The Henshaw Boys (© Ben R. Busse)
Page 3 Whatever they
needed they took—vehicles, weapons, food and alcohol. It was all there for the
taking. Christmas in May, everyone! Three pieces of ID? Fuck you! What’s my
credit score? Fuck you! When everyone
was fleeing the cities, the Henshaw boys were looting it empty. As for the
dead, they were a piece of cake. Only an idiot got bit by one. As long as you
could run, shoot or climb, you would never get hurt. Within a month,
they were all living high off the hog. They secured the top floor suite of a
downtown office building with an underground garage. They blocked all the
stairwell access doors so none of those things could get to the top floor. They
loaded the suite with everything they could find. The army left
all sorts of abandoned equipment on the city streets—rifles and explosives all
for the taking. Now, if anyone tried to take their shit, they would be ready
for them. But no one ever came for them. For the first
year it was fun. Driving the most expensive cars they could find and driving
them as fast as they could. My driver’s license officer? Fuck you, it was
suspended five years ago. Every now and
then, they saw people driving through the city. They mostly just watched them. These
survivors didn’t seem like they were looking to make new friends. Occasionally,
they would see large caravans of bikers travelling through town. They made sure
they kept out of sight of them. As dumb as the Henshaw boys were, they knew the
bikers weren’t on a recruitment drive. Well, maybe they would be if they were
the Henshaw girls. They did make
contact with a few survivors though. Most were paranoid and creepy. One guy
they met was named Steiner. They ran into him siphoning gas from a tractor. He
drove an old bullet-scarred armored car. Steiner always
wanted to trade for military hardware. For three-thousand rounds of fifty-cal
armor piercers, he traded them a brand new Harley-Davidson motorcycle. For forty
pounds of C4 explosives, he traded them a solar generator. But there was never
any friendly chit chat with him. He just traded and left. He never talked about
himself or what he saw outside of the city. Whenever they needed to get in
contact with him, they would use a CB radio. They were always careful what they
said, because they never knew who was listening. After a couple
of years, things started getting dull for the Henshaw boys. The lack of female
companionship was the worst. No amount of porno could ever take the place of
the real thing. But where could they get the real thing? There were no more
strip clubs, whore houses or chunky girls who use to live down the street that
never said no. The few female survivors they occasionally saw weren’t worth a
second look or they were so well guarded by their men that approach was
impossible without someone getting shot. Then one day
they saw them—two of the hottest women they had seen in a long time, driving a
pickup truck. They followed them to a looted out food bank in the commercial district. Phil and Craig
drove into the parking lot to ask them if they needed any help. Big mistake. The
two women immediately opened fire on them. Instead of waiting around to get
shot, they drove out of there as fast as they could. The two cousins realized
that dinner and a blowjob was out of the question. For the next
year and a half they watched different groups of women coming in and out of
town, getting supplies. All of them were fit and good looking. They were always
heavily armed and never with any men. The boys
decided they must belong to a community of hot lesbos. But the Henshaw boys couldn’t
stop thinking about them. It took about a month of careful surveillance, but
they were finally able to follow them, without being seen, to their compound. There were fifteen
of them living in a gated residential community about twenty-five miles outside
of town. Few zombies were anywhere near their compound. The Henshaw boys
watched them with their binoculars all day long. There wasn’t a man in sight, just
a bunch of hot women with assault rifles. They also noticed that there were
sentry posts on all sides of the community. [ Continue to page 4 ] |