The Tribes -- Chapter 2

Tribes, Chapter 2

The following morning, as Bray was discussing his ideas for moving into a mall, The Leader was inspecting his new following. Freckle Face, now renamed Alpha, had been a real surprise and remarkable asset to The Brotherhood of the Phoenix, the name The Leader selected for his Tribe. Alpha had a latent sadistic streak that blossomed under The Leader’s free reign. Alpha had been instrumental in bringing most of The Taggers into the fold of the Tribe. Of course, the sight of Rat Face and their former leader had been influential in the gang’s decision to follow The Leader.

The Leader smiled as he remembered that first day when he had confronted the gang with their former leader and his lieutenant. He and Alpha had arrived at the Taggers headquarters on an old farm tractor, pulling a flatbed trailer. The former chiefs of the Taggers were dumped unceremoniously into the middle of the street. Their heads had been shaved roughly – dried blood from the nicks and cuts crusted on their scalps. The fifteen gangers had been suitably shocked at seeing their naked bodies on display, their balls hanging around their necks in plastic bags. Alpha stood over the battered bodies of his former gang chiefs and looked over his fellow gang members. Dressed in a robe of his own, his long hair cropped short, Alpha announced that Taggers who willingly joined The Brotherhood of the Phoenix would be rewarded. He described plates full of food at every meal and the safety of the Brotherhood. Smiling slyly, he added that those who joined The Brotherhood could expect to use Rat Face sexually whenever they chose. Those who refused, he said direly, could expect the same fate as their former leaders.

The Leader kept his face impassive as he listened to Alpha addressing his former mates. He admired Alpha’s impromptu addition of using Rat Face as a sexual plaything for the new Tribe. That was pure inspiration. It was too bad Spike, the old leader of the gang, wouldn’t suffer the same long-term humiliation. Even if The Leader didn’t kill Spike outright, the former Taggers leader was probably going to die. His broken elbow was clearly bleeding internally and his dislocated knee had swollen to twice its normal size. Even if he somehow managed to survive, Spike was going to be a burden. He was sure to remain a cripple for the rest of his life and need constant care. It was better for the new Tribe if Spike wasn’t around.

The Leader wasn’t surprised when thirteen of the Taggers bowed on Alpha’s command and pledged their allegiance to The Leader and The Brotherhood of the Phoenix. One Tagger stood defiant, cursing Alpha for betraying Spike and the gang. The other one was clearly torn in what he should do – he shifted from foot to foot, trying to make up his mind.

“Take them,” The Leader said softly, stepping up next to Alpha.

Alpha didn’t hesitate to give the order to the thirteen new Tribe members – he barked the order to subdue and bind the two holdouts. The new members fell on their former gang mates with enthusiasm. With the odds so stacked against them, the scuffle was brief and the two holdouts found themselves with bloody mouths and noses as their hands were roughly pulled behind them and tied tightly.

Back at the monastery, The Leader ordered Alpha to get robes and the rest of the equipment and bring them out to the courtyard. Turning to the thirteen new members, The Leader launched into a speech extolling the virtues of The Brotherhood – explaining that like the mythical phoenix, they were going to be the ones to bring a new society out of the ashes of the old one. The Leader’s eyes shone with excitement as he described their mission of bringing order and discipline to the chaos that now existed. They would be gods on earth, he assured them. As the chosen members of The Brotherhood, all other survivors would eventually be forced to serve them and their needs.

The thirteen new Tribe members quickly became entranced by the impassioned words of The Leader. They could almost see the New World just beyond the horizon – a world that served them as the elect of the Brotherhood. Those who refused to join their number, The Leader said, were unworthy of the full benefits of the Brotherhood. They would be the dishonored servants of the elect – castrated and never able to pass their unworthy seed along to new generations.

The Leader’s hypnotic words had the desired effect on the thirteen former Taggers. The novelty of living a chaotic life with no rules nor direction was beginning to wear thin. They missed having regular meals and something to do on a regular basis. Alpha returned with the robe and a wooden open top tool chest and stood silently one step behind The Leader.

One by one The Leader had the gangers approach and strip naked right there in the courtyard. They were ordered to drop their clothes to one side as The Leader produced a large pair of scissors and began snipping off their hair. The shorn locks were dropped on the top of their discarded clothes. Once The Leader had cropped their long tresses to stubble, Alpha shaved them bald before giving each new member a robe, telling them to remain naked until the received further orders. It took nearly two hours before The Leader and Alpha were finished rendering each of the new members totally bald. The thirteen stood in a loose semicircle, the folded robes in their arms. The Leader spoke briefly to Alpha, who nodded and disappeared into the workshop. He returned minutes later with a five gallon can of kerosene which he dumped on the pile of discarded clothes and shorn hair. The Leader struck a match and threw it onto the pile.

“Look into the fire,” The Leader called, turning to the new Tribe members. “That is the cleansing fire of the Phoenix – your new Tribe! Your old, disorganized, lives with no future are going up in flames.” Unconsciously, all thirteen new members moved closer to the fire. “You have been divested of all the symbols of your old life – your clothes, your hair, and now, before you are worthy of donning your new robes, one last thing remains.” The Leader pointed to the pump at the back of the courtyard. “Each of you needs to cleanse his face of the gang paint – only then can you put on your new robes and be true Neophytes of the Phoenix.”

The thirteen broke ranks, dashing towards the pump in an effort to be the first to wash away the last of the symbols of their old lives. A couple even leapt high through the flames of the bonfire in their enthusiasm to reach the pump ahead of the others. The Leader nodded in satisfaction – this was a good start. The Neophytes would serve him well and help him to recruit even more followers.

Turning away from the sight of his new followers pushing and shoving each other away from the water as they scrubbed the paint from their faces, The Leader frowned at the prisoners. An idea began to form in his mind and he called Alpha over.

“Take those three into the kitchens, get a huge meal laid out,” The Leader ordered. “Open a couple cans of ham – I want the Neophytes to get their bellies full. Some of the canned ravioli would be good, too, and fruit for dessert. Those three will make good servants for the Brotherhood. Those who don’t join willingly will be forced to serve the Chosen.”

“Excellent, Leader,” Alpha smiled. He paused. “What about – you know, cutting the two new ones?”

The Leader smiled, “You like the idea of castrating other guys, don’t you?” Alpha looked down, embarrassed. “You can do them tomorrow. Announce it at dinner tonight, ask for volunteers to help you prepare them." Alpha started to leave when The Leader stopped him and indicated the prisoner who had almost joined the others earlier. “The one who hesitated – what’s his name?”

“That’s Gull – he’s pretty new to the Taggers,” Alpha answered. “The other one is Hawk – they’re cousins.”

“That explains the hesitation,” The Leader smiled. “We’ll give Gull another chance to change his mind tomorrow – let’s see if he feels quite as loyal once he actually sees what happens to his cousin.”

The following afternoon, the thirteen Neophytes in their new robes were gathered in the pebbled courtyard. Alpha had had four of them haul a heavy butcher’s block table from the kitchen. The table was six feet long and perfect for what Alpha had in mind. The cousins were dragged into the courtyard – both naked and shaved from head to toe. Gull was already crying and begging, snot running from his nose in a steady stream as he appealed to his former gangmates to show mercy. Hawk, though he was obviously scared, put up a brave front as he was pulled across the courtyard to the table. Eager hands of the Neophytes pulled Hawk onto the table, holding him in place as he was tied spread-eagle to the heavy table, his legs spread wide. When one of the Neophytes taped his flaccid penis to his belly, Hawk broke.

“You can’t let them do this,” Hawk screamed. “We outnumber them – take them down and cut me loose.”

“Shut up!” One of the Neophytes hissed, slapping Hawk across the face. “Since we came here yesterday, we’ve already had three meals. When was the last time you and Spike ever provided that? We had real beds to sleep in last night – not some cold floor.” He spat in Hawk’s face. “You didn’t have the balls to make things right for us, you’re getting what you deserve.”

“YOU!” The Leader bellowed, a finger jabbing in the direction of the Neophyte who had spat in Hawk’s face. “What is your name?”

“J-Jonah, Leader,” the Neophyte stammered.

“Come here,” The Leader said, his finger dropping to indicate a spot directly in front of him. Jonah nervously hurried to the spot indicated by The Leader. He instinctively dropped to one knee, his head bowed.

The Leader looked slowly from one face of the group to another, his left hand on Jonah’s bald head and his right one raised as if giving a benediction, “Alpha is my strong right hand and from this moment on, Jonah will be known as Beta, my loyal left hand. In the Brotherhood, loyalty has rewards – tangible rewards, and each of you has the ability to reap those rewards.” The Leader helped the newly christened Beta to his feet, hugging him in welcome. “Go help Alpha with his work, have him teach you as I taught him.”

Both Alpha and Beta were beaming from the honors just bestowed on them by The Leader. He had made it clear to the others that the two of them were important people in this new Tribe. His message had been clear to all – the rewards bestowed by The Leader were immediate and conferred respect and power to the recipients. Alpha had found some picture wire in the back of a drawer in the workshop and showed Beta how to make a tight noose around the top of Hawk’s scrotum, pulling it as tight as possible before making several wraps to tie the ball sac off. Alpha had Beta make the second noose lower down on Hawk’s scrotum, nodding as Beta did everything smoothly and calmly.

Hawk, on the other hand, was anything but calm. He did his best to twist and pull against his bonds, spittle flecking his lips as he made animalistic, grunting sounds. Raising his head, Hawk saw Alpha hold an axe and large mallet up for everyone to see.

“This can’t be happening!” Hawk screeched, his voice reaching a girlish pitch. Alpha smiled down sadistically as he set the axe in place. He was just about to hand Beta the mallet and give him the honor of striking the blow that would sever Hawk’s balls when Gull managed to break away from his captors.

“I can’t go through that, Henry,” Gull screamed, using Hawk’s real name. Gull, threw himself at The Leader’s feet, sobbing and blubbering. “Please, oh please, Leader – I was wrong, yesterday! I was stupid, pleasepleaseplease forgive me. Let me have a second chance.”

Alpha and Beta looked to The Leader, unsure of what to do. He glanced pointedly at the raised mallet in Beta’s hand and then down at the sharp axe resting against Hawk’s scrotum. He dipped his head sharply. Without a second’s hesitation, Beta brought the mallet down as hard as he could against the back of the axe. A dull thud sounded across the courtyard, immediately followed by an even higher-pitched scream from Hawk. The Leader didn’t know a human could make a sound that high. He looked down at Gull, who was still sobbing uncontrollably.

“Release his hands,” The Leader said softly to the Neophyte closest to him. As soon as Gull’s hands were released, he tried to grab The Leader’s hands and rain kisses down on them. The Leader pulled his hands away as he helped Gull to his feet, turning him to face the other Neophytes. “Before you stands someone who made a terrible mistake yesterday. Now, he is sorry for his mistake and wants to be redeemed.” He looked around, the Neophytes were slowly nodding their heads in agreement. “That seems to make sense, of course. But, how do we know he has truly repented his error? How do we know he isn’t just trying to escape the punishment that awaits all who reject The Brotherhood?”

The head nodding of the Neophytes stopped suddenly. The Leader’s questions made sense – how were they to know Gull was sincere? Someone shouted out that he should be castrated before being allowed to join their numbers. Gull started trembling violently again.

“No, no it’s not possible for someone who’s been castrated to join the ranks of the Chosen,” The Leader said. “Castration is the mark of a slave. No, Gull can’t be castrated – but, he must be punished.” He glanced over to the table and saw with satisfaction that Alpha had continued working and had already cauterized Hawk’s wound. He gestured for Alpha to get Hawk off the table before turning back to the Neophytes. “And Gull shall be punished as a reminder to him and to all Brothers – redemption comes at a cost.” The Leader took Gull by the shoulders from behind and shoved him towards the table. “Alpha, the little finger on each of Gull’s hands --- take them off.”

Gull once again began blubbering and trying to jerk away from the table. Beta moved quickly, grabbing the ganger by the forearm and forcing his hand flat on the table. Alpha abruptly set the sharp axe blade over the little finger of Gull’s right hand. He swung the mallet as hard as he could, bringing it down with a resounding thunk. The force of the blow sent the blade through the finger, bone and all, cleanly. Blood fountained across the top of the table from the stump of Gull’s finger. Gull opened his mouth in a silent scream, his chest heaving and still no sound came out. He swayed from side to side as Beta brought up his left hand and positioned it flat on the table for Alpha. Alpha didn’t waste any time getting the blade in place and swinging the mallet a second time. As soon as he was finished with the amputations, Alpha got the propane torch going and began heating the old-fashioned soldering iron. As soon as the iron was

glowing white hot, he placed it against the first stump with a crackling sizzle. The bleeding stanched, Alpha heated the iron again and cauterized the second stump.

The Leader sent Beta to the kitchen to bring a First Aid kit so Gull’s wounds could be bandaged. A high-pitched keening filled the air as sound finally began coming from Gull’s mouth. He sobbed like a little child, sucking in great lungfuls of air. The Leader leaned down and began stroking the teen’s smooth head, wiping away his tears and whispering soothingly to him. Incredibly, Gull’s sobs quieted as he buried his face in The Leader’s robes. The Leader looked around to the Neophytes.

“Gull has been punished and he is now fully redeemed,” he said, looking from face to face. “He is now our Brother and is to be treated with the same respect as all other Brothers. Anyone who treats him differently will find himself strapped to this table and castrated.”

That had been the beginning so many months ago with only fifteen members in his new Tribe, and two slaves – Spike had died about a week after the induction of the Neophytes. The slaves had been a good idea, The Leader thought. The slaves provided a work force for menial tasks, leaving the members of the Tribe with time to dedicate to combat training and tactics. Besides learning to do the cooking, washing, and even sewing the new robes, the slaves had finally learned their roles as sexual relief for the Tribe. Of course, it had taken a lot of time and punishment to teach them to accept their new lot in life.

Walking along the next rank of the Tribe, The Leader remembered the first time Rat Face had been forced to his knees to suck a Neophyte’s cock. The whole event had almost turned into a disaster – especially for the Neophyte named Harvey.

Rat Face had been forced to his knees, his arms tied behind his back. Harvey who had done particularly well in hand-to-hand combat training that day was to be rewarded with a blow job. Stripping out of his robes, Harvey displayed a seven inch circumcised erection. Grinning wildly, Harvey had just started rubbing his erection along Rat Face’s cheek when the slave lunged forward, his teeth snapping savagely. Only Harvey’s finely honed reflexes saved him from having his dick bitten off. As Rat Face began to lunge, Harvey let out a shout of surprise, leaping back and to the side. As it was, Rat Face had managed to sink his teeth into Harvey’s thigh.

If Rat Face had expected to cheat his fate as a cocksucking slave by forcing The Leader to kill him, he had reckoned wrong. The heavy butcher block table was brought back out into the courtyard and Rat Face found himself bent over the edge of the widest side of the table, his legs spread wide and tied to the table legs. With his legs spread so wide apart, Rat Face knew what was about to happen – he screamed and howled threats. Not so long ago, just a spoken threat from his lips was enough to make his gang members tremble in fear. Now, his shouted threats were greeted with sniggers and guffaws of derision from behind him. One by one, his former gang mates walked past his line of vision and leered down at him. They were all naked, their dicks already hard. Most were of average size, but a couple of the Neophytes had monster cocks at least eight inches long and sickeningly thick around.

From behind him, Rat Face could feel someone pouring oil over his exposed ass crack, using a wadded rag to work the oil deep into the crevice. The rag had barely been pulled away when Rat Face felt the first erect cock pressing against his exposed hole. He could feel the mushroom head wedged between his ass cheeks for just a moment before it was shoved savagely into him. Rat Face gritted his teeth, moans of agony escaping his lips. He thought the invading cock was going to rip his insides apart. The invading cock pistoned back and forth, in and out ferociously, his invader’s thighs slapping against his bare ass. Rat Face lost count of the number of times the cock plunged in and out of his ass. All he could think of was the humiliation of being raped in front of the gang he used to help rule over. He could hear the laughter and snide comments being made, and knew soon each of those cocks would be invading him. His moans became whimpers when he felt his invader stiffen as his load filled Rat Face’s ass.

“Hey Alpha, you made him bleed!” Someone shouted from behind. So, it was The Leader’s new Second-in-Command who had raped him first.

“Of course I did,” Alpha laughed. “I busted his cherry!” He gave Rat Face’s ass cheek a hard slap that echoed across the courtyard.

Alpha had no sooner moved away, when a second cock assailed Rat Face’s exposed hole pumping in and out with enthusiasm – the Neophyte slapping the bare ass beneath him with each plunge back and forth. It wasn’t long before Rat Face’s ass cheeks were glowing a cherry red. One-by-one, the Neophytes took their turns raping Rat Face, laughing and jeering at him as they did so. When the ordeal was finally over, The Leader ordered buckets of water be dumped over the slave to clean him up. Alpha was about to release Rat Face when The Leader ordered the slave left there overnight – his punishment wasn’t quite over. Walking Alpha to the kitchen, The Leader outlined his idea for the next phase of Rat Face’s punishment. Alpha grinned in admiration and wonder at the way The Leader’s mind worked. The only thing Alpha didn’t like about the plan was the fact that he would need to stay behind at the monastery. He really wanted to accompany The Leader in the morning, but he was also proud to be trusted enough to be left in charge.

The following morning after breakfast, Alpha personally brought the tractor and cart to the courtyard, loaded a large canvas bag into the cart, and directed two of the Neophytes in releasing Rat Face. A pillow case was pulled over the slave’s head and tied loosely in place. Beta, Harvey and Gull carried the slave to the cart and unceremoniously dumped him in before climbing in themselves. The Leader climbed into the driver’s seat of the tractor and chugged away as the Neophytes speculated on what was going to happen. Many of the voiced the opinion that they were never going to see Rat Face again. Alpha just grinned – if they only knew what he did, he thought.

None of the three in the cart had any more idea of where they were headed than Rat Face did. Like the others, they wondered if The Leader was taking the slave to a secluded spot where he would be executed. Instead of going away from the town to a remote area, The Leader headed straight for the old business district of strip malls and medical parks. The tractor chugged into one of the medical park complexes bringing smiles of sadistic anticipation to the faces of the Neophytes. They had no problem imagining the punishment The Leader had in mind for Rat Face. When the tractor stopped, they immediately pulled Rat Face from the cart and headed straight for the office of Sheldon Peck, D.D.S.

For his part, Rat Face had no idea what was going on – hands roughly half carried, half shoved him from the cart and across a parking lot. From under the pillow case, he heard the sound of smashing glass and moments later, he was lifted off the ground as the boots of his captors crunched across the glass. The building had a musty smell mixed with an odor vaguely from the days before the flu – he just couldn’t place the odor. He felt himself dragged down a narrow hallway before being slammed into a padded chair.

Opening the canvas bag, The Leader produced Velcro straps which he and the Neophytes quickly used to tightly bind Rat Face into the dentist’s chair. The Leader wished there was a way to turn the bright overhead lamps on over the chair – but that just wasn’t possible. He’d have to make do with the battery operated lanterns he’d brought with them. He left the pillow case over Rat Face’s head while he searched the drawers and cabinets for the tools he’d need. He was certain the slave wouldn’t cooperate and open his mouth when ordered, so The Leader knew he’d need the rubber blocks dentists often used in the old days to keep a patient’s mouth open. It didn’t take long to find them and the plier-like extracting tools he’d need. Once he had everything laid out on the tray next to the dentist’s chair, The Leader instructed Harvey to remove the pillow case and use the last strap to bind Rat Face’s head to the chair to keep the slave from moving around too much.

Once the hood came off his head and Rat Face saw where he was, he clamped his mouth closed just as The Leader had expected. He smiled and shook his head.

“That really won’t help you at all, you know,” The Leader said. “You sealed your own fate when you tried to do serious harm to Harvey here. That stupid attack can’t be overlooked – an example needs to be made. No one, and I mean no one at all, can attack any member of the Brotherhood and not suffer the consequences of his actions.” He picked up the rubber blocks and turned to face Harvey. “Clamp his nose shut – once he can’t breathe, the bastard will have to open his mouth.”

Harvey didn’t need any urging, he practically leapt across the room to pinch Rat Face’s nostrils closed. He grinned savagely down at the slave as he struggled not to open his mouth – his cheeks puffed out as his face went from pink to red to purple. Rat Face tried his best to struggle against the straps holding him in position, his lungs burning and aching for a breath of air. Flashes of light blossomed before him as his oxygen starved brain demanded a breath of air. On impulse, Gull stepped up and gave Rat Face a sharp rap in the belly, making the slave open his mouth explosively gasping for air. The Leader moved quickly once Rat Face’s mouth was gaping open, shoving the rubber blocks into the slave’s mouth. Realizing his mouth was now blocked open, Rat face began a high-pitched whining.

“Gull, that was smart thinking,” The Leader said, patting the Neophyte’s bald head. “I like someone who takes the initiative to get things done.” Gull found himself blushing with pride at the unexpected praise from The Leader. “When we get back to the compound, I’m assigning you to special training under Alpha. You’ll be the first of the Elite Guard I want to create.”

The unexpected honor drove all residual resentment about his amputated little fingers from Gull’s mind. In his mind, everything became clear – The Leader had to impose harsh punishments sometimes to maintain discipline and order in this new unforgiving world. But, it was clear that at the same time The Leader was just and fair. He beamed with pride, his chest swelling as The Leader lifted the tooth extractors and began working.

It took a little experimentation to figure out exactly how to use the extractor correctly, but soon The Leader had the technique down pat and had removed the bottom four front teeth from the slave. He handed the extractors to Harvey, telling him that as the injured party he was entitled to have the honor of removing the top front teeth. The Leader’s voice was soft and seductively gentle as he taught Harvey how to use the dental tool, congratulating him warmly when Harvey managed to extract his first tooth.

Rat Face screamed himself hoarse, a bloody spray splattering his captors and the room. He tried to beg for them to stop, that he’d learned his lesson and was terribly sorry. But, he just couldn’t manage to form the words and get them past his bloody gums. Just when he thought nothing more could be done to humiliate him, Rat Face’s own body added further humiliation. He was so scared that his bowels and bladder voided themselves right there in the chair – filling the room with the shameful odor. The others couldn’t help but to notice the stench and laugh at the sight of the former Second-in-Command of the Taggers reduced to shitting and peeing all over himself. The Leader stepped back to open the window to let the stench out, smiling serenely to himself. Rat Face was truly and completely broken now – the Brotherhood wouldn’t have anymore problems out of him.

By the time they were finished a little over two hours later, Rat Face had passed out from the pain. The Leader found some surgical gauze sponges to pack between the slave’s ruined gums to staunch the bleeding. Beta asked if they should search for bottled water to wash Rat Face off before loading him back into the cart. The Leader shook his head, telling the followers that bringing the slave back soiled and bloody would make a more memorable example.

Climbing to the platform that now dominated the courtyard, The Leader came back to the present as he looked over the ranks of the Brotherhood of the Phoenix. Now one hundred members strong and with twelve slaves, the Brotherhood was ready to begin migrating to other areas. His followers were well trained in combat, physically strong, and relentless. Standing directly in front of the platform were the Elite – The Leader’s personal bodyguard and enforcers. Dressed in their crimson robes, their half inch cropped hair dyed the same bright crimson, they inspired fear among the other members of the Order. The Elite were the ones who usually meted out the Draconian punishments handed down by The Leader.

The Brotherhood was now large enough to be divided into groups – each with a different colored robe and hair dyed the same color as their robes. Alpha and Beta had their cropped hair dyed a vibrant blue to match the blue robes they wore as Lords. The Searchers, the Brotherhood’s scouts, wore electric green robes and hair. And the largest group of the Brotherhood was dressed in white with hair bleached stark white. These were the Soldiers of the Phoenix – every one of whom aspired to moving up in the hierarchy to a different color. In the Brotherhood, color indicated power and status. The slaves, of course, had no status in the Order at all – they were kept shaved from head to toe and naked for all to see that they had been castrated.

All members of the Brotherhood had a red phoenix rising from the flames tattooed on their foreheads. Since all members of the Brotherhood had been gangers or Tribe members, they were used to wearing makeup to identify their gang or Tribe affiliation. The Leader had explained that unlike the gangs and Tribes, membership in the Brotherhood was for life. Therefore, he said, the phoenix needed to be permanently inked onto their foreheads. He didn’t need to remind them the only way to leave the Tribe was through death – either in battle, or at the hands of the Elite guards. As The Leader stared out over his troops, someone began the chant of “Lea-der, Lea-der!” The chant was immediately picked up by every member of the Tribe.

The Leader folded back the cowl of his golden robes and shook out his shoulder-length auburn hair. He stood silently, accepting the acclaim of his followers. Once he judged that the chanting had reached its pitch, The Leader thrust his arms above his head, forearms crossed at the wrists. The followers immediately fell silent.

“POWER AND CHAOS!” The Leader bellowed.

“Power and Chaos,” one hundred voices responded, their arms thrust over their heads in imitation of the Leader’s salute.

“The time has come for us to more on,” The Leader informed his followers. “Tomorrow morning, we begin our pilgrimage south to spread our influence. Nothing shall stand in our way – those who oppose us will be thrown down and made to serve our needs.”

While The Leader whipped his followers into a frenzy of excitement over the possibility of going into battle with other Tribes, Bray and Jack were busy searching for a mall suitable for the needs of their little band. Neither Jack nor Bray had any idea that The Order of the Phoenix even existed, or that before long their paths would cross.

To be continued.