The Tribes, part 6

The Tribes, Chapter 6

Standing on the Boat Deck of the Queen Mary, Bray silently thanked Jack for being so obsessive. Back at the SuperCenter, Bray had doubted they’d manage to even reach the old liner when he’d seen the modifications Jack had made to the go-carts. Both had fiberglass car top storage bins bolted to the tops of their roll cages. As if that wasn’t enough, Jack and Dal had bolted hitches to the back of the go-carts and hitched up the heavy duty garden wagons that should have been hitched behind the garden tractors. Checking the wagons and storage bins, Bray found them brimming over with what Jack called “necessities.” Sighing, Bray decided not to even try arguing with Jack – otherwise, they’d never get moving towards the Queen Mary.

Jack had finally stopped trying to squeeze “one last thing” into the wagon and Bray was about to climb into his go-cart when he got his second big surprise of the day. Amber marched out onto the Garden Center patio dressed in black cargo pants tucked into heavy hunting boots. A tan hunting vest covered a black tank top. It was clear she intended to join them on the expedition. Bray began to open his mouth to object to her presence, but one glance from Amber was enough to tell him that he’d never win that argument.

To his surprise, the carts managed to pull the heavy load without too much strain. Of course, they couldn’t speed along like they had on earlier expeditions, but they were able to move along at a pretty good clip. Bray had found a city street map by one of the now silent checkout counters and mapped a route to Long Beach favoring mostly the wide four-lane highways. He expected the possibility of a few road blocks. Many communities and even neighborhoods had deliberately set up roadblocks in a vain attempt to stop the spread of the flu. But, the real reason for taking the broad highways was one of safety. Bray figured they’d be safer on the open roads, rather than taking the narrow surface streets with buildings on either side. Those streets were just ambushes waiting for victims. And Bray had no intention of being one of those victims.

It took well over an hour to reach the old liner. Careful examination of the ship from a distance and from close up, showed that the ship was deserted. At first, neither Bray nor Amber could understand why one of the other Tribes hadn’t already taken over the ship. Climbing up the gangway to the lobby foyer entrance, the four saw that someone had smashed out the double glass doors. But, a heavy duty security gate behind the glass doors had prevented entrance. While Bray and Amber examined the gate in hope of finding a way in, Jack and Dal silently returned to the carts. Seeing them wander down the gangway, Amber felt sorry for them. She couldn’t imagine how depressed they must feel to come so close and still be so far from their goal. She turned her attention back to Bray who was busy trying to find a way to pry the gates loose.

Hearing grunting behind them, Jack and Bray turned to find Jack and Dal lugging a small gas-powered generator up the gang way. Jack had a backpack slung over his shoulder. Setting the generator to one side of the doors, Dal pulled the crank rope a few times before the generator began chugging away. Meanwhile, Jack was unloading his backpack – pulling a heavy duty circular saw from the pack and plugging it in.

Glancing at Bray and Amber with a mischievous grin, Jack held the saw up proudly, “Carbide blade.” He pressed the saw’s trigger experimentally and was rewarded with a deep, powerful whine. “This thing will cut through almost anything.”

Jack stepped up to the still locked glass door frame, and carefully sliding the blade between the doors just below the bolt, started the saw. The heavy saw bucked when the blade hit the bolt and then settled down. It was just a matter of seconds before Jack was through the bolt and able to open the empty door frames wide. It took just a little longer for Jack to cut through the lock of the security gate. Grinning, he stepped aside and let Bray spread the gates wide as Dal cut the generator off.

Bray figured Jack would make a bee line for the boiler rooms of the old liner, and was surprised when Jack began hunting for the souvenir shop. Following Jack’s bobbing flashlight beam, Amber was astonished to find Jack picking over the book racks frantically. Eventually he gave a cry of joy and retreated from the shop back to the gangway where he and Dal began flipping through the pages of the book. Glancing over their shoulders, Amber saw that the book was all about the Queen Mary and contained detailed deck plans. They obviously found what they wanted, because moments later the two teens were leading Bray and Amber directly to the Boat Deck.

Once out in the bright sunlight on the Boat Deck, Jack began explaining what he and Dal were up to – they were looking for the emergency generator that was used to provide the ship’s radio and upper decks with lights in an emergency. As usual when Jack was excited, his voice cracked and he stuttered as he explained their idea of building windmills that could turn the generator and make electricity for their needs. Of course, Jack added, the emergency generator was only a temporary power source until he and Dal were able to work the kinks out of a method to get the ship’s boilers and main turbines running – then, they would have all the power the need and then some.

Once they found the generator, the two technogeeks spent nearly an hour examining it, chortling and giggling with glee the whole time. By the time they were finished, Dal was nearly as excited as Jack over the possibilities they faced. Amber had a hard time making them take a break long enough to have a modest lunch before they began the arduous task of unloading all the equipment they’d loaded into the wagons and car carriers. It was clear the two planned to stay on the ship and work around the clock while Bray and Amber headed back to the SuperCenter and started preparing to box everything up and move it to the Queen Mary.

Reluctantly, Bray agreed they were right – Jack and Dal could accomplish more by staying on the ship than they could traveling back and forth every day. He made plans to visit the ship every three days to make sure they were safe and didn’t need additional help.

By the time Bray and Amber returned to the SuperCenter, they found themselves too busy to constantly worry about the two they had left behind. Walking up and down the aisles of the store made them realize just how much work they had facing them. Everything needed to be boxed up, packed on pallets and loaded on a truck for transport. Bray realized he’d need to find a large moving truck for the move, and that meant using Jack's pump to get gasoline for it – once he found a truck that was still in working order. It dawned on him that getting the truck was going to be the easiest of their tasks – priorities had to be assigned to the goods in the store. Obviously food, the pharmacy contents, and first aid supplies should be assigned the highest priorities. Then came clothes, batteries, and tools. He shook his head in wonder at the task before them.

With all the work facing them, it was four days before Bray could break away from the SuperCenter and return to the Queen Mary. What he found on the ship was astounding. Jack and Dal had created four windmills from fifty-five gallon drums. They were connected to a complex system of gears and pistons that turned the generator. Dal’s smile was almost as bright as the electric lights that burned brightly in the dining room. Another week, Dal explained, and he and Jack should have all the staterooms on the new electrical grid they were creating.

If Bray had found Dal beaming, Jack was positively effusive. He hinted that by the next time Bray visited, there would be a “seriously major surprise” waiting for him. All of Bray’s efforts to get Jack to say more about the surprise were met by a Cheshire Cat-like grin, but Jack refused to say another word about it. He took Bray to the Well Deck by the bow and showed him the forward crane that he and Dal had put back into service. It was hand powered at the moment, but they would be able to winch up the supplies moved from the SuperCenter onto the ship instead of carrying everything up the gangway one item at a time. Jack was sure that if he could find a big enough generator, he could use it to power the crane and lift even heavier loads more quickly.

As Dal and Jack watched Bray zoom off in his go-cart later that afternoon, Dal turned to Jack, “What did Bray have to say about you leaving the ship to scrounge around for the parts you need?”

“Nothing,” Jack replied.

“You didn’t tell him, did you?” Dal accused, his dark eyes filling with worry.

“Well – no,” Jack admitted. “If I did, he’d just worry and he’s got enough to worry about right now as it is.” Jack smiled weakly at Dal. “I was scrounging for things long before I met Bray. I’ll be okay.” Inwardly, Jack hoped he was right. The truth was that there weren’t as many gangs or Tribes where he had been before and so it had been easier to avoid detection and capture. He’d just have to be extra careful, that’s all, he told himself.

When Bray returned three days later, the first thing he noticed was a system of white PVC pipes leading from a hydrant in the parking lot to the side of the ship. Before he could ask Dal or Jack to explain the pipes, they were handing him a small bar of soap and leading him to one of the staterooms. In the bathroom Jack turned on the taps in the shower. Bray watched in amazement as water sprayed from the shower head. Grinning, Dal handed him a towel and promised to explain everything after Bray had indulged in a shower.

Setting his curiosity aside, Bray quickly stripped and stepped under the shower spray. The water was cold, but not icy. Still, that didn’t matter to Bray. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a real shower. Turning his face to the spray, Bray let the water wash over him for the longest time before he began soaping his body. His nipples grew hard as he rubbed the sweet-scented soap over his chest, sending tingles of excitement through his chest and belly. Almost immediately, his thick cock responded to the stimulation and began lengthening as it grew to its full seven-and-a-half inches. His eyes closed, Bray reached down and began sliding his soapy hand up and down the hard shaft. He began to pant as he took his time stroking himself.

As Bray pumped his cock, the image of Jack standing in the shower with him came into his mind. He imagined it was Jack’s hand sliding all over his erect shaft and playing with his loose ball sac. Bray could feel his mouth spread wide in a sensuous grin as he imagined Jack’s hand stroking him to climax. His breath grew ragged as his chest heaved. Bray could feel his heart beating faster and faster as his balls churned and twisted. His orgasm, when it burst from him, was explosive – his seed splattering against the shower wall. After catching his breath, Bray cleaned himself up and rinsed off, feeling the warm glow that always followed an orgasm for him.

Drying off, he was surprised to find he’d been in the shower for over half an hour. He was tempted to step back into the shower and spend another half hour under the cool water, but his curiosity over how Jack and Dal managed to get running water overpowered him.

“There’s nothing to it,” Jack said happily, as he spooned fruit cocktail directly from the can to his mouth. “We noticed the hydrant in the parking lot was sweating …”

“Sweating?” Bray asked.

“Yeah … you know, beads of water on the hydrant,” Dal said. “That meant there was water in the line.”

“But, without power …” Bray protested.

“You don’t necessarily need power to make water run,” Jack interrupted. “All you need is gravity. Water flows downhill. The source of water for the hydrant must be somewhere up in the hills. As long as it doesn’t dry up, it will keep flowing through the pipes. And, that means it will keep flowing through the pipes we ran from the hydrant to the ship’s fresh water tanks …”

“Which provides us with the water pressure to have water coming from every tap,” Bray finished.

“Exactly,” Jack beamed. “Of course, it should be treated first before drinking it, but it should be okay for showering and washing up and stuff like that.”

“So where’d you find the PVC pipes?”

Jack’s face darkened, and he started fidgeting, “I … ah, well … I went scrounging through the area.”

“That was dangerous!” Bray exploded.

“I know, but I was careful,” Jack defended himself. “We’ve got to take some risks to make things better, sometimes.”

The argument went on for a long time, but in the end Bray was forced to admit Jack was right. Almost everything in this post flu world carried an element of danger, and Jack was experienced in scrounging for the supplies he needed to make life better. Bray still didn’t like the risks Jack was taking, but he didn’t see any other options. Their band was still small, Heather, Amber, and Selene were needed back at the SuperCenter to keep the kids in line. Peter was still weak from his illness, and everyone silently agreed he should be given more time to rebuild his strength before asking too much of him. Backing off his argument, Bray settled for making Jack promise to be extra careful and take absolutely no chances. Grinning, Jack crossed his heart and promised he’d be careful.

At the time, none of them realized how hard that promise would be to keep.

After Bray left, Dal noticed they were experiencing a loss of power to the generator. At first he thought the wind was just dying down. But, going on deck he found a good steady sea breeze, so something else was causing the power loss. Getting Jack, the two of them went over the power system from top to bottom and found the problem was in windmills themselves. Once the windmills were identified as the cause, Jack realized the problem. The windmills needed ball bearings to keep from binding up due to excessive friction.

Jack remembered seeing boxes and boxes of the type of bearings they’d need to correct the problem. As he prepared to leave the ship to forage for the bearings, Dal reminded him of his promise to Bray. Jack nodded, the last thing he intended to do was take any unnecessary risks. Unlike his other forays where he didn’t know where to find the things they needed, Jack knew exactly where the bearings were located. This little expedition should be a simple in and out trip. He waited until after midnight to leave the ship – the gangs and Tribes were usually all asleep by then. Slipping through the security gate, Jack watched as Dal locked it behind him and promised to be back long before dawn.

Dressed all in black, Jack blended in with the shadows as he made his way from street to street to the auto supply where he remembered coming across the ball bearings. Reaching his destination, Jack checked his watch – he was making excellent time. All he needed to do was fill his backpack and he could be out of the shop. The streets had been silent, and Jack didn’t see any reason to expect them to be any different on his return trip. He figured he’d be back at the ship hours before his self-imposed deadline.

Jack was just sliding through the partially open side door into the shadows when the darkness was split by a bright tongue of flame. Bright spots of color swam in front of Jack’s eyes. Strong hands grabbed him and threw him to the ground roughly.

“Well, well, well … what do we have here, my little chickies?” An oily voice sounded above him. Jack blinked, clearing his eyes. Looking around at the faces crowding around him, Jack’s heart sank. There wasn’t any doubt in his mind which Tribe had him in their clutches – all of the people crowding around him were dressed like circus performers. They could only come from Tribe Circus. Jack didn’t know much about them, but he knew enough to know they were bad news. Jack lashed out with his foot, hoping for a chance to break away. Instead, the Tribe member dressed like a circus strongman – complete with shaved head and painted on black moustache – grabbed his foot and jerked him upwards so he was hanging upside down.

“Careful, careful Bruno,” the oily voice warned. “Take care with our little monkey.” From his upside down vantage point, the only thing Jack could tell about the speaker was that he wore highly polished riding boots. “Over your shoulder the little monkey goes. Bring him with us where we can examine him properly.” The next thing Jack knew, his hands and feet were bound and he was literally tossed over Bruno’s shoulder.

Jack had no idea where they were taking him – he couldn’t see much more than Bruno’s bare, muscular back and, by twisting his head around, the street beneath Bruno’s feet. He could tell the group had traveled in the direction away from the Queen Mary, making several turns. Eventually, they entered a huge warehouse and stopped. Bruno waited as torches were lit before dumping Jack on the ground. Jack barely had time to look around before he was dragged across a dirt floor and hung spread-eagle between two posts.

Jack tried to control his fear as he stared around at the Tribe members – several of them, male and female, were dressed in acrobatic tights. There were about a dozen clowns – one of them, with his teeth filed to sharp points. About four of the Tribes were dressed like old time Midway barkers in awning striped vests, arm garters, and straw hats. Jack knew Bruno was somewhere behind him. There were three girls in heavy makeup that caught Jack’s attention. They all wore stacked platform shoes that added almost at least six inches to their height. The three of them were dressed in nearly mini-shirts and tube tops. Only the color of the clothing was different. Their hair was cotton candy pink and heavily lacquered to hold the up flipped ends in place. Jack was willing to bet their hair wouldn’t move a fraction of an inch in gale force winds. The most intriguing thing was that the three of them moved and spoke in unison – almost like the three of them shared one mind. They reminded Jack of a girl band backup group in need of a leader. All of them regarded Jack with evil smirks and waited.

“Oooooh,” the three wailed. “He’s cock of the walk, top of the heap, a real cool cat. Make way, make way, make way for Top Hat.”

The girls shuffled backwards in unison as the one called Top Hat strode into the center of the group. He was indeed wearing a top hat as part of his Ring Master costume. He wore a bright red cutaway coat, puffy jodhpurs, and highly polished riding boots. Top Hat’s face was painted in clown white makeup. Only the black star that covered his right eye and the black lipstick gave his face any depth. He doffed his top hat and bowed deeply, revealing jet black hair that was so slicked down that it looked almost like his hair was painted on.

“Thank you, thank you Pussycats – as always, your introductions do me justice.” Top Hat looked around his Tribe before turning to Jack. “Yes, yes, yes – we have a new attraction among us,” Top Hat called in his oily voice. “The only question is what skills it has to offer to Top Hat and the Tribe Circus.” Top Hat strode imperiously over to stand next to Jack.

“Can it juggle for Top Hat?” He asked softly. “No? What a shame.” Top Hat threw his head back theatrically, as if thinking deep thoughts, tapping a painted fingernail against his chin. “Can it swing from a trapeeze for Top Hat? Can it do acrobatics for Top Hat?”

Jack shook his head negatively in response to each question put to him by Top Hat. He began to think that since he had no usable circus skills, the Tribe would tire of him and throw him out on the street. For several minutes, Top Hat dramatically strode around in a circle lamenting loudly Jack’s lack of entertainment skills. Jack was beginning to resent being called “it” every time Top Hat referred to him. Suddenly, Top Hat stopped directly in front of Jack, smiling broadly.

“It lacks performing skills, to be sure,” Top Hat called over his shoulder. “But, Top Hat thinks it is not entirely without entertainment value.” Top Hat reached out and stroked Jack’s face. “It has a cute face – so smooth and fair.” Top Hat traced his thumb along Jack’s mouth. “Top Hat likes its mouth – such pretty lips. Lips that just beg to be wrapped around something long, thick, and hard.” Top Hat’s smile disappeared, replaced by a howl of pain as Jack’s head snapped forward like a snake’s, biting hard on Top Hat’s thumb. He’d show everyone what they could expect if they planned to put anything in his mouth. He could taste blood seeping into his mouth as he kept his teeth clenched around Top Hat’s thumb.

Pain exploded in Jack’s groin as the Tribe leader lashed out with one well-polished boot and kicked his attacker in the balls. The pain radiated outward through Jack’s belly – like the ripples in a pond. He opened his mouth to gasp for breath, giving Top Hat the chance to pull his bleeding thumb to safety. For a moment, Top glared malevolently at Jack. Then, his expression changed and he actually smiled.

“The little monkey has fire in his belly,” Top Hat said, his voice even oilier than before. “Top Hat has a way to put out that fire.” He glanced over his shoulder at the clowns. “Strip him!”

As one, the clowns descended on Jack, ripping his clothes to shreds as they pulled them off. In a matter of minutes, Jack was spread-eagled totally naked in front of the whole Tribe as Top Hat circled around, examining him from every angle.

“Nice, nice … Top Hat is pleased,” he cooed. “The little monkey is defined without being muscle bound. Top Hat likes that.” He circled around behind Jack again. “Of course, the monkey will need some cleaning up and prettying up. But, first … to use my fire hose to dampen the fire in its belly.”

Jack clenched his eyes shut, trying to mentally prepare himself for the invasion he feared was coming. The last thing he wanted to do now was give Top Hat and the Tribe Circus the satisfaction of seeing him beg. He could hear Top Hat fumbling with his clothes behind him. Then, his hair was pulled hard as Top Hat yanked his head back.

“You will howl my little monkey when Top Hat enters you,” he hissed. “In the beginning, you will howl with pain and shame. But, Top Hat promises before long your howls will be of pleasure.”

Jack felt his butt cheeks spread wide apart, and then he felt IT. Shivers of fear ran up and down his spine as he felt Top Hat’s cock start its slide between his spread cheeks. Top Hat was massively endowed – he slowly pressed the broad mushroom head between Jack’s cheeks, sadistically teasing him. Unconsciously, Jack tightened up as Top Hat began pressing himself into Jack. Top Hat laughed maniacally in Jack’s ear as he suddenly thrust himself forward.

Jack felt like his ass and insides were being ripped apart. He couldn’t help screaming out in shock at the violation and the pain he was experiencing. The Pussycats laughed in unison at Jack’s humiliation, leading the others in jeers and catcalls as Top Hat violently thrust his hips back and forth, pounding himself against Jack’s ass. Each thrust was accompanied by a fresh howl of pain from Jack.

Top Hat pressed his chest tight against Jack’s back. He leaned forward and began nibbling Jack’s neck as he continued his rhythmic thrusts. The nibbled turned into nips, sending new pain through his victim. Then, he viscously bit Jack’s shoulder hard, drawing blood.

“That should teach it not to bite,” Top Hat laughed to his Tribe members. “And now, for something new!”

Reaching around, Top grabbed each of Jack’s nipples and twisted them as hard as he could. A fresh, higher pitched howl escaped Jack’s lips as new pain blossomed across his chest. For a moment he really believed Top Hat was going to rip his nipples right off. Then, Top Hat’s fingers opened and he wrapped his arms around Jack’s narrow chest as he fired his load inside his captive. He was no gentler pulling out of Jack than he was thrusting himself into him. Jack sagged in his bonds, his head slumped forward in shame.

Top Hat swaggered around in front of Jack, his jodhpurs buttoned up. He remained bare-chested, but his top hat was perched at a jaunty angle on his head. He swaggered over to the Pussycats, his hand outstretched. They cooed with delight as the middle one produced a riding crop and handed it over. Slapping the crop against his hand, Top Hat made his way around Jack and without advance warning savagely swung the crop twice against Jack’s back. Jack’s new scream escaped his sore throat.

“Oooooh,” the Pussycats cooed. “One, two … make him black and blue.”

The crop landed twice more, accompanied by screams from Jack.

“Three, four … give him more,” the Pussycats chanted.

“Five, six … teach him new tricks,” they called as two fresh blows split the skin on Jack’s back.

“Seven, eight … he’ll like it hard and straight.”

“Nine, ten … fuck him again and again.”

Somewhere around the fifteenth blow, Jack’s mind shut down and the chants of the Pussycats no longer registered in his mind. Even the pain of the blows seemed to diminish. Jack couldn’t imagine Top Hat taking any pity on him and moderating his blows. He thought the blows stopped somewhere around twenty-five or so. It didn’t really matter to him anymore, he was beyond feeling anything at that point. He thought he heard Top Hat’s smarmy voice and then he didn’t remember anything after that.

The next thing he knew, Jack found himself face down in a pile of straw. Trying to move brought fresh waves of pain that almost caused him to pass out again. He could feel cold metal against his ankles and something clanked when he moved. Opening his eyes, Jack found it hard to make out much in the dim light. He thought he could make out a cracked concrete wall across from him. He groaned and lowered his head to the straw again.

“So you’re back among the living,” a pleasant voice said softly.

Jack twisted his head around and listlessly blinked in the direction of the voice. In the dim light he could just discern the indistinct outline of the speaker. He opened his mouth to speak, managing only a meager croak from his parched throat. The figure scooted closer towards Jack, jangling as he moved. As the figure got closer, Jack feebly raised an arm to ward him off. The figure stopped suddenly.

“Hey – relax,” the stranger said gently, holding out his open hands in a gesture designed to be non-threatening. “The name’s Sasha, and I’m a prisoner, too” Sasha reached down and pulled up the chain padlocked around his ankle. When Jack lowered his hand, Sasha moved closer and tenderly ran his fingers over Jack’s back. “They really worked you over, dude.”

Sasha crawled back to his corner of the cell and returned with a chipped enamel mug. Reaching into his sleeve, Sasha produced a red bandana and dipped it into the mug. He squeezed most of the water out before patting the wadded up cloth over Jack’s lips. After a moment, he squeezed a few drops of the water into Jack’s mouth.

“Just take a little bit at a time,” Sasha said tenderly. He looked over Jack’s back again. “Wish I had more water so I could get your back cleaned up.” Sasha noticed Jack’s eyes begin to glaze over. He soaked the bandana again and began mopping Jack’s brow. “Hey, stay with me,” he whispered urgently. “Don’t slip into shock over what they did to you, dude. C’mon, stay with me … tell me your name.” Sasha thought he saw Jack’s eyes begin to focus. “C’mon, you can do it … tell me your name … I can’t keep calling you dude.”

“ja – jack,” came the raspy answer.

Sasha patted Jack’s head lightly, “That’s the boy. I knew you could do it.” Sasha noticed Jack’s blue eyes regarding him. He tried to look his most disarming.

It was hard to tell much in the dim light, about all Jack could really tell about his fellow prisoner was that Sasha had big, round, puppy dog, brown eyes and an open, pleasant face. He appeared to be wearing a doll on his head, but Jack figured that didn’t make sense. It must be a trick of the shadows, he decided.

For the next several hours, Sasha tenderly ministered to Jack as best as he could with the limited resources available to them – namely a damp bandana and a mug of tepid water. His biggest concern was that Jack would retreat into some unreachable recess of his mind and become catatonic. He helped Jack sit up, stroking his face and keeping up a running chatter. At first, Jack barely showed any response at all.

On the Queen Mary, Dal was pacing along the gangway in agitation as he examined the late afternoon sky. Jack had never been this late before – any number of things could have gone wrong. Jack could simply have been forced to hide from some Tribe or gang and was still in hiding. Or, he could have been injured and was laying out in some back alley in pain, maybe even bleeding or worse. Or, worst of all, he could have been captured. Dal didn’t even want to imagine what tortures Jack might be suffering if he’d been captured. He knew what had been done to Peter – and he survived. Dal and the others had seen the broken bodies of those who had been captured by marauding Tribes and not survived. It didn’t take much imagination to know that those who had died had suffered horribly and for a long time.

Dal desperately wanted to padlock the security gate and go off in search of his friend. But, he knew he couldn’t do that. For one thing, he had no idea where to even begin a search. For another, he knew Jack would expect him to protect the Queen Mary and the improvements they’d made to her. He had no choice but to wait for Bray’s return and hope that it wasn’t too late for Jack by that time.

In their shared cell, Sasha was doing his best to keep Jack from drifting into a catatonic state. He showed the injured prisoner his jester’s cap, explaining he’d made it himself. It did look like a doll sitting on top of his head and Sasha sometimes used it as an impromptu puppet. He was a traveling entertainer in the old minstrel tradition from the olden days. He described traveling from one town to another with his instruments – singing songs, juggling, performing puppet shows, and magic tricks in return for food and temporary lodgings. But, his past experiences didn’t seem to have any interest to Jack. Undaunted, Sasha described how Tribe Circus had captured him and made him their slave, forcing him to perform for their shows. Sasha thought he saw Jack’s eyes react at the mention of Top Hat.

He was about to talk more about Top Hat when the door to the cell opened and Bruno filled the doorway. “He wants the two of you up in the arena,” Bruno said, unlocking the chains from the two prisoners. Sasha climbed to his feet obediently – he’d decided as soon as he was captured that the best thing to do was bide his time and when the opportunity was right, try to escape. Until then, the only thing he could do was cooperate.

Bruno gave a low whistle and two of the clowns stepped into the cell. He jerked a sausage-like finger at Jack and then towards the door. The clowns moved quickly to grab Jack’s arms and frog march him from the cell. Jack offered no resistance.

In the arena, Jack was once again strapped between the posts spread-eagle as the Tribe surrounded him in a semi-circle. Sasha watched intently as the Tribe jeered and teased Jack. At first, the signs were so subtle and indistinct that he almost missed them. Jack’s lips tightened ever so slightly and his eyes lost some of their glazed appearance. Finally, Top Hat entered the arena, making a grand entrance as usual. And then, Sasha saw it – Jack tried to lift his head to a more erect and defiant posture. His blue eyes became clear and icy.

“So, little monkey boy,” Top Hat called out in his oily voice. “Have you learned your lesson?” He reached out and cupped his hand under Jack’s chin. “Are you ready to open those pretty lips, yet?”

Jack’s answer was plain enough for even the dimmest of the Tribe to understand. He drew his lips back, baring his teeth in a feral manner as he rasped, “I bite.”

Jack’s answer made Sasha’s heart soar. But, Top Hat’s response sickened him. Top Hat produced his riding crop and began methodically whipping his prisoner’s chest, concentrating his blows around Jack’s tender nipples. Each blow was accompanied by unified coos of excitement from the Pussycats. At first, only angry red welts appeared across Jack’s chest creating a crosshatch pattern. Then, as Top Hat found his stride, his blows began splitting the smooth, white flesh. Sasha felt sick as he watched Jack endure the savage beating.

Eventually, a blood splattered Top Hat grew tired of the lashings he was dishing out. His blows became weaker as his arm grew heavy. Jack was slumped in his bonds. For a minute, Sasha thought Top Hat had beaten the small teen to death. Top Hat grabbed a handful of Jack’s hair, yanking the young man’s head back savagely. He thrust his face close to Jack’s screaming incoherently at the top of his lungs. A weak flicker of a smile played at the edges of Jack’s mouth and then he vomited right in Top Hat’s face.

Sasha had to control his initial impulse to cheer Jack’s act of defiance. He also found it hard to keep from laughing uproariously at the expression on Top Hat’s face as he stomped around in circles madly clawing at his face in a frantic attempt to wipe Jack’s vomit from his face. The three Pussycats crowded around their leader waving their arms in unison, trying to help him. Suddenly, they were covered in vomit as Top Hat began spewing his guts. Sasha sincerely hoped the Pussycats would return the favor, but somehow they managed to hold their stomach contents down.

“Get them out of my sight!” Top Hat screamed, pointing wildly in Jack’s direction. Actually, it sounded more like “Geeumattmsiet” but, the way he was upchucking, Sasha could understand how hard it would be for Top Hat to make coherent sounds. Bruno grabbed Sasha’s arm, half dragging him across the ring towards Jack as two of the clowns unstrapped Jack and dragged him back to the cell.

In the cell, the clowns threw Jack to the straw floor and backed out as Bruno entered with Sasha. The Tribe Circus strongman wrapped the chain tightly around Sasha’s ankle before turning his attention to shackling Jack as well. As he stood over Jack, a strange thing happened that surprised Sasha. Jack managed to get to his knees and throw his arms around Bruno’s waist.

“P-please, don’t let him hurt me anymore,” Jack blubbered, clawing desperately at Bruno. “I’ll do anything you want – I …I give up. I can’t take anymore.” Jack’s voice took on a hysterical tenor. “I couldn’t help myself … I didn’t mean to be sick. I’m scared what he’s going to do next.” A wheedling note entered the hysteric babbling. “You’re stronger than him … I’ll do anything if you protect me.” Jack buried his face against Bruno’s thigh and sobbed like a baby.

Sasha felt sick to his stomach to see Jack suddenly break down so completely. Watching him be sadistically beaten was bad enough, but to be huddled across the cell and witness Jack humiliate himself like that was almost too much for Sasha to bear.

Bruno, on the other hand, was enjoying every minute of Jack’s begging. A perverse grin spread across his ugly face as he pushed Jack away from him. He took his time wrapping the chain around Jack’s ankle and snapping the padlock shut. At the door, he looked back at Jack huddled on the floor in a fetal position. The perverse grin became lecherous and he winked salaciously in Jack’s direction before slamming the door closed.

Sasha stared sadly in Jack’s direction as Bruno’s footsteps receded. For several minutes, Jack remained curled up on the floor looking pathetic. Then, with a deep groan, he pushed himself up to a sitting position and stared at Sasha as if analyzing him. Sasha stared back, totally confused – just a few minutes ago Jack was debasing himself and literally begging to suck cock. Now, he had a foxy look in his eyes.

“Do you know how to get to the Queen Mary?” Jack whispered, his voice a raspy croak.

“Sure,” Sasha answered, his curiosity mounting. “Why?”

“I think Top Hat’s going to kill me the next time,” Jack said out of the blue. “I don’t think I can make it out of here all by myself. Will you help me get to the ship?”

“Sure,” Sasha was sure Jack’s mind had slipped its grip on reality. There was no way they were going anywhere chained to the wall the way they were. Jack’s lips split in a wide grin, like he could read Sasha’s mind. Extending his fist, Jack opened his fingers like a flower blooming. Nestled in his palm was Bruno’s padlock key.

Jack took a deep, painful breath, “Pull your chain through the ring in the wall … double it over a couple of times and make sure the padlock’s on it … wait until Bruno’s occupied with me … and then, then …”

“Then, it’s light’s out for Bruno,” Sasha finished.

Jack tried to sleep, deciding he’d need all the strength he could muster. He figured they had at least a couple of hours before Bruno showed up – IF he showed up at all, that is. He tried to go over the variables in his mind – the plan was slapdash at best and potentially lethal at worst. It was possible that if Bruno showed up, he’d be accompanied by one of the clowns or maybe those annoying Pussycats. But, he didn’t really think that was likely – at least not the first time. He rested his head on the straw and tried to ignore the pain as much as possible so he could relax.

He jolted awake, light was streaming in through the bars on the door and he could hear someone jangling the keys in the lock. He held his breath, carefully drawing his legs up as he prepared to rise to his knees. Over on the other side of the cell, Sasha was rising to his knees as well. The door opened and Bruno stepped into the cell, a lantern in his hand. He glanced around and scowled at seeing Sasha on his knees.

“Who’s interested in you, juggler?” He snarled, backhanding Sasha ferociously and slamming him against the wall.

Jack scrambled to his knees, pain singing out in every muscle of his body. Sasha’s head hit the wall, and he slumped down to the floor in a heap. Jack swallowed – everything depended on Sasha hitting Bruno from behind. He knew he didn’t have the strength to even attempt an attack on the weightlifter. Bruno hung the lantern from a hook on the ceiling before turning to leer at Jack.

“You want protection, you gotta pay for it,” Bruno said, licking his lips in anticipation. “Top Hat’s right – you do have a pretty mouth.” He reached out and rubbed his thumb roughly across Jack’s lips. His ugly face turned hard as he grabbed Harry’s chin in a vice-like grip. “You even think about biting me and I’ll snap your fucking neck like a pencil, you unnerstand?” Jack tried to nod. His eyes darted around wildly. Bruno laughed at what he thought was unbridled fright in the prisoner. But, Jack was trying to see around the circus strongman to see if Sasha was okay.

Bruno unbuckled his belt with one hand, still holding Jack’s chin in his firm grip. It was a clumsy effort to one-handedly push his pants and underpants down to his ankles. His erect dick sprang out towards Jack’s face. A huge thicket of black hair surrounded the six inch cock – Jack was surprised that Bruno wasn’t much bigger. The rest of Bruno’s body was massive so that in comparison, his dick looked much smaller than it really was. Taking his dick in his hand, Bruno wiped his cock across Jack’s face, laughing sadistically at the look of disgust that appeared on Jack’s face. He pressed the mushroom head tightly against Jack’s lips trying to force it into his victim’s mouth. Bruno transferred his grip on Jack’s chin to grab a handful of Jack’s hair.

“Open your mouth – I wanna feel those sweet lips wrapped abound me,” Bruno snarled. From behind them, something moved in the straw. Bruno began to turn to see what the noise was. Jack knew Bruno mustn’t turn around yet. He had no choice.

Opening his mouth, Jack took Bruno’s cock into his mouth. The warm, moist mouth surrounding his dick made Bruno forget all about the sound from behind. He sighed in pleasure and began rubbing his hands all over Jack’s head. Trying not to think about what he was doing, Jack began bobbing his head up and down on the erect shaft. From the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of Sasha getting carefully to his feet. Jack felt his heart beat faster. His eyes began to burn in triumph. He chanced one more look in Sasha’s direction. The juggler was silently closing the gap between himself and Bruno.

Jack tried to pull his head away from Bruno’s erection, but the bodybuilder held Jack’s head in place. Shuddering, Jack snapped his jaws closed as hard as he could. He nearly choked as blood flooded into his mouth. He ground his jaws together and felt Bruno back away from him. But, that was wrong, because Jack could still feel Bruno’s cock in his mouth. Suddenly, he realized he had actually bitten right through the cock. He glanced up as he spit Bruno’s cock out. The strongman had his hands clasped over his groin, blood spurting through his fingers as his mouth was opened in a silent scream. Jack saw Sasha’s hand swing in a wide arc and rolled to one side.

Swinging the doubled up chain with all his might, Sasha caught Bruno under the left ear. A dull crack filled the room as the padlock connected, splitting the flesh on Bruno’s head. Jack watched as Bruno’s eyes comically crossed before rolling up in his head. He dropped heavily to his knees before toppling over to his side.

Sasha was ashen-faced, “I think I killed him.”

“I hope you did,” Jack croaked, trying to climb onto his feet. He wiped at his mouth, trying to get the taste of blood from his mouth. He thought about Bruno living without his penis. “Then again, maybe it would be better for him to still be alive.”

Sasha grabbed Jack’s arm and yanked him to his feet, “Whatever – we don’t have time to waste. Let’s get out of here.”

Arm in arm, the two prisoners stealthily made their way up the concrete steps and peered out onto the empty arena area. Nothing moved. Both knew the safest thing for them to do was stick to the shadows and try to make their escape that way. But, both were anxious to spend any more time around Tribe Circus than they had to. They hurried as fast as they could straight across the arena to the main doors. It took Sasha a couple of minutes to get the door raised enough for the two of them to crawl out beneath it. The door creaked, squealed, and groaned as Sasha raised it a couple of feet. Once out, the scrabbled to their feet and staggered into the shadows.

After an hour, Sasha was forced to find someplace for them to hide. Jack had stumbled and fallen twice already and he was hardly able to stand after the second fall. Helping Jack to his feet after the second fall, Sasha noticed the small teen was burning up. He quickly examined the ugly cuts on Jack’s back and saw they were an angry red color and oozing pus. He also noticed there was pus coming from between Jack’s buttocks. He knew they had no choice but to find someplace to hide. Carrying Jack into the trashed shell of what had once been a luncheonette, Sasha tried to hide Jack under the counter. They’d have to hole up there for a while and hope Jack would get well enough to move on. Glancing down, he saw that Jack was unconscious. He just hoped his new friend didn’t die.

By the time Jack opened his eyes again, sunlight was streaming through the shattered front windows of the luncheonette. He felt hot and it was hard to keep his mind from wandering. Trying to sit up, he found he was too week to sit up unaided. Taking a deep breath, he rolled onto his side and got his arms under him, working himself up to a sitting position. Sweat was pouring down his face by the time he had himself propped up against the counter. Looking around for Sasha, he didn’t see the minstrel anywhere. Jack’s heart fell – he was afraid Sasha had abandoned him. He couldn’t blame Sasha – they were both in danger and the more distance between them and Tribe Circus, the better off they were. Sasha couldn’t be expected to hang around and nurse a stranger while they were being hunted.

Jack closed his eyes and decided to gather his strength and try to stand up in a few minutes. He tried to force his mind to stay focused as he tried to decide what to do first. He was still naked, so he’d need to find something to cover himself with. Then, he’d need something to eat or drink. Shakily, Jack worked himself onto his feet while keeping a tight grip on the counter for balance. He was just taking his first wobbly steps when he heard a furtive sound from the back of the luncheonette. Jack knew he should hide again, but doubted he’d be able to get back to his feet again. He looked around for something to use as a weapon.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Sasha’s concerned face appeared from the back of the shop.

“Gotta get home,” Jack gasped.

“You have to get some rest,” Sasha countered. “Here, I managed to get some juice for you. I couldn’t find anything to eat, though.” Sasha brought Jack a small jar of apple juice for babies. “That’s all there was,” Sasha said, apologetically. He reached under his baggy Baja hooded pullover and pulled out a long strip of cloth.

“It’s not much, but at least it will cover you up,” Sasha said. “It used to be part of a set of drapes – someone took the rest.” He looked at the flimsy tan cloth in confusion. “Dunno know why someone would leave this behind when they took the rest. Using a jagged piece of glass, Sasha cut a slit in the middle of the cloth and helped Jack pull the drape over his head like a poncho. Pulling the drawstring from his pullover hood, Sasha gave it to Jack to use as a makeshift belt.

Downing the juice, Jack asked how far they were from the Queen Mary. Sasha figured they were at least three or four miles away, pointing out that Jack was in no shape to even try to make it that far. But, Jack was insistent that they try to make the effort. He claimed it was the only safe place for them. Sasha realized that the only way to prevent Jack from trying to reach the ship was to physically overpower him, and he couldn’t imagine doing that. Sighing, he agreed to help Jack get there.

At the Queen Mary, Bray was beside himself with concern. He had barely stopped the go-cart when Dal was racing down the gangway with the news of Jack’s disappearance. At first, Bray had vented his anger at Dal for letting Jack go off on his own. But, he knew that there had been nothing Dal could have done – they didn’t dare risk leaving the ship unattended. They all knew the risks of life in the post-flu world. Apologizing for his outburst, Bray tried to think of that to do. Like Dal, he had no idea of where to start looking. But, he had to do something – mulling his choices, Bray turned to Dal and asked him to dig up a First Aid kit from the ship’s hospital. Bray went up to the Boat Deck searching for a length of pipe to use as a club if necessary. Dal returned with the First Aid kit and some bottled water.

After loading the cart, Bray fired up the engine and headed in the general direction Jack had gone off. Dal had said Jack had gone off in search of ball bearings, so he figured he’d look for auto, bike, and small engine shops for signs of Jack.

Sasha was practically carrying Jack after leaving the luncheonette. The minstrel could feel how hot and dry Jack’s skin was and began worrying that Jack might die before they could even reach the ship. Less and less of what Jack said made sense – he seemed to keep up a constant incoherent mumbling. If the two of them were in good shape, the trip to the Queen Mary might take a couple of hours – taking detours around streets with obvious Tribe and gang activity, hiding out for brief periods of time. But with Jack in such poor shape, they would be lucky to make the Queen Mary by nightfall – if then.

They had covered about two blocks when Jack’s head jerked up. He seemed to be sniffing the air, twisting his head from side to side. He grew agitated and started babbling. Sasha tried to reassure the sick teen that everything was alright. Then, he heard it – a sound like a lawnmower getting nearer. The louder the sound got, the more excited Jack grew. Sasha wasn’t sure, but he thought they might be in Loco Tribe territory, and figured any sound had to be associated with that Tribe and that couldn’t be good. As bad as Tribe Circus was, the Locos were worse. He tried to pull Jack to a hiding place, but Jack seemed to find his last reserves of strength and broke away, stumbling into the street waving his arms.

He turned to glance at Sasha, a weak smile on his face and said one word, “Bray.”

Sasha didn’t know what Bray was – whether it was someone’s name or whether Jack wanted him to bray like a donkey to attract attention. But, Jack seemed happy to hear the sound of the motor. Suddenly a go-cart zipped through the intersection. For a moment Sasha thought it was gone, then he heard the sound of the motor grow louder as the cart came back at them. Jack sagged to his knees and rolled over onto his side. Part of Sasha’s mind told him to run for cover, but he couldn’t leave Jack alone. Without thinking about what he was doing, Sasha dashed over to where Jack was and stood over him protectively.

The go-cart raced towards them and then skidded to a stop. A tall, muscular teen with flowing chestnut hair jumped from the cart and dashed over to Jack, calling his name, concern evident in his voice.

Sasha stepped to the side, “He’s hurt pretty bad and running a high fever.”

“What happened?” Bray leapt to his feet and grabbed Sasha’s pullover in his fists.

“It wasn’t me!” Sasha protested, fearful of the look in the stranger’s face.

“bray … sasha … friend,” Jack croaked, pointing from one to the other.

Reluctantly Bray released Sasha and turned his attention to Jack. The rag he was wearing was soaked through with blood in criss cross patterns back and front. Rapidly, Sasha told Bray what he could, about the two of them being prisoners of Tribe Circus and how Jack was tortured because he wouldn’t do the things they wanted of him. Sasha didn’t know why, but he omitted how Jack bought precious time with Bruno after Sasha had been knocked senseless for a few moments. Bray scooped Jack up in his arms and tilted his head towards the cart.

“Look, you get in first,” Bray said. “You’ll have to hold Jack in your lap.” Sasha hesitated, then realized he was probably safer with this Bray than he was on the streets right now. Once Jack was safely in Sasha’s arms, Bray didn’t waste any time getting the go-cart started and headed away from the area.

Jack opened his eyes and was almost blinded by the bright white surroundings. He wondered briefly if this is what it was like to be dead. Then, the pain returned. Groaning, Jack knew he couldn’t be dead – no one could hurt this bad if they were dead.

“Hey, you’re awake. I’ll get the others.” At first, Jack had no idea who it was talking to him. The stranger returned and smiled down at him. Jack examined the face – there was something familiar about it. Those big brown, puppy dog eyes were so familiar. Then it struck him. Sasha. Jack didn’t recognize him because he wasn’t wearing his jester’s hat. Sasha had a mop of honey colored hair that was constantly falling into his eyes.

“Sasha.”

“That’s me,” Sasha smiled back. “You had us scared – you’ve been out for four days now. Man, that friend of yours, Bray, he’s something else.” Sasha chuckled. “He carried you in his arms all the way up the gangway to the hospital here. Then, he and Dal – by the way, he’s pretty cool, too – got you cleaned up. Then, Bray raced away and came back a couple hours later with this Amber babe. She got an IV line in you and got you on antibiotics.”

Pretty soon, the ship’s hospital was filled with everyone from the SuperCenter, cheering Jack’s recovery and crowding around. When Jack told them that Sasha was the real hero, they turned their attention to him. The young jester blushed with all the attention. Bray explained that they had moved their schedule up and brought everyone to the ship. They were still in the process of moving the goods from the SuperCenter. Jack didn’t know how long everyone stayed in the room. Despite his best efforts, he was soon drifting off to sleep again.

Bray stayed behind after Amber shooed everyone else from the room. He sat by Jack’s side, holding his hand and stroking his face. When he had first gotten a good look at Jack’s injuries, he was afraid the small teen would surely die. He remembered how heavy his heart felt racing back to the ship with Amber at his side. She was the only one, besides Jack, who knew how to start an IV line. Since then, he had been at Jack’s side almost the entire time – leaving only long enough to grab a shower or snatch a little sleep. During those times, he was spelled by Amber and Sasha.

Bray pressed Jack’s small, smooth hand against his own cheek. Sasha had told him how Jack had been raped and abused by Top Hat. Bray had an idea that Sasha was holding something back, but decided not to press that point. Running his fingers down Jack’s arm, Bray was surprised at how smooth and hairless it was. Turning his head, Bray kissed each of Jack’s fingers and then kissed the back of his hand. Right now, there was nothing more Bray wanted than to hold Jack in his arms and make him feel secure again. Leaning close, Bray brushed the hair off Jack’s forehead and kissed him tenderly. He took the opportunity to study Jack’s face.

Jack’s skin was so smooth and soft. For the first time, Bray noticed that Jack had incredibly long, thick eyelashes that gave him the look of a delicate porcelain doll. Bray wondered how he could have missed noticing those eyelashes before. Of course, he’d never really stared at Jack while he was sleeping before. When awake, the thing Bray noticed most were Jack’s deep blue eyes. Those eyes that made Bray’s heart beat a little faster each time he looked into them. Sitting back up, Bray lifted Jack’s hand in his own again and held it close to his cheek.

There was a gentle scrape of a shoe on the deck behind him. Turning quickly, Bray found Sasha regarding him with those gentle, big brown eyes. He smiled at Bray, “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“No, no – I was … uh, just sitting with Jack,” Bray stammered. “I didn’t want him to be alone in case he woke up and needed something.” For the first time, Bray realized his face was wet. He hadn’t realized he’d been crying softly as he held Jack.

“Yeah … I was thinking the same thing,” Sasha said softly. “I… uh, wanted to thank you, too – y’know, for saving me back there and letting me stay here and all.” Sasha moved up behind Bray and stared fondly down at Jack. “He was pretty incredible the way he behaved back there with Tribe Circus. But, I had no idea he was the one who came up with a way to make electricity and get water running again. Man, it’s so great to be able to take a shower again.”

“He is pretty special,” Bray admitted. “He saved my life the first time we met.”

“I can see why you’re in love with him,” Sasha noticed Bray stiffen. “Hey, it’s okay, dude. Really it is. I’m not making a judgement or anything.” He reached over and tenderly stroked Jack’s hair. “He’s an easy guy to have special feelings for … he deserves to have someone like you who cares for him.”

“I think you’ve got the wrong idea …” Bray protested.

“Hey, I was there when you found us, remember?” Sasha interrupted. “I saw your reaction when you saw the little guy sprawled in the street. You can’t fool me.” He smiled gently. “Look, I’m a minstrel … traveling jester … court fool … so I get to tell the truth when everyone else is afraid to or just doesn’t want to. Those are the rules of the job. The way I see it, there’s nothing wrong with having a pure love for someone else.”

Bray opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, but couldn’t think of anything to say. Sasha noticed Bray had a hunted look on his face.

“Hey, don’t sweat it,” he whispered, coming around to Bray’s side and kneeling down. “Did you ever think that maybe there could be something good in this flu thing?”

“That’s stupid,” Bray snapped.

“It’s all on how you look at it,” Sasha shrugged. “It’s a whole New World out there – granted, not a pretty nice or safe one right now. But, that’s gotta change.”

“You think so?” Bray asked, sourly.

“I know so,” Sasha said, a sad smile on his lips. “If things don’t change for the better, then there’s no future for any of us.” He shrugged again. “And, we get to choose what this New World is going to be like. We can carry over the old prejudices and stupid hates, or we can set a new example. I think it’d be better to set a new example – who says it’s wrong for two guys or even two babes to be in love with each other? Love has got to be right – caring for someone, being good to them, and making them feel wanted and special. Hell, dude, that can’t be wrong. Back before the flu, we just didn’t seem to understand that. We have a chance to make a clean start.” Sasha reached out and lightly stroked Bray’s cheek. “It’s up to you, dude. It’s up to you.”

Sasha got up and started for the door. “What if Jack doesn’t feel the same way?” Bray asked, the fear of rejection clear in his voice.

“I’m willing to bet he does,” Sasha said. “All he talked about when he was delirious was you. He was so sure Bray would come rescue us.” He smiled broadly. “Give him a chance – the two of you at least deserve that much.” The door closed behind the minstrel, leaving Bray alone with his thoughts for the night.

The next day Jack was anxious to get out of bed and get something to eat – something besides porridge and clear broth, he complained when Selene pointed out he was eating regularly. He groaned when Amber insisted he have breakfast of oatmeal and juice in the infirmary and then, they’d see if he was strong enough to join everyone else in the main dining room for lunch. Amber had her doubts Jack was up to getting up from bed yet, but he became so insistent that against her better judgement she relented.

Jack received a standing ovation when Bray carried him into the main dining room, making him blush violently. He was still too weak to walk far and Amber had insisted that Bray carry him, hoping Jack would be too embarrassed to be carried and stay in bed. She hadn’t counted on how desperate he was to be out of the bed and start doing things again. She had to admit, though, that she was glad to see him showing a desire to be up and about again. He had lost quite a bit of weight from the fever, and small as he was, he really couldn’t afford the weight loss. Dark circled shadowed his blue eyes, giving him a hunted and haggard look. She had sent the word up to the dining room that Jack would be there for lunch and the others had decided that Jack’s leaving the infirmary and rejoining their ranks was a cause for celebration.

Selene had hunted out the linen for the captain’s table, while Dal made a miniature windmill as the centerpiece of the table. Heather surprised everyone by raiding the copious stores of flour and baking several loaves of bread and a large sheet cake – something none of them had had in months. The kids, Chloe, Patsy, Jonah, Paul, Jordy and Kit, spent the morning coloring Welcome Back cards for Jack. Not to be outdone, Peter amazed everyone with his skills on the piano while Sasha practiced some of his magic tricks.

When Bray carried Jack into the dining room, everyone erupted in cheers and applause, laughing when Jack buried his face against Bray’s shoulder in embarrassment – his face turning several different shades of red. Peter pounded out a rousing march, making Jack turn an additional three different deeper shades of red. Once jack was seated in the Captain’s chair, Sasha produced a bottle of champagne and called for a toast.

“When we were prisoners together, I quickly learned Jack was a pretty extraordinary person,” Sasha said, his glass raised high. “Then, he masterminded our escape and that made me think he was a genius. But, being here and seeing the inventions he’s designed has convinced me he’s more than a genius. He’s made a way to give the survivors electricity again – he’s a modern Prometheus.” Sasha turned to face Jack, his big, brown eyes shining. “I give you Jack – the modern Prometheus, the bringer of the modern fire – electricity.”

Jack didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or hide under the table. He’d never in his life been the center of such attention. Before the flu, he was just the class nerd – the brainy little guy who used to get beat up by the jocks on a regular basis. He felt like the same person and yet, all these people – his friends – were acting like he was something special. It was a good feeling.

Climbing stiffly to his feet, Jack smiled around the table at his friends, “Thanks … “ he looked around, totally at a loss for words. “I don’t know what to say – except, nothing I’ve done would have been possible if I didn’t have such great friends to help. When I was captured by Tribe Circus, all I could think about was how much I missed all of you.” Jack looked down suddenly, tears streaming down his face. Wiping his eyes with the heel of his hand, Jack looked up again and lifted his glass. “I guess what I’m trying to say is – here’s to all of us.”

Everyone drained their glasses, then Amber stood, “I know I’m going to be sorry I suggested this, but,” she sighed and shook her head. “In the old days, the tradition was to break the glasses after a toast so no other toast could be made from the same glass and break the magic of the first toast. So – oh hell, I can’t believe I’m doing this …” Amber jerked her hand back and flung her glass against the wall as hard as she could. For a moment everyone was stunned by her actions – Amber was the one always stressing that they needed to not make a mess and conserve everything they could. She looked around at the shocked group, “Well – what’s everyone waiting for?” A moment later every glass went sailing across the room to shatter against the wall amid cheers and raucous laughter.

Jonah suddenly popped up, waving for attention as he frantically signed – his hands almost a blur. His sister Patsy had to make him slow down as she translated “Everyone else in the city is a Tribe. So, what about us? Why aren’t we a Tribe, too? Aren’t we as good as them?”

Patsy’s face clouded, “You know, he’s right. Why aren’t we a Tribe?”

“I think we are,” Jack said after a stunned silence. “We just never got around to formalizing it.”

“Jonah’s right, and so is Jack,” Bray said. “We should be a Tribe and we are. We just need a name.” He looked brightly around the table. “So what do we call ourselves?”

The table exploded in suggestions – some, like the Queen Marys or just the Queens, were quickly dismissed. Everyone seemed to have a favorite idea. Jack remained silent, chewing his lip as if in deep thought.

“I think,” Jack began slowly, “that since it was Jonah’s idea, he should be the one to name the Tribe.”

One look at the look of pride on Jonah’s face was enough to make everyone accept the idea. Being deaf, Jonah was often overlooked simply because he couldn’t raise his voice over other people’s. He was used to it and had developed a lackadaisical attitude to the situation. If something was really important, he had ways of making himself known – the rest of the time, he just found it easier to go with the flow. Now, every eye on the ship was turned in his direction. He thought hard and then suddenly brightened. His hands began flashing rapidly as he gave his name suggestion and his reasons.

“We should be the Shiprats,” Patsy translated. “Because we live on a ship and rats sometimes live on ships, too. And,” he continued through his sister, “rats are really smart, and we’re smart. And rats are good at surviving things,” Jonah went on. “And we’re good at surviving.” He paused and continued, slightly embarrassed, “And, rats are cute and cuddly.”

“Shiprats?” Selene asked.

“Shiprats,” Jack said, as if tasting the word. Head cocked to one side, Jack repeated the word and suddenly smiled, “Shiprats – I like it.”

Slowly, heads began to nod – the name did fit, and besides, as Amber pointed out, it showed they didn’t take themselves too seriously. A show of hands and the name was officially adopted as a beaming Jonah looked on. Selene couldn’t remember ever seeing him so happy.

The lunch celebration of Jack’s return, suddenly became a much bigger celebration that lasted well into the night. Everyone pitched in to clean up the lunch mess and help create an even bigger mess for dinner, but no one seemed to care. Their moods were too upbeat to worry about small things like cleaning up the kitchen. Jack and Dal huddled over a large sketch book working on plans, while the girls huddled together and made their own plans. From time to time, they’d glance in Jack’s direction and grin. Finally, they went over and announced that Jack needed to come with them.

Selene produced an office chair on casters from the kitchen office and helped Jack into it. He was barely seated when Selene and Heather began pushing him out of the dining room. After several twists and turns through the ship corridors, they arrived at the beauty salon where Patsy was waiting with Jonah.

“What’s up?” Jack asked, glancing around.

“Well, there’s no getting around the fact that both you and Jonah are long overdue for a haircut,” Heather said. “You two are downright shaggy.”

“Hey,” Jack protested, “we’re no worse than the others.”

“That’s true,” Amber agreed. “But, since you two are the men of the day, you have the honor of getting personalized makeovers.”

Jack was dubious, but gave in without complaining. He did need a haircut – he’d never liked it when his hair got long – it tended to curl in different directions and resist any efforts to stay combed. Jack and Jonah discovered that when the girls said makeovers, they meant the works. As he was leaned back over the shampoo sink getting shampooed by Heather, Selene had his fingers soaking in preparation of a manicure. To his side, Jonah was getting the same treatment. As soon as the shampoo was finished, his head was wrapped turban style in a towel moments before Selene began covering his face with a mud mask.

At first, Jack wanted to protest and leave the chair. But, he quickly found himself enjoying the special treatment. By the time the mud mask was washed away, his face toned and moisturized, Jack found he was totally relaxed. He glanced over at Jonah as Heather snipped away at his shaggy hair. Selene was busy painstakingly cutting away at the mop on his head, pausing only to ask if Jack liked his hair covering his ears, or off of his ears. Hearing his preference, Selene continued with her work and before he knew it, Jack was staring at a whole new person in the mirror. He had to admit, Selene had given him the best haircut he’d ever had in his life. He was about to climb out of the chair when Selene announced she wasn’t finished with him yet.

Spinning him away from the mirror, Selene took a bowl from Amber and began applying a cold, goop all over his hair and working it in to the roots. A strong odor of ammonia assaulted Jack’s nose, bringing tears to his eyes. His protests were blithely ignored as the girls assured him that everything was going to plan. Glancing over to the other chair, Jack saw that Jonah was being subjected to the same treatment. However, Jonah seemed to be enjoying himself. Shrugging, Jack decided his only option was to relax and go along with the game plan. Before long, his scalp began to tingle as the bleach did its work. Periodically, Selene or Heather checked the progress, each time observing that “just a few more minutes now” and he’d be done. Jack nearly cheered with joy when his chair was reclined and the bleach was washed from his hair.

Selene had barely finished drying his hair when she began working more goop through it. Jack figured the first bleaching hadn’t worked one-hundred percent and he needed another session. He tried to glance over at Jonah, but he had been moved to another station. As usual when Jack became nervous, he stuttered and stammered as he tried to joke with the girls. He didn’t have to wait nearly as long before he once again found his head in the shampoo sink and the water cascading over his scalp. The water wasn’t frigid cold, but Jack decided that one way or another he was going to find a way to provide the ship with hot water.

When his hair was finally dried, moussed, and styled, Amber stepped up and began drawing on Jack’s face. Starting between his eyebrows, Amber worked her way upwards in a straight line towards his hairline. Jack held as still as he could as Amber decorated his face, even though he felt a tremble of excitement running through him. In the post-flu world, every Tribe was characterized by face painting – the symbols and colors were clear indications to strangers of Tribe unity and loyalty. It marked the wearer as a member of a tight-knit group deserving of at least token respect. Tweaking his nose playfully, Amber finished her work and spun the chair to face the mirror at last.

Jack’s mouth dropped open in wonder. He couldn’t believe the reflection staring back at him was his own. He had been expecting to see himself with blond or even white hair – but the second round of goop turned out to be hair dye rather than bleach. Staring back at him from the mirror was a stranger with bright, manic red hair brushed stylishly up off his forehead and straight back, with the barest hint of a casual part. The pattern Amber had drawn on his forehead looked like an electronic power meter – precise rectangles of red, yellow and green going from a point between his eyes up to just below his hairline. All three girls stood behind Jack, staring at his reflection nervously.

‘Well?” Selene finally asked, breaking the silence.

“I – I, ah … WOW!” Jack said in wonder. “I can’t believe that’s me! It’s fantastic.”

“Thank goodness,” Selene sighed. “The idea for the color came when Sasha called you the modern Prometheus – the bringer of fire.”

“And, the Tribe markings are supposed to be like a power meter,” Amber added. “It’s kind of like your personal symbol – we haven’t come up with a Tribe symbol or colors yet. So, you really like it?”

“Like it?” Jack’s face was split in a wide, ecstatic grin. “I love it – it’s the first time in my life a haircut made me look cool and not like some geek.” Turning in the chair, Jack threw his weak arms around Heather, the one closest to him, and gave her a huge hug. He hugged and kissed each girl in turn before asking about Jonah.

Grinning, Patsy brought her brother from one of the private cubicles. Like Jack, Jonah was grinning from ear to ear. No one needed to know sign language to understand his joy. The look on his face said it all. Jonah’s hair had been cropped short, combed forward and pushed up at the forehead in a bumper, and dyed an electric blue. Patsy explained that blue was Jonah’s favorite color – three bright red lines had been drawn diagonally across his right cheek.

Jack and Jonah’s appearance was greeted by the rest of the Tribe with general approval and praise – something Jack had never experienced before. His experience with haircuts or fashion was that a fresh haircut was just another excuse for the jocks to tease and taunt him. Suddenly, he was the center of approving attention and enjoying every minute of it.

Bray surprised everyone by announcing a picnic on the Boat Deck – he had doctored a couple of industrial tins of beef chili with brown sugar and spices he found in the kitchen to create a kind of Sloppy Joe mix while Sasha had used canned potatoes to make potato salad. There wasn’t much variety, Bray noted, but they had plenty of what they did have. In the end, the limited variety of foods didn’t matter at all – for the first time since they had all come together, they weren’t worried about the future, their safety, or anything at all. Dal produced a boom box from the things already brought over from the SuperCenter and quickly had music filling the air.

The sun had long been down when Jack wandered over to the rail. The short walk tired him, but he was glad not to be carried – it wouldn’t be long before he regained his strength. And then, he had plans to make the old liner even more hospitable for the new Tribe. He leaned heavily on the rail and stared at the reflection of the stars on the water.

“Feeling okay?” Bray asked, joining him at the rail.

“Huh?” Jack pulled himself back from his reverie. “Oh, yeah – a little weak, but feeling a whole lot better than okay, to tell the truth.”

“Good,” Bray nodded. “You looked lost in thought.”

Jack shook his head and smiled at Bray, “Not really. I was just admiring the stars and not really thinking about much at all, to tell the truth.” Jack stared up at the sky. “It’s the first time I really just looked at the stars without trying to identify them, or wonder which is a planet and which is a star – or analyze them in any way.” He sighed. “My dad was an aeronautics engineer and my mom was an astronomer. Between them, they taught me the names of all the major stars you can see with a naked eye. They made them interesting and sometimes even exciting, but they never made the stars magical.”

As he talked, Jack’s voice became softer and softer, filled with wonder almost as if he were in a church. Bray leaning closer to hear what Jack was saying found himself staring at Jack’s profile. For the first time, he noticed they were standing hip to hip, in physical contact with each other. Studying Jack’s profile, he found himself wishing he could just lean down and nibble on Jack’s ear or kiss the curve of his neck. He thought back to what Sasha had said – the minstrel was right, it shouldn’t matter who loved who. He sighed.

“Huh?” Jack turned, thinking Bray had said something and found himself nose to nose with the other teen. Suddenly, Bray leaned forward and kissed Jack right on the mouth. Startled, Jack didn’t know what to do at first but the impulse to pull away never entered his mind. Without thinking, Jack returned the kiss, parting his lips instinctively.

Bray had never planned to kiss Jack – and certainly not right there on the deck with the rest of the Tribe all over the place. But, finding himself staring into Jack’s innocent face, the impulse to kiss him was overpowering. Before he realized what he was doing, Bray found his lips pressed tightly to Jack’s. He felt Jack stiffen and was about to break away when something remarkable happened – Jack leaned against Bray, his lips opening. Suddenly, Bray didn’t give a damn what anyone thought – he opened his lips, gently thrusting his tongue toward Jack’s. To his surprise and relief, his advance was greeted with acceptance. Jack tenderly nibbled Bray’s tongue, alternating sucking on it and nibbling it.

Sasha was the first to notice the two locked in a passionate embrace – he grinned happily for them and nudged Amber, tilting his head in their direction. Amber found herself grinning as well. There was no doubt Bray was a hunk – with his All-American good looks, and she was honest enough to admit she had hoped for a chance with him. But, almost from the beginning she had noticed the longing looks he sent in Jack’s direction. She had even tried to be jealous of Jack – but the little inventor was just so unabashedly unaware of the reaction he was causing in Bray, she couldn’t manage any jealousy for him. Amber figured Jack had no idea he was probably gay, or that Bray had any kind of feelings for him at all. In fact, she doubted Jack would have any kind of sexual feelings about anyone until someone made the first advance on him. She was glad Bray made the first move – the two of them would be good for each other. Quietly, she and Sasha ushered the others off the Boat Deck to leave the two lovers alone with the starlight.

For his part, Jack was totally oblivious to anything except the feel of Bray’s body pressing tight against his and Bray’s tongue wrestling with his own. His whole body was tingling and trembling like electricity was coursing through it. Bray’s embrace was sensually exciting and comforting at the same time. The only thing Jack wanted was to stay in Bray’s strong arms.

Eventually, the need to breathe forced the two to break their kiss. Neither looked around – for the moment, nothing else existed in their world. Grinning foolishly, they closed on each other and rested their foreheads together, reveling in the warmth of the other’s body.

Leaning in for his second kiss, Jack decided that nothing would ever make him feel in danger again. He didn’t know how quickly he would be proved wrong.

To be continued ….