A person drinks the tea. The tea slows their heart and the tribe leader—Matthew for them—does the work by having sex with the initiate. Climax and death must occur simultaneously.
"He usually strangles them," she said. "It heightens the orgasm."
At death, they are a dormant and are stored until the tribe leader wishes to revive them. The revival is a simple matter of another elixir delivered into the skin.
"The spine tattoos."
Mattie nodded. "See, you are smart."
If it could be done intentionally, that revealed a new possibility. "How is it undone?"
"You see," she said, making the pendulum motion of her legs more distinct, Hayden, we both want the same thing. Information."
"You want to me figure out how to cure your tribe?"
"You're getting warmer." She stopped swinging her feet. "But everything you find out is for my ears only."
"What makes you think I'm going to find out anything? And if I do I'll tell you?"
She hopped off the table and collected the empty pot and plastic spoon. "You go find me what I want, and I'll leave you alone."
"You'll let me walk?"
She nodded and put the pot on the table.
Why were they pretending he had a choice? If he didn't do what she wanted, he'd be right back where he was, chained to her bed or worse.
"Rachelle?"
"She'll be free to go."
"Just like that?"
"Just like that. You understand what's at stake now and what can happen if you don't deliver. So you'll deliver."
"Why should I trust you?"
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