Long Day's Night

By: L. Alan Russo

The projection from the headlights lit the corner as the small aged car turned into a parking lot. The vehicle found same to rest in front of the small building, inside Peter and Trish check their weapons, while Ian sat behind the wheel.

"Hope we can trust you," Peter rumbled while he loaded shells into his firearm.

Trish looked up with a flirty grin in Ian's direction, and said, "Oh, he's trustworthy, babe."

Peter frowned.

"Hey man, I—" Ian tried to say, but was interrupted.

"Look, man, I don't wanna hear what you did to prove your loyalty. All I want you is to keep the motor running. Cool?" Peter said, and then tucked his weapon away from sight.

Ian looked up in the rear view mirror, Trish gave him a wink and in a deadpan tone, he replied, "Cool."

"All right, let's do this," Peter said and reached to open the car door.

With authority Peter and Trish got out of the car. They power walked straight for the bank entrance, before they entered Trish grabbed Peter by the collar and pulled him in for a passionate kiss.

"For good luck," she said, followed with that same flirty wink from earlier.

The two emerged from the other side of the entrance doors, Peter pulled out his gun and fired off a few rounds at no one person in particular, but more to get the attention of everyone in the bank. Once the people in attendance cowered in fear, Trish stepped up and shouted, "We're here to make a withdrawal, let's make this fast and we'll be on our way and no one will get hurt."

Both, Peter and Trish opened a black duffle bag and walked cautiously to the tellers on each side of the counter. They placed their black bag on the counter and the person behind it would place all the money they had inside the pack, afterward they moved inward to the next man or woman to do the same thing.

After a few moments, their bags were full of money and they met in the middle of the teller's counter, by this time, no words needed to be said. Peter placed his bag on the polished wooden surface and the woman placed the money inside, but was unable to put all of it because it was so full. The female teller shook in fear from not being able to fit everything inside, Peter grinned and took the money from her hand and said in a soft voice, "Here, this is for you, for all you're hard work."

He then placed the wad of hundred dollar bills in the teller's cleavage, she looked down and back up with a smile. "Thank, thank you."

"You're welcome," Peter said with a hungry smile. "See, you're in no danger."

"Stop chasing panties and let's move!" Trish said a she ran for the door.

Peter looked back at the woman teller, and said, "Women, so jealous."

He slowly backed away from the teller, and with a flirtatious wink of his own, turned around, but unbeknownst to him a security guard was right be hind him with a pistol readied. On pure instinct, Peter fired first and hit the guard in the chest.

But, Peter knew he was in trouble, when the security guard stepped back from the blast with a spray of shards of cotton, no blood. Before the man hit the floor, he fired three rounds into Peter, one in the chest, right above his heart, one in his stomach and the final one in his liver (Peter knew it was the liver by the darker colored blood).

"Ah, shit," Peter said before he begin to collapse, but caught himself against the counter.

Trish saw what happened and charged toward Peter with her weapon raised firing two shots both struck the security guard in each knee cap. The man hit the floor while he screamed in pain, which allowed Trish to run up to Peter with no further altercation.

Once Trish reached Peter, he said to her angrily, "Bastard unloads on me and all you do is pop his knees out?"

"He was doing his job, it wasn't personal," Trish said to Peter. Then placed his arm around her neck and drug him back to the awaiting car out front.


Ian looked up from his smart phone and saw Trish as she drug Peter toward the vehicle, he was saturated in blood, From multiple gunshots, Ian thought to himself.

With a click of the door latch, Ian looked up into the rear view and watched as two black duffle bags flew passed his sight, and then watched with amusement as Peter was shoved inside landing on top of the bags. Trish ran around the front of the car and got inside on the passenger's side.

"GO! GO! GO!" Trish screamed.

The tires squealed before it grabbed traction on the asphalt, and sped of before the authorities arrived at the scene.

"We did it! We did it!" Ian said with his words laced with excitement.

"What are you so happy about, I'm shot! I might die!" Peter exclaimed.

"No, You're not gonna, yet. Not on my watch." Trish told Peter.

Both Ian and Trish chuckled and quickly glanced at each other.

"What's so freaking funny?!" Peter demanded.

"I'll explain, once we get to the flat," Trish replied softly and gave Ian another wink.

"Peter, get down! Hurry!"

Peter complied and lowered himself down out of sight. In silence the two up front watch as a herd of squad cars, all with sirens blaring, as they passed by. After the last police vehicle was out of view, Ian and Trish looked at each other once more with accomplished smiles.

"We're in the clear." Ian said.

"Only one more thing," Trish said and pointed blindly behind her at Peter. "How are we going to get him inside the flat, without anyone noticing?"

"We'll have to chance it, he needs surgery right away. If we don't stop the bleeding he's gonna bleed out." Ian retorted.

"You think, you can stop my bleeding, Ian?" Peter asked in a now low and weak voice.

"I know that I can, Pete," Ian comforted.

"Bless you, son. Bless you." He said, with a continued loss of blood, Peter blacked out.


Peter opened his eyes to a loud thump of bass, the lights had a red hue to them and it was reminiscence of a Techno Whorehouse he had visited overseas. It wasn't the same place that the three of them met up at earlier, but at that point it really did not matter. Only one thing did, with all his might and strength he looked down at his chest and abdomen, completely patched up, with a sigh of relief he dropped his head back into a pillow.

"I'm gonna live," he said softly to himself. "I'll be damned, I'm gonna live."

Alone in his mind, he let out a chuckle of relief.

"You're a wake."

Peter knew it was Trish's voice, but he did not see her.


Still from his sight, She said, "Good. You'd been out for almost an entire day."

"What? What is this place?"

"Oh, we decided to take you to Ian's flat. This was less populated and you needed those bullets removed right away." Trish explained.

"I'm so very grateful, I thought I was a dead man for sure. I thought one of those bullets hit my liver."

Finally, a shadow of Trish was projected on the wall.

"It did, I sat with you while Ian did the surgery." Trish said with a sultry voice. Peter watched on the wall as it appeared that she was moving toward him. "He had to remove a bit of you liver where the slug was stuck, but overall, it won't hinder the general function of your liver."

"How do you know so much about it?"

"I know a little about everything," Trish said with a playful chuckle. "You have to in our line of business, right?"

"True." Peter said with a chuckle of his own. "So why are you hiding from me?"

"Silly boy, I'm not hiding. I'm building anticipation." Trish said, and finally stepped out in front of Peter. His mouth gaped open at the sight of her, before him she stood completely nude. Her pasty skin appeared to have a glow in the room's lighting, her long brunette hair draped over her petite body and her eyes filled with lustful hunger.

Trish got on the bed and moved toward Peter as if she was a tiger about to pounce on her prey. She crawled over him, his body tensed as her cold skin touched his hot flesh for the first time. Trish slowly moved upward and all of her parts rubbed over his part; his heart began to beat faster, although oddly enough, his wounds hurt with each beat.

"Oooh," Peter uttered in discomfort with his face contorted in pain.

Trish ran her slender finger from his lips down to where all the blood flowed to, and talked in an almost babyish tone. "Are you hurting, huh? Is my little man, hurting?"

"Yes, I was all right at first, but now it's pretty intense," Peter replied, still with a grimace on his face, despite other more pleasurable simulation that went on.

Trish leaned over Peter, which caused him more pain, toward a door that was half opened and yelled in its direction, "Ian can you bring me 80 milligrams of Morphine, Pete is in real pain."

Trish shifted back over Peter, and placed a sloppy kiss on his dry lips. At first, he was startled by how cold her lips were. It was almost as if he rubbed his lips across a ice cube, it was as if she read his mind when she said, "Your body is so hot from fever, little me must feel ice cold."

Trish looked up with a smile and then back down at Peter, "Medicine time."

Peter was shocked as he watched Ian walk into the room, he was also nude. He carefully held a small syringe of fluid in front of him. He sat down next to him and Trish handing the medicine over to her.

A threesome? Ah, what the hell, I've done worse, Peter thought to himself. Trish took her finger and from his jaw line moved down until she found his carotid artery.

"This is going to sting a little," Trish said as she slid the needle into his neck. "Doing it this way, will get into your blood stream faster. Okay?"

"Okay," he mumbled, within moments Peter felt the liquid warmth of the morphine as it streamed through his veins. The pain faded, and his body relaxed, he had never had intercourse while he was under the influence of anything—this caused a bit of extra excitement. "I—I, think that I'm ready."

"Oh?"Trish asked.

"Yeah, I'm feeling good, so I'm ready to do this." Peter answered, the intoxication was evident in his words.

"What exact is this?" Ian asked sheepishly.

Peter squinted at Ian for a brief moment and then answered, "The three way. But, look man, I'm not up to being on top. You're gonna have to go it with, you know what I mean?"

Both Ian and Trish laughed at Peter's idea of having a ménage à trois. "Love, did you hear that? Peter thought that we were going to have sex with him?" Ian said as Trish slid off of Peter like a snake.

Peter's eyes opened wide at what Ian had said, not that fact that they were not going to have a threesome, but rather the fact that he called Trish, love. "What the hell is going on here?!"

Peter sat up and pushed Ian and Trish out of his way on the floor. "Some kind of bull shit, is going on here and I'm gonna get to the bottom of it! You're both in this together and you're gonna try and off me and get my half of the cash?!"

Ian slowly arose from the floor, he appeared angry and injured, there was a long laceration down his cheek (deep enough he saw the muscle), but there was no blood coming from the wound. "We are in this together, and we are going to kill you, that much you have right. But, we have no need for your share of the money we stole."

"What the fuck is going on here?!" Peter cried out when he noticed Ian's wound had no blood coming from it.

Trish got up and rushed to Ian's side, she examined the cut on his face and with her words traced with panic said, "Oh no, babe! Your face!"

Ian ran his hand over the wound, and realized how server it was. "Shit! Do you think it will heal?"

Trish looked over at Peter with an inspecting eye for a moment before she answered his question, "If we get his blood into you as soon as possible the leukocytes should be fresh enough to heal your wounds—in the every least at least start the healing process."

"You…" Peter said as he backed himself to a wall. "You sickos, are cannibals?"

Trish smiled at him, with the devil in her eyes. "Not quite, Pete. We don't care to eat human, rather we have to."

"I… I don't understand."

"We're what you'd call a zombie." Ian explained. "We're gonna rip you apart and drink as much of your blood and eat as much of your blood-filled organs as we can, so we can remain above ground."

"That's crazy talk, man!" Peter stammered, and realized it was the drugs that he was given.

"Why do you think that I let the gunshot wound open?" Trish asked, and moved forward cautiously once she noticed Peter was fading.

"Why did you drug me?"

"I loaded you up with morphine, after all this is nothing personal, I don't want you to be in pain." She explained.

"And what we're about to do to you is awfully painful," Ian said as he stepped up next to Trish. "With the bullet holes still open, we can get our fingers in there and pull you apart."

With all of his might, and everything let inside of him Peter charged forward and tried to swing on the two zombies, but to his dismay, he collapsed to the floor. He lied there for a moment, darkness closed closer around him, and Peter knew the end was near. Everything around him was fuzzy, but before he died he had one question left unanswered.

Peter pushed himself onto his back, and looked up at the two undead predators and asked, "Why are you naked?"

Trish leaned down to face Peter eye to eye and said, "It gets really bloody when you tear a body into shreds.

As darkness engulfed Peter, his vision left him, but he heard everything. The sound of ravenous beasts eating as much as they could, as fast as they could. He never felt any pain, only pressure as they ripped him open. Peter knew it only when he felt the warm fluid ran over and down his limbs.

Much like before after being shot at the bank, Peter went blank, but this time he did not wake up.



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