The Tribes, Chapter 10

The water purification project quickly became a Tribe-wide project. Almost everyone had a suggestion on how to improve the project or make the construction more efficient. As the first suggestions trickled in, Ryan nervously waited for signs of jealousy from Jack and Dal. He had seen such things happen back on farm projects back in the old days. To his amazement, far from exhibiting signs of jealousy, the two designers were more than happy to entertain proposed changes, additions, or improvements – even those that made the project much bigger than they originally envisioned. The original idea of three parallel fifty yard long lagoons connected by sand and gravel filter chambers evolved into two lagoons running almost half of the entire length of the parking lot dockside of the ship. A third lagoon running the width of the far end of the parking lot connected them. The new arrangement formed a giant U-shape that could also double as a protective wall for the far side of the parking lot.

Sasha managed to find enough workers who were unaffiliated with any Tribe to make the work move easier and go faster under the joint leadership of Ryan and Dal. Derisively called Strays by other Tribes because of their lack of Tribe affiliation, the workers were eager to accept the temporary security of a place to stay and regular meals. Most, however, made it clear that while they were willing to work for the Shiprats in exchange for compensation, they savored their independence and had no intention of making the Shiprat Tribe their home.

While Ryan and Dal were busy with the water purification project, Bray went to work on setting up the marketplace. He had Peter busy measuring and sawing two by fours and plywood, forming stacks and stacks of pre-cut pieces that would be used to create booths. The younger Tribe members eagerly pitched in to sand each of the pre-cut pieces of lumber. From there, Selene supervised the painting and varnishing of each piece. Bray, Amber, Heather, and Jack assembled the prepared pieces. Each booth had counters on all four sides. The walls above the counters could be removed and neatly stored under the counter on the inside of the booth – leaving the stall open to breezes from any direction. The assembly line production was so efficient that the work force had twenty marketplace stalls completed and in place in less than two weeks.

“I’ve had an idea,” Bray said to Jack as they sat down to lunch after the marketplace project had been completed. “We could take a big truck out to the mall where the Lost Kids Tribe stay. They’ve got all those fancy carts there – they’d be a pretty good addition to the marketplace out there.”

“Good idea,” Jack agreed. “We could bring them some food and games and stuff. I mean, we have all the stuff from the toy department of the SuperCenter. And, maybe we could bring some things just for Bubba.”

Bray enlisted Amber and Selene to help him select games for the kids, and some things for Bubba, while Jack organized equipment for the four of them. By the time Bray had the large moving truck ready to go the following morning, Jack had a backpack ready for each of them. Each pack contained a small first aid kit, large flashlight and extra batteries, two bottles of water, cans of food. Amber wasn’t sure Jack’s preparations were necessary, but Bray pointed out it was a good idea to have those things available just in case the truck broke down and they were forced to spend the night away from the mall. He added that they’d surely need the flashlights in the dim mall. Checking over the supply of food they were bringing with them, Bray thought the girls had been a little too generous. But, they still had a plentiful supply of food in their storerooms, so he decided not to say anything.

It was a tight fit to get all five of them in the cab, but after a little shifting, Bray was ready to start the engine. Initially, Bray’s fast driving gave Amber a little cause for alarm. He explained the speed was a necessary safety measure. They’d be able to speed ahead of any Tribes or gangs who might hear the truck coming and try to force them to stop. By the time they heard the truck and got a bearing on it, he said, they’d already be ahead of the gang. Bray’s reasoning made some sense to Amber and she was eventually able to relax.

As it turned out, the trip across town was totally uneventful and they arrived at the mall without seeing anyone at all. Jack pointed out that just because they hadn’t seen anyone, it didn’t mean that they weren’t seen themselves.

Entering the mall, Amber immediately saw the reason Jack insisted on packing the flashlights – the mall was in a perpetual twilight. There were corners that were almost pitch black. Carefully leading the way into the building, Bray pointed out the spot where Jack had turned his go-cart over on their first trip. Selene noticed Jack unconsciously run a finger along the slight scar on his forehead – a permanent reminder of his last visit. At first, the girls thought the mall had been abandoned – they couldn’t see or hear anything that hinted at inhabitants. After several loud shouts, even Bray began to wonder if the kids had moved on. Only Jack seemed confident that they weren’t alone. He thought he’d heard some scuffling sounds in the darkness around them.

Striding to the motionless escalator, Jack threw back his head and cried, “Ollie, Ollie Oxen Free!” His voice echoed through the cavernous building. He called out again and strained his ears listening for any sounds. His third shout was rewarded with a childish giggle. Grinning, Jack turned and faced his companions with an impish expression on his face. He bounded down the escalator to the lower level, shrugging off his backpack as he went.

“Who wants chocolate bars?” Jack called.

Suddenly, the mall was filled with shouts and laughter as children appeared from everywhere, converging on Jack and begging for chocolate. Reaching into his pack, Jack brought out a bag of miniature chocolate bars and began passing them out to the eager hands being shoved at him.

“Well, well, well – if it isn’t the speed demon,” a familiar voice called from the darkness.

Turning towards the sound, Amber got her first look at the mythic Bubba. Bray had said the girl was big, but he had understated her description. Bubba was nothing less than an Amazon. She looked bigger than most professional weightlifters, and about twice as powerful. Watching Bubba stride towards them, Amber was reminded of a battleship steaming to the attack. She had no doubts that Bubba was every bit as formidable as a battleship, too.

“What brings you back here, Speedy?” Bubba asked Jack, towering over him. Before he could answer, Bubba was lifting him off his feet in a suffocating bear hug. Setting Jack back on wobbly feet, Bubba moved down the line of Shiprats giving each a bone cracking hug as she lifted them off their feet. Amber quickly realized that Bubba’s greetings weren’t the only things that were physical – she punctuated her conversations with good-natured hearty backslaps, pokes, and jabs. All the same, Amber could tell Bubba was a shrewd dealer. She listened intently to Bray’s proposal, nodding her head every once in a while to indicate she was listening while remaining silent.

“Hell, you want those carts,” Bubba boomed. “You can have them. We got no use for them. The food will come in handy, that’s for sure. Our stores are getting pretty low, I can tell you.”

“Why do I have the feeling there’s something more, though?” Amber asked.

Bubba’s laugh filled the abandoned mall, echoing through the building. “You’re a smart one, alright! There is something else I want. You guys seem pretty resourceful, so I want just one more thing.”

“What is that?” Jack was suddenly wary.

“A bus,” Bubba said.

“A bus?” Jack echoed. “A bus! Are you kidding?”

“Look, I’m sure there’re lots of them just sitting around,” Bubba said reasonably. “But, I wouldn’t know how to go about getting them working again or fill the gas tank. You guys seem to have problems like that licked.” Bubba got serious. “Look, this isn’t just some ploy to make a deal impossible – things are getting crazy out there. The mall’s been raided about a half dozen times since you were last here. Sooner or later, we’re gonna have to make an escape and make it fast. I figure a bus will let us do that.”

“You can always come to the ship,” Amber offered.

“And, we might just do that honey,” Bubba said. “But, like I said before, the kids are pretty attached to this mall – and, well to most of them it’s the only safe place they can remember.”

“So, you don’t necessarily need a bus,” Jack said. “I mean, what you really want is transportation that will fit you and the kids, right?”

“Sure – you got something in mind, Speedy?”

“As a matter of fact, I think Jack does,” Bray smiled. “Come with me and see if our truck will fit your needs.”

Bray led Bubba up to the truck, showing her the fine points of the vehicle – the connecting door between the cab and the cargo area in the back, the comfortable seats in the cab, adding that the truck was air conditioned, and easily as good as any bus. By the time he was finished showing off their truck, Bray was feeling like a used car salesman. Bubba seemed unsure of substituting a truck for a bus.

“You could fill the back with mattresses and cushions,” Jack said, joining them. “And, I’ll fit the truck with a direct frequency radio to the ship. If you have to make a fast getaway, all you have to do is get on the radio and you’ll be instantly connected with us on the Queen. We’ll be ready and waiting for your arrival.”

“Right!” Bray added. “It would be a good idea to have a place to go in case of an emergency.”

Bubba spat in her palm, offering it to Bray, “You got a deal!”

Shrugging, Bray spat in his own hand and grasped Bubba’s huge hand to seal the deal.

While Bubba and the Shiprats were closing their deal, The Leader was busy closing his own brand of deal with the three Tribes inhabiting the small town of Hopkins. The Brotherhood, now well over two hundred strong had had little problem in overrunning the small town and herding the three Tribes into the consolidated high school football stadium. Two of the Tribes had offered very little resistance at all once they saw the odds against them. The Chief of one of the Tribes had even tried to negotiate with Alpha who ignored his offers to talk, simply shoving the confused Chief along with the other prisoners.

The third Tribe, The Badgers, were the only ones in Hopkins to offer resistance – their fight was short, but violent. By the time the skirmish was over, three Badgers lay unmoving on the ground and the remainder were being roughly shoved along to the stadium.

The Leader lounged in the sideline box that had always been reserved for special guests and athletic boosters in the days Before It Happened. Alpha and Beta sat on either side of The Leader, one row behind him. Naked, totally shaved slaves who brought them drinks and food served all three of them. The Leader ignored the nervous shuffling of the three assembled Tribes, letting their anxiety build as they wondered what was going to happen to them. He had already ordered Gull to separate the heads of the three captured Tribes from their followers. The Leader eyed the three Tribe leaders – the chief of The Badgers stared back defiantly, while the other two found it impossible to meet The Leader’s gaze straight on.

The Leader regarded the Badger chief and hated him immediately. The Badger chief was the typical boy-next-door jock – tall, square jaw, perfect head of wavy, thick black hair and sparkling blue eyes with the typical perfect name of Brandon. The Leader leaned back towards Beta, motioning his subordinate forward. He whispered instructions to Beta, who nodded his understanding, his face splitting into a feral grin. Leaving the box, Beta gathered a small group of Brotherhood soldiers and a dozen slaves before disappearing in the direction of the high school building. The Leader slouched carelessly back in his seat, popping another strawberry into his mouth and wishing he had a crown of laurel leaves circling his flowing auburn locks like one of the Caesars from Imperial Rome.

Nearly half an hour passed before Beta returned with his detail, but The Leader was patient. He knew the anticipation among his prisoners was growing. At last Beta appeared with his detail. Two of the slaves were panting, sweat pouring off their naked bodies as they struggled to carry the vault from the gymnasium at chest level between them. Some of the other slaves carried shovels. Beta directed the placement of the piece of gymnastic equipment directly in front of The Leader’s box before instructing the slaves with shovels to begin digging a hole to very specific dimensions. It clearly wasn’t big enough to be a grave.

Brandon shifted his weight, placing one foot slightly in front of the other giving him a casual appearance. He had decided from the outset he wasn’t about to let that longhaired, robed freak unnerve him. Since being dragged into the stadium, nothing much had happened – Brandon had been separated from his Tribe while that freak in the robes had stared down at him. Brandon had stared down opponents before on this very football field. He could play the stare down game with the best of them.

Brandon had to admit to himself he was a little worried when those baldheaded, naked slaves began digging. There was something creepy about them. Brandon stared at them in his best bored-with-it-all manner and then felt a chill run through his veins. Ever since he first saw them, Brandon had the feeling that there was something odd about those slaves. Suddenly, he realized that not a single one of them had any balls. The realization dawned on him that this crowd of robed assholes was behind the castrated state of the slaves. His head whipped around to stare at The Leader.

The Leader permitted himself a small grin when the realization dawned on Brandon. For the first time he saw a flash of fright appear in the Badger chief’s eyes. He turned his gaze to Gull and nodded – it was finally time to begin. Gull and his scarlet robed enforcers moved quickly as they swarmed over Brandon, stretching him lengthwise over the vault, securing his hands and feet to the legs of the piece of gym equipment. Once the Tribe chief was securely bound, his clothes were unceremoniously shredded from his body, leaving him naked before the Tribes of Hopkins. Gull pointed to Harvey and stepped aside.

Grinning viciously, Harvey stepped from his place among the enforcers and slowly stripped out of his robe and removed his pants, exposing his already hardening eight-inch organ. Walking in front of Brandon, Harvey casually fondled himself, making his dick grow erect. He smiled openly at the growing fear in Brandon’s eyes. The former football jock knew he was going to get fucked in front of everyone and was helpless to prevent it. Of course, that didn’t stop Brandon from straining against his tape bonds.

Positioning himself behind Brandon, Harvey reached out and grabbed two handfuls of Brandon’s thick, wavy hair and jerked the Badger chief’s head back so he could see the expression on everyone’s face as he was fucked. Harvey let out a piercing scream of victory as he thrust his cock inside the Badger chief; Brandon’s scream of violation was slightly louder. It took all his will to stop screaming and try to reclaim some of his dignity. Brandon knew his standing among the Hopkins Tribes had taken a serious hit, but he figured if he could endure the rape with a stoic attitude, he could regain his lost status quickly.

Brandon could feel Harvey’s cock pump its load of juice deep into him. The hands released their grip on his hair, letting his head slump to the vinyl padding of the vault. Brandon assumed his violation was over – he’d show token deference to The Leader and then, when the robed freak and his army was gone, kick ass to restore his position among all the Tribes. Then, hands grabbed his hair again; pulling his head back uncomfortably and he felt another – even thicker – cock invade his ass. Brandon felt his insides churn as the thought struck him that maybe all of The Leader’s men were about to fuck him – Brandon wasn’t sure how many there were, but it had to be at least two hundred. The idea of being violated by that many males rattled the former quarterback.

The idea of over two hundred Brethren fucking the Badger chief’s ass may have appealed to The Leader in theory, but that would have taken far more time than he cared to waste. As it was, the ten Enforcers and ten of the Neophytes were given the opportunity to rape the prisoner. Each was sure to pull Brandon’s head back so he could see the expressions of the faces of those forced to watch his abuse. Some of Brandon’s violators shot their loads over his bare ass, instead of inside of him. He could feel their juices running down the back of his legs, over his bare buttocks, drying in the early afternoon sun. When the last Neophyte emptied his load up Brandon’s ass, Gull stepped back up to the prisoner.

Gull produced a set of hand-operated clippers and went to work shearing Brandon’s wavy, thick black locks from his head. The hand powered clippers tugged and pulled Brandon’s hair as often as they cut it. It took almost fifteen minutes before his wavy mane was reduced to an uneven carpet of black stubble. But, that didn’t last long. Gull coated the prisoner’s head in shaving crème and went to work with a straight razor making Brandon’s head as smooth as glass.

When Gull was through shaving the Badger chief’s head, he ordered his Enforcers to turn the prisoner over. They moved quickly to cut through the duct tape binding Brandon’s hands and ankles to the piece of gym equipment and manhandle their prisoner onto his back, pulling his arms back and again taping them to the legs of the vault. Brandon found his legs spread wide apart as his ankles were taped into place. Still wielding his straight razor, Gull dry shaved Brandon’s generous thicket of pubic hair – making his crotch as smooth as a ten-year-olds.

Gull rubbed his fingers over Brandon’s denuded groin, smiling down evilly on his victim. He turned his attention to Brandon’s eight and a half inch penis, wrapping his fingers around it, hefting it as if he were considering a piece of meat on a butcher’s block. Gull produced a tube of SuperGlue and spread a generous amount of the adhesive all along the top of Brandon’s dick from mushroom head to base. When he was sure he had enough glue on Brandon’s cock, Gull pressed the organ back flat against the Badger chief’s belly and held it in place waiting for the glue to set. When Gull finally lifted his hand, Brandon’s penis was securely glued in place to his belly.

Sweat coated Brandon’s body – he’d seen the slaves of the Brotherhood with their shaved heads and crotches. More importantly, he’d seen enough to know that every last one of them had been castrated. He knew that was The Leader’s plan for him. Brandon was more scared than he’d ever been in his life and was already beginning to quietly weep.

The Leader stood and addressed the crowd of prisoners, “You see the kind of leader some of you mistakenly followed. The rest of you foolishly allowed yourselves to be intimidated by this unworthy example of a man.”

He paused, his gaze wandering over the crowd, “He wasn’t man enough to fight to the death – or even fight until he was physically unable to fight any longer. No! He surrendered rather than continue to fight. As a prisoner, he passively submitted to being repeatedly used sexually. You all saw it – all of you would have fought and strained against your bonds. You would have done yourselves physical harm – but not this worthless specimen! He accepted what was being done to him like the slut he is.”

The Leader looked down on Brandon in disgust, “He’s unworthy of those large balls between his legs -–those mark him as a man. But, he’s not a man at all – he’s a spineless cock hungry whore. He deserves what’s going to happen to him now.”

The Leader nodded down at Gull who moved quickly, wrapping thin wire tightly around the top of Brandon’s scrotum, pulling it taut and cutting off the blood flow with each tug of the wire.

“You do this and I’ll fucking find a way to kill you,” Brandon hissed. “You can make me look like one of your slaves, but don’t think I won’t find a way to feed you your own dicks. I swear I’ll do it!”

His desperate threats fell on deaf ears as Gull began wrapping a second coil of wire lower down on Brandon’s scrotum. Already the Badger chief’s balls were turning a dark purple as the blood pooled. Gull slid a chopping block between Brandon’s legs; under his dying balls before placing his well-honed hatchet against the tender flesh between the wire lashings he’d just finished placing.

Brandon lifted his head as high as he could to stare out at the Tribes, “Don’t just stand there! Do something – do anything. This is what they have in store for all of you. Do something before it’s too fucking late.”

Gull permitted himself the luxury of a hearty laugh as he raised his wooden mallet. He knew nobody was going to do a thing – even now, a collective gasp was making its way through the crowd of prisoners, as the Brotherhood leaned forward to see the hatchet blade sever Brandon’s balls from his body. Many of the prisoners were openly crying in fear that they’d soon be tied down to have their balls lopped off.

Gull had just started bringing the mallet down when frenzied shouts broke out from the back of the crowd. He heard The Leader’s voice bellowing orders of “Stop them!” Gull’s concentration was broken and for the first time, he missed hitting the hatchet, striking Brandon’s right knee instead. The Badger chief howled in pain, feeling his kneecap break.

Turning, Gull scanned the stadium to discover the cause of the commotion. Three prisoners had taken advantage of the events around them to make a break. They were sprinting for the opposite of the field towards the Guest bleachers – already two-dozen white-robed soldiers were in hot pursuit. Gull spun on his Enforcers, his face a mask of fury.

“Get after them, you assholes!” Gull screamed, spittle flecking his lips. “Don’t just stand there!”

His words galvanized the Enforcers. They charged through the prisoners, taking the shortest route after the three escaping prisoners. One had already reached the chain link fence in front of the stands and was vaulting over it putting more distance between him and the pursuing soldiers. For a moment, it looked like all three might manage to escape, then one of the others stumbled and fell and his companion made the mistake of stopping to try to help him to his feet. The delay was a costly mistake. The white robed soldiers swarmed over them just as Gull’s Enforcers arrived on the scene.

The third escapee didn’t bother looking back, he scrambled up the stands and leapt headlong over the wall and disappeared.

Gull glanced out to where the two escapees had been captured and then up to The Leader who made a simple slashing gesture across his throat. Nodding grimly, Gull dashed after his Enforcers. When he reached the knot of Brethren, he savagely ordered the white-robed soldiers to go after the one who had escaped before turning to his Enforcers. The two prisoners, skinny specimens – clearly not Badger Tribe – managed to look both nervous and victorious at the same time.

“Kill them,” Gull ordered. For a moment, the Enforcers looked from each other to Gull. None of them were armed. Gull rolled his eyes in exasperation, “Beat them – use your fucking hand and feet!” He stepped back as the crimson-clad Enforcers closed in on their prey, fists and feet flailing. Strangely, neither of the two escapees made a sound as they were pummeled.

From his vantage point in the stands, The Leader watched as his Enforcers fell on the prisoners. From where he stood, it was impossible to see anything but red-robed figures – their arms and feet rising and falling. After ten minutes, they stepped back from the two prone figures on the ground and fell into two ranks to march back to their place in front of The Leader’s box. As they came closer, The Leader and everyone else could see that each Enforcer was splashed in blood. Gull strode up to stand before The Leader.

“It’s done,” was all Gull said.

“Good – find out which soldiers are responsible for the escape,” The Leader ordered. “They’ll need to be punished later.”

“Yes, sir,” Gull replied, bowing his head.

“You’ve got a job to finish,” The Leader said, gently. “You reacted well.”

Gull felt a swell of pride at The Leader’s words as he strode back to Brandon. This time, there was nothing to break his concentration as he swung the mallet, striking the hatchet and severing the Badger chief’s balls.

“Bring the rope,” Gull ordered his Enforcers when he was finished the castration. They scrambled to produce the lengths of rope and cut Brandon loose from his perch on the vault. The Badger chief was forced to his knees as his hands were tied behind his back and then to his ankles. Grasping his arms, the Enforcers lifted Brandon and carried him over to the hole that had been dug.

They lowered him into the hole. The hole was just big enough to accommodate Brandon’s kneeling body. The Enforcers directed the slaves as they began filling the hole in, tamping the dirt down as they went. When they were finished, only Brandon’s bald head was left above the ground. The Leader approached and squatted down, his face radiant in its satisfaction.

“Gonna kill me now?” Brandon spat.

The Leader looked surprised, “I kill you?” He asked. “I give you my solemn pledge that neither I nor any of my followers is going to kill you.” The Leader placed his right hand over his heart, managing to look innocent. “In fact, if you don’t exhaust yourself, it might be possible for you to slip your bonds and free yourself. But, I suspect you are already finding it hard to draw a deep breath with the weight of all that dirt pressing down on your chest.”

“Now, the thing I would be most concerned about if I were in your situation,” The Leader continued, conversationally, “are the feral dogs and other animals.” He stood again, “They might find you a tasty snack.”

The Leader stepped back as Gull knelt down and began smearing canned dog food over Brandon’s head and face. Brandon spat, as Gull worked a handful of the dog food into his mouth. By the time Gull was finished, every inch of exposed flesh on Brandon’s head was coated with the dog food – Gull had even worked it into Brandon’s ears. Gull was just standing up when the soldiers returned dragging a battered body with them. He strode over to them.

“The prisoner tried to fight, sir,” one of the white-robed soldiers reported. “He presented us with no chance to take him alive.”

Gull leaned over the battered body – the face no longer looked human, its features had been pounded beyond all recognition. Gull looked suspiciously up at the soldiers who managed to look as calm as they could under the circumstances. They knew Gull could easily choose to punish them for killing the escapee if he wanted, or, he could reward them for taking initiative and returning with the battered body. Finally, Gull nodded and straightened up.

“Who was in charge?” he demanded.

For a moment, the soldiers looked nervously from one to the other. They began to back away from one of their number moments before he straightened and took responsibility, “I – uh, I was.”

Gull smiled, “Good work. You’ll be appropriately rewarded. Once the new recruits are processed, I’m sure there will be work for a new Squad Leader. That place will be yours,” he turned to the others. “As for the rest of you, there’ll be double rations for you.” He stepped back, nodding in satisfaction. “Good work, all of you.”

Once The Leader and his army had left, Brandon had tried his best to work his hands free and dig himself out of the hole. The Leader had been right – the weight of the dirt made it almost impossible for him to draw a deep breath and he quickly found himself exhausted. It hadn’t taken long before the insects began swarming all over his food encrusted head and face. Even before The Leader had departed, the flies had begun to crawl over him, getting up his nose and in his eyes. But, no animals had appeared.

But, that had been in the daylight. The sun was almost gone now and Brandon knew the packs of feral dogs came out around dusk. He resumed his struggles to escape. At some point, Brandon’s head lolled to one side in weariness. Brandon wasn’t sure whether he had passed out or just fallen asleep from his efforts. He woke with a start feeling something licking at the back of his head.

The Badger chief screamed and thrust his head back as far as he could, connecting with something furry. The yelp from behind him sounded like a small dog. It wasn’t long before the licking was back. Another jerk of his head and scream sent the animal scurrying back again. It wasn’t long before the little dog realized Brandon was helpless and grew braver as it lapped the dried dog food from Brandon’s head. In the distance, the Badger chief could hear the barking and growling of more dogs approaching in the distance. The sound made Brandon grow even more nervous than he was before.

The sound of the other dogs approaching made the little dog nervous, as well. It became bolder in its fear, no longer licking the crusted food from Brandon. It began nipping and biting, trying to grab its share of food to carry away before the back drove it away. A sudden, sharp pain shot through the side of Brandon’s head as the little dog took a big bite from his ear. Brandon could feel blood flowing freely down his neck. The little dog finally worked its way around in front of Brandon, licking at his chin. For the first time, Brandon could see that his canine tormentor was a mangy brown and white terrier dog. Brandon forced himself to stay as still as possible as the dog began licking at his mouth. Emboldened by Brandon’s sudden stillness, the terrier continued to lick at Brandon’s mouth.

Suddenly, Brandon lashed out, snapping and managing to sink his teeth into the little dog’s nose. He held on as tight as he could as the terrier whined and yelped, desperately pawing at Brandon’s face and at the same time attempting to get away. Releasing his bite on the dog, Brandon watched as the little animal dashed to the far end of the football field, its tail tucked between its legs. The Badger chief let out a whoop of victory, screaming curses at the dog. The little dog turned as if to return, barked once and again turned tail and scurried away.

Brandon was feeling pretty good about himself – congratulating himself on defeating his canine attacker. He reveled in the sounds of the little dog yelping helplessly until he heard the sounds of the pack behind him. Brandon realized that his victory over the terrier had drawn the pack to him – they had probably been attracted by the sounds of potential prey in distress. Instead of finding the terrier, they now discovered something better – Brandon.

The pack didn’t waste any time with tentative sniffing and licking. Brandon’s shouts and curses only seemed to agitate them more. They charged, jaws snapping at Brandon. Instinctively, he tucked his chin into the ground to protect it as he felt teeth scraping against his skull as the pack tore at his head. Squeezing his eyes shut, Brandon found himself sobbing as he realized he was going to die soon. All around him the dogs were snarling and growling as they bit at him.

Suddenly, the air was filled with a high, reedy scream and the dogs scattered. Brandon seemed to hear the agonized yelping of a dog in pain. He waited for them to regroup and renew their attacks on him. Instead, the pack continued to back off as the screaming grew louder. Suddenly, rocks started raining down around Brandon’s head and he realized someone was coming to his rescue.

Opening his eyes, Brandon was amazed to find Jordy Collins dropping to his knees in front of him. At first, Brandon thought he had to be dreaming – Jordy was the one who had jumped over the stadium wall; the one whose battered corpse had been dragged back to the stadium by the soldiers in white robes.

“Oh, shit man,” Jordy said, looking down at Brandon. His chest jerked once, twice and then he was violently sick, managing to twist and vomit all over the ground. “Hold on, I’ll get you free from here.” He looked around desperately for a shovel or anything to dig with. Not finding anything, he began digging at the ground with his hands.

“I – I though you were dead,” Brandon, said thickly. He was finding it difficult to make his mouth form words. “I seen your body.”

“Those freaks couldn’t catch me,” Jordy explained, as he continued digging. “I stayed low and kind of worked my way behind them to see what they were going to do. They were scared shitless about not being able to find me.” Jordy paused to catch his breath. “Brand, you’re hurt bad, man.”

“Yeah – so what happened?”

“They went back to where your Tribe fought them,” Jordy explained, resuming his digging. “They guy they brung back was Runner. Man, I almost blew chunks at the way they stomped and jumped on his body” He shuddered, remembering what he had seen.

“So whyn’t you come back sooner?” Brandon demanded.

“I wanted to – but, first I had to follow them and see what was going to happen to Scottie and Skip,” Jordy explained, naming the leaders of the other two Tribes. Jordy began crying as he dug away.

“What?” Brandon asked, spitting out a mouthful of blood. For the first time since being buried up to his neck, Brandon was finding breathing easier as Jordy moved dirt away from his chest. Jordy seemed to ignore Brandon’s question. “What happened?” Brandon asked, thickly.

Jordy squeezed his eyes closed for a moment, “You know that old wrought iron fence around the VFW Hall?” Brandon nodded. “Well, they worked two of those spikes off the gates, and they greased them up with axle grease … then, then – then, they planted those spike poles in the ground and stripped Scottie and Skip naked and lifted them up on the spikes.”

“Oh,” Brandon’s voice was very small. He knew what was coming.

“Then the one who – who, y’know, did things to you, well – he grabbed them each by the feet and pulled.” Jordy shook his head, remembering the horrible screams that had filled the air. “They stood around for a little bit, laughing. I had to wait until they were all gone before I could try to help them.” Jordy vomited again. He wiped the back of his hand over his mouth. “Scottie was already dead. He kicked so much he slid down the pole faster than Skip.”

Jordy suddenly broke down, sobbing uncontrollably, “I tried to get the pole down – oh shit, every time I touched it – Skip just screamed and screamed, and then he’d beg me to get the pole down. After a while, I got the pole knocked down, but I couldn’t pull it out of him. There was all this blood coming out of his ass and he was starting to bleed from the mouth.” He turned tearful eyes to Brandon. “I wanted to get back here sooner, I swear I did … but, I couldn’t leave Skip there to die all alone. He begged me not to leave him die all alone.”

“Dude, I didn’t know,” Brandon said, feeling like crying himself. Jordy had the upper part of his chest cleared from the dirt. “Maybe if you get behind me, you can pull me free,” he suggested.

Nodding, Jordy scrambled around behind Brandon and working his hand under the quarterback’s armpits, began pulling upwards. At first, nothing happened. Then, with the second try – as Brandon did his best to wriggle his body – Brandon moved. Jordy pulled again and this time it was clear that he was slowly getting the Badger chief free from the dirt. By the time Jordy had managed to pull Brandon onto the grass, both were exhausted. Jordy worked raw and bleeding fingers at the knots on Brandon’s bindings, he even chewed at them before finally managing to get them loose.

“Okay, get your arm around my neck,” Jordy panted. “We’ve gotta try and get in the school – maybe there’s some stuff in the Nurse’s Office – I gotta get you fixed up and stop the bleeding.”

Each hopping step brought fresh waves of pain from Brandon’s shattered knee, he couldn’t count the number of times he just wanted to lay down and die. But, Jordy refused to let him quit. He begged, cajoled, and even berated Brandon each time he begged the other boy to just give in. Eventually, Jordy managed to get them into the safety of the school building. Only when he had the doors securely closed behind them did Jordy let Brandon sink to the floor.

“I’ll be right back,” Jordy promised. “I’m going to see if the wheelchair is still in the Nurse’s Office.” He didn’t wait for an answer before breaking into a heavy, clumsy lope up the hallway. For the first time, Brandon realized how tired Jordy must be. He didn’t know how much time had passed before he heard the clatter of Jordy returning with the wheelchair. Brandon helped as much as he could as Jordy heaved him into the chair.

In the Nurse’s Office, Brandon gave silent thanks that each of the three Tribes in town had avoided raiding the school. He didn’t really know why it had been like that – maybe it was the fear of facing ghosts of the past. He didn’t know – but he was thankful as Jordy managed to find emergency candles and even a couple of camp lanterns and a gallon of kerosene. Jordy disappeared once and returned much later lugging several plastic gallon jugs filled with water, explaining he had filled them up from the swimming pool.

Before he could begin to bandage Brandon’s injuries, Jordy had to wash him clean of the dog food that had been smeared all over his head. Brandon wasn’t sure which one of them was wincing more – him from the pain, or Jordy out of sympathy. Once he was clean of the dog food, Brandon insisted Jordy find a mirror so he could see how bad his injuries were. Jordy refused, but the Badger chief was insistent. Reluctantly, Jordy rifled through the nurse’s desk for a small hand mirror. He hesitantly handed it over, wincing as Brandon gasped in horror.

He couldn’t see how the back of his head looked, but there were several large punctures around his left eye, cheekbone and jaw. His nose was split open, and the left side of his lower lip hung on by a small flap of skin, exposing his lower teeth. His left ear was nothing but a stub. There were deep scratches on the right side of his face where the terrier had scratched him. Jordy angrily snatched the mirror from Brandon’s fingers.

“I hope you’re happy now,” he said crossly. However cross he might have felt, it didn’t show in his tender ministrations as he applied bandages to the punctures and heavy pressure dressings to the mangled mess of Brandon’s left ear. Jordy tried to gingerly hold Brandon’s nose and lip in place as he applied surgical tape to hold them in place before covering them with bandages.

Jordy broke the glass on the medicine cabinet, rooting around among the pill bottles. He turned to Brandon, holding out a bottle, “The best I can find is some Tylenol – there’s nothing stronger.”

“I’m okay,” Brandon replied, dully.

“Maybe for now,” Jordy said. “But, in a few minutes I figure you’re gonna be hurting plenty again.”

“Huh?”

“We still haven’t done anything about your knee,” Jordy pointed out. “Didn’t the coaches keep those wrap-around braces down in the gym office? That’s the best thing I can think of to put on it.” He tilted his head towards the Tylenol bottle. “I think you’re gonna wish that stuff was stronger real soon.”

Jordy was right – Brandon screamed and groaned for a long time after Jordy wrapped the brace around it and pulled the straps tight. Once the knee brace was in place, Jordy produced a small jar of liquid. He explained that he had stopped at the art room and picked up some acetone.

“What’s that for?” Brandon asked through gritted teeth.

Jordy blushed, “To, um, unstuck your dick.” He gave a little laugh, “You wouldn’t want to piss in your face next time you have to pee, would you?” He hesitated. “I dunno, but this might burn a bit. But, it’s the only thing that will dissolve the SuperGlue.”

Jordy was right once again, the acetone did burn – it wasn’t intolerable, but it didn’t feel all that great, either. The worst part was that the acetone made him squirm, which aggravated the pain in his knee. Jordy was barely finished cleaning off the last of the SuperGlue when Brandon was reaching for the bottle of pain reliever.

Brandon doubled up on the recommended dosage and found the increased dose did manage to take the edge off his agony. Jordy disappeared again for a long time, returning with some cans of food and warm soft drinks. With food in their bellies, the two teens began discussing plans for their future.

“I been thinking about that,” Jordy said, gulping down some more cola. “Last I heard, my cousin Luke is at some farm down towards L. A. – I figure we should head on down that way.”

“Why?”

“Well, for one thing,” Jordy replied. “You’re gonna need more help than I can give you. For another, we got no reason to stick around here anymore, and we could use the safety of numbers if we wanna continue to survive. And finally, those freaks are headed in that direction – I have to warn Luke.”

“We’ll never get there ahead of The Leader,” Brandon said, shaking his head.

“Of course we will,” Jordy said, with assurance. “He’s going on foot – we’ll take the river. We’ll get there in no time. Me and my Dad did it with our Scout troop once. We can get a canoe or inflatable boat from the camping center.” He thought for a moment. “Of course, we’ll have to scout around for the farm once we get down there, but it shouldn’t be too hard to find. Luke came up here once to invite me down to the farm once he moved out there and gave me directions – he came by the river.”

“Why didn’t you go?”

Jordy laughed, “Can you imagine me living on a farm?” His face fell. “Besides, I was part of a Tribe then – we were all friends. Things really weren’t so bad here, were they? I mean, none of us really hassled each other. Luke was telling me how bad things had been down in the city – that’s why they moved out to that farm. I figured I was better off here.”

Brandon nodded in understanding, “I know – I thought the same thing.” He leaned back. “Okay – we rest up for a day and then we get moving.”

To be continued …