Squirrel covered up yawns, stifled coughs and lifted her nose up when a tricky sneeze came her way. Silence was essential for most of the stuff she did for Spit Rod's clan, and this one task was no different; observe and report. She was the clan's spy essentially, just like the ones she'd heard about in Spit's comic book.

The light that'd got everyone's attention was coming from the east; a classic camp fire spark that got the one universal idea in their heads…..loot. Wherever a waste whore was sleeping they no doubt had stuff on them, and who cared really what it was? As long as it was something they could use...something the clan could use.

Being the most observant of the group, which she was very proud of, she guessed they weren't carrying much on them. The way the fire blazed, without a care to who saw it, told her they didn't know much about being in such territory….which also meant they probably didn't have much on them. Granted, they could at least have some caps and food, which the clan wouldn't think twice over shooting them for - every little bit helps.

Up top, on a reasonably distanced overpass, she hunkered down. Her old scoped rifle perched up against one of the arches of the towering road, making a beeline for the fire. The chamber didn't work on the rifle, but the scope was functioning – besides, she was just suppose to scout, not kill…..though if she took a couple out with the line of frags around her hips she didn't expect much of a reprimand anyways…

She gave the distance a once over with her bare eyesight before laying down on her stomach, leaning on her elbows as she clicked one eye shut to get a better look. It was dark, maybe too dark, but she could see a woman at the fire easily even though she was probably a quarter mile away. She blocked out most of the light but gave a clear view of herself by the outline of the fire.

Squirrel squeezed her eyes shut tighter, gaining a bit of a better look before another tall figure passed by in front of her sight. Her lips parted, lower set of teeth showing as she squinted her face, still trying to see a hair better through the scope.

"..fuckin' shakes…" It was cold and she had to lean into the edge to steady herself. Again she stared through the blotchy scope, seeing the large imposing figure again. The guy, she guessed going by how fuckin' massive the figure was, was stopping by the woman's side. With a little rub at the tip of her lenses she got an imposing smudge out of the way – now she could see everything, including the large dark figure as he removed a glorious looking shotgun, as well as a heavy looking pack. The more she looked the more she saw - and damn were they were packin'.

"..shit yeah, babies gone and found the jackpot."

She'd been about to remove her eye from the scope, but something strange happened. The light caught against the tall mother fucker, casting an orange blaze against some incredibly rough features. He wasn't old….or scarred...

…he was a zombie!

A fuckin' shuffler in their territory? She scoffed, keeping it hushed as her lips formed a sneer of disgust. How did this walking fly farm find it's way past the west border? No one in that particular clan would have let them through….they sure as shit wouldn't have let 'it' through. Not without popping a cap in 'it's' head for good measure.

If the chamber hadn't been jammed and the rifle was still working she would have quickly put the thing out of it's misery. Despite, her hostility towards the zombie she thought she at least had more compassion than the rest of her pals. She'd just kill 'it', no sense in torturing something that was already being tortured, and looking like that must have certainly been torture.

Still though, she hadn't gotten many chances to look at these things and since she was in the right position, she gave herself a few moments to watch it as it started to talk. It made her wince behind the scope, seeing its twisted dry mouth moving slow and sure. She heard no sound but guessed 'it' sounded like Spit would if he'd lived to be a hundred and still smoked two packs a day – and she'd be right.

Again, just as she was ready to head back to bunker something else happened that made her hold position. 'It' sat down by the woman – close too. Who the fuck would let one of those things that close to them? Someone would have to have hog tied and drugged Squirrel if they wanted to get her even ten feet close to such a creature, and zombie that size could indicate that the broad wasn't there on her own free will..no one would be…would they?

She adjusted her shoulder against the hilt, popping a joint and letting out a inaudible sigh. She was getting stiff, but she wasn't getting much out of entertainment lately and this was as interesting as it had gotten in the past week; it was different.

They looked like they were talking, but a familiar feeling told her something else was going on. For a moment she almost wished she'd had the balls to camp behind one of the many rocks that were much closer – then she may have been able to hear what the fuck it was they were saying.

She nearly gasped when the woman's hand rested on 'it's' shoulder – looking as if it was caressing the metal shoulder brace.

"..what the fuuck?"

She looked on, almost dumbfounded – a wave of bigotry anger crept up in her almost immediately after and she growled. Who the fuck touched one of those things? Was she high? Maybe that's what was stretching out of that heavy pack…piles upon piles of jet and psycho, which would be the only way Squirrel would find herself touching one of those puss bags.

The next five seconds made a swirling sensation leap out of her belly and up to her throat; the sight of the woman, a fucking woman, crawling into the zombies lap like it was made of suede and everything nice...it was damn right traumatizing.

Expressions were hard to make out at this distance but Squirrel would have been lying to herself if she said there wasn't a smile on the chick's face. It was sick to want to keep watching, but she did it anyways. No one would know, right? She would know though, and that was enough.

So with a guilty hate for herself she removed herself from the scope. A little red circle haloed around her eye as she hefted herself up and made her ways down the hard slope of the over pass. The absence of the fire light in her eye wasn't the only thing that she felt nostalgic about. Her mind was starting to kick at her legs as she forcefully put one foot in front of the other - walking farther down the too dark cement roadway.

She stepped cautiously, remaining silent – though her thoughts were nothing less. What were they doing now….or what in the hell was the whore doing – getting ready to do? She was missing something, Squirrel knew she was walking away from something, whether it was disgusting or…..

She paused, feeling that itch to keep watching. Who cared, she didn't, not any longer. She'd done enough and seen enough that….so what if she saw something sick tonight? What was the worst that could happen, not like she was gonna fuck 'it'…..right?

Quickly she found a ledge again, a little cracked outcrop of destroyed cement and shakily got down on her knees, perching her scope up in the yellow blazes general direction. Her line of sight wavered a bit, eagerly trying to find the fire and then…bam.

"..jumpin' shit…..balls…."

Her stomach lurched again and she instinctually removed the scope from her face. Her heart had started thumping hard in just those few seconds and her breath came out hard.

"…no..no no no no" She couldn't have seen right. She must have over did it today with the chems because she could have sworn….could have sworn she'd just seen..that! – and there was no way she really could have seen..that..

Squirrel gulped, looking around her bare battered knees before going back for more. No way she could leave now…even if this, whatever this was, was the most nausea inducing thing she could think of...she had to see it again. Who would ever see something like this again anyways..and boy would this been a story to tell the guys when they decided to mess with her. This would turn their dicks soft in a second flat.

With a little renewed resistance she placed the hilt back against her shoulder, peering into the scope.

There it was again, but worse..

The woman was naked now…well, almost. It would have been a bit less horrific if the shuffler had been on top of her, if 'it' had been the one doing all that shit to her. The action may have helped her think that it was a rape, rather than an act of free will, and by now she was used to seeing rape - but no, it was all her. She was on top of this thing….this thing that was definitely a man.

She held back the gag, seeing what was unmistakable a cock…and a monster of one at that. Suddenly, as the sight of that dick, she wasn't so nauseous anymore, which she knew was completely backwards.

The scene was still something out of a nightmare. The orange glow of the fire flickered and licked against the woman's skin, and for a second Squirrel almost wished she was the one that was running their hands up her thighs – but she wasn't, the hands were attached to the zombie. Those mutilated, twisted….horrible hands were massaging and kneading the woman's legs and hips. The worst part of this was that, judging by the way this things hands touched the woman, this wasn't the first time he'd done this.

Lacking a better vocabulary, all Squirrel could think to describe the woman was 'sick bitch'. She was sick, especially what with the way she'd started acting. Those wide hips gyrating back and forth with the zombie cock lying against her stomach was in its own way mind splitting. The twisted jutting cock reach an inch below the woman's belly button and for a second a feeling of envy washed over Squirrel. It was shocking more not because that she was feeling this way over a cock attached to a shuffler but that she knew Spit had a similarly large cock...and that he was more than happy to share it with her and the other two chick's in the group.

So why did she continue to feel jealous the more the woman began to stimulate the disgusting flesh. She gawked, mouth hanging open and the scope started to twitch out of sight when the woman's hips rose. The light of the fire poked through the gap between her thighs and highlighted the protruding zombie cock with great detail. Even from this distance she could see all the ridges of dimpled flesh and bumps that...even with her discrimination towards such a sight, she could appreciate. Even the sight of the thing may have been worth it to have that monster cock ripping inside - it looked like it could get addictive very fast.

Maybe the zombie raped her...and the woman found out she liked it? Still, even watching the woman lower herself on the meat stick, watching it go all the way in and even seeing it's the girth expand her abdomen an inch, she still couldn't imagine someone actually wanting to do this very thing - at least not being the one to instigate it. Squirrel could see...maybe, maybe going along with it after getting the thing inside, realizing it was at least semi-worth the trouble...but...fuck!

She was speechless, which was a feat in itself...for her.

The woman rode this zombie john for all he was worth - and, for a second, she swore she could hear the woman screaming. The zombie was taking it in stride too, just holding on for the ride, letting the woman ruin herself on him for a good five minutes before helping her in a very 'take charge sort of way', considering he was being ridden.

At this point Squirrel accepted the fact that her body was buzzing, obviously aroused at the sight of such a sexually disgusting act. Hell...she'd witnessed people fucking the dead, and yet the thought of something like this earlier would have been even more disgusting. Bigotry towards..ghouls...was so ingrained in her that she hadn't even realized it until now.

Still, she watched, trying to steady the scope as her arms started to shake. She could accept the fact that she was turned on...she could, but she was not going to do anything about it. She may as well pull the pin out of the frag grenade on her hip afterwards..

Instead of being disgusted by this, she could only think of how unsafe it was for them to do this...or stupid. Hell, she was sure now that the screams she'd thought were her imagination were actually real. The loud, sex driven noise wasn't all in her head. Grunts, yelps and wet sounds echoed as far as they did and she could hear it all. The faster and more frantic they got the louder the noises escalated - and boy were they going at it now. How the woman wasn't busting at the seams she didn't know. The ghoul was pulling into her each time she slammed down, making a slight bulge on her belly each time which shaded with the fire light. It looked physically impossible, yet there it was...

Soon though, it was over and the woman stiffened over the ghoul, arching with a breast in her hand. Squirrel watched, even admired for a second what had just happened. A throbbing heat lingered still between her thighs, but she wasn't absent of guilt over it...she wanted to toss a frag their way just out of spite.

Here she was, in the dark, watching as the woman pulled herself off the rancid cock...and it just kept coming out of her. She had to look away as fluids started to drip out of her...it was too much. Instead she watched as a few small spiders crawled in the dark out of a few cracks. Now, with the absence of such a sight as a woman fucking a ghoul she realized how fast her heart was beating...how much watching had truly affected her.

"..." She opened she mouth to say something to calm her down when a far away cry made her clamp her lips together. Quickly she looked through the scope again.

They'd started up again...her mouth hung open, spit pooling into her lower lip as she gazed on. They were doing it again...and...

She lowered her rifle, arching up and stared at the fire light, now to far away to see much more then little blurs moving erratically in the fire light. She couldn't watch another round of that...not one more second.

Quickly, without giving herself time to reconsider she turned and ran - not bothering to be quiet any more. If they heard her, then they heard her and she didn't give a shit any more for the repercussions. She needed to leave, she had too. The sight of that ghoul pumping into the little woman below him, with her leg in on big hand just kept pounding before her eyes. The way his hips pivoted forward and backwards with horrible speed just made her head spin.

She'd watched it...and she couldn't unwatched it...but she could damn well tell the clan that there wasn't a single fucking thing any of them wanted from that little speck of fire light...

...nothing at all.