"This is it, Peyton," she called back quietly. "This radio works. We can listen in and contact them. All we need now are some of the guns and we can head back."
"Not just yet," he told her. "We got some business to tend."
She turned, too late, seeing only the butt of an assault rifle as Peyton, his eyes dark and menacing, drove it into her face. The world spun, and Bunny felt like she was falling.
Bunny came to with a pounding head, the taste of blood in her mouth, and the feel of a sharp knife to her throat. Opening her eyes, she looked into Peyton's, seeing the madness that had taken root there and grown. She felt his weight on her as he shifted, watching her.
"Peyton..." she groaned.
"Shh, now," he whispered. "Don't be thinking on screaming, or begging. I'll slit your throat for one, an’ the other won't help you none."
She felt him press the knife closer, the sharp blade caressing her throat. "You don't want to do this, not here. It's too risky."
"I disagree," he told her with a smile. "This is just about the perfect place."
She felt his free hand sliding up her shirt, across her stomach, and to her breast, squeezing. She gasped and started to push him away, but he twisted the knife, stilling her quickly.
"Don't fight it now, darlin'. You know you want this," he cooed as he massaged her breast roughly.
"Like hell I do," she snarled.
He giggled, far more broken that she’d realized. "Deep down, yeah, you do. I can see it in your eyes. All girls like you do."
She steadied her breathing. "Girls like me?"
"I heard you talkin' with the dead man," he said. "I know ‘bout you bein' a slut, takin' off all your clothes for money. Why, girls like you, this is all they want. It's all they're about."
"Listen," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. "Let's say you're right. Is this really where you want to do this? I mean, there's some nice beds back at the clinic."
He hesitated a moment. "No," he said finally. "No, I know how this works. You like to tease guys like old Peyton here. Think it's fun to lead us on, get us all hot an’ bothered, then drop us for some other fellow. No, we’re not gonna play that game today."
Bunny grimaced as the cold steel of the knife dug into her skin. "Stop and think about what you're doing. You know this isn’t a good idea."
"Shut it, whore," he snapped. "World's gone now, dead are up and feeding on us left alive. Man's gonna make it in this world, he needs a woman. That doctor lady, she ain't worth a shit. You, though, yeah, you are just what I need."
"You are so wrong," she told him.
"Enough talkin'," Peyton told her. "Reach on down there and get them pants of yours off."
Bunny darted her eyes back and forth, looking for something, anything, she could use to get free. Peyton had pinned her down and held all the cards. Snarling, Bunny did as he said, promising herself to kill him as soon as he finished.
He smiled at her, licking his lips. "See there now, I knew you was just a slutty little thing. Real woman, with some pride, would’ve let me cut her throat afore she let me have my way. Now go on an’ get my pants down, darlin', and let's have ourselves some fun."
Bunny met his eyes with a hard glare, a slow smile crawling across her face. Her fingers worked the buttons of his pants, shoving them down, baring him to her hands. She felt the knife ease off as she gripped him, felt it drift down from her throat as he moaned to her touch.
She smiled when he screamed as she clenched her fist around his balls. The knife fell away, clattering across the APC as Peyton reached down to hold his injured manhood. Bunny squirmed back from him, jerking her pants up as fast as she could.
"Bitch!" Peyton bellowed. "Whore! Cocksucking slut!"
"Thought you liked your girls that way," she said as she drove the heel of her boot into his face.
Peyton staggered back, collapsing on the wall. Bunny pulled herself up, grabbing the radio she'd come for, and scrambled to get past him, knowing his screaming would draw the dead down on them quickly. Her hand on the door frame of the rear hatch, she felt Peyton seize her and throw her back.
Bunny slammed face-first into the floor, sliding down it into a heap on the wall. Peyton seized her, more overcome with rage than pain, and rolled her over, driving his fist into her face.
Staggered, she drove her elbow into his nose, sending him backwards. Shaking her head to clear it, she levered herself up as he came at her again, fists swinging. She deflected one, but took the other in the side, making her want to scream. He was fast, she gave him that, and knew where to hit to make it hurt.
She drove a fist across his chin, staggering him enough to give her a chance to drive her knee into his solar plexus, knocking the breath out of him for a moment. It wasn't enough though, she saw quickly, as he kicked her knee, sending her down.
Scrambling to get on top of her, Peyton slugged her in the side of the head, but Bunny had pulled her knees up and used her legs to hurl him backwards, slamming him against the roof of the vehicle. Not giving him a chance to recover, she kicked him in the face again, breaking his nose.
Peyton slumped to his knees. Bunny
