The Tribes, Chapter 8

The Tribes 08b

Within a week, Fixer had been thoroughly humiliated. All of his body hair had been auctioned off and shaved from him publicly as Inferno patrons watched, laughed, and jeered. Even his eyebrows and eyelashes had been auctioned off for only two batteries. Finally, his last night had come around. Inferno was packed so tight it was hard for people to move. Announcements had been made all week that Fixer’s balls were up for auction at last. Before being brought up to the stage, Zoot’s guards had specially prepared Fixer by shaving him smooth from head to toe. A ridiculous clown smile had been painted on his face in red lipstick. His dick was pulled up towards his chin and duct taped to his belly, leaving his balls open to public scrutiny. Then, before the club opened its doors, he had been carried up to the posts and shackled spread-eagle for all to see. Then, the doors were opened to the masses.

Sasha was one of the people in the crowd. While scouting the city during the week, he’d heard stories about what had happened to Lobo and what was in store for Fixer. Fixer had been the one who had arranged that Sasha be captured and sold to Top Hat as a slave to Tribe Circus. Hearing the rumors, he’d reported them to the other Shiprats and announced he’d be in the crowd that night. Of course, most of the others had insisted he not risk going to Inferno – claiming, probably rightly, that it could be dangerous. In the end, they knew there was no way to prevent Sasha from going to Inferno if that’s what he really wanted.

And so, Sasha had found himself a corner where he could watch the events unfold. So far, all of the rumors he’d heard had been pretty accurate. Inferno was controlled by the Loco Tribe now, the Devil Dogs were already a bad memory. And, a barely recognizable Fixer was bound spread eagle between two heavy posts on the stage. Almost every patron had something of value to use during the bidding. The Emcee was on stage, urging patrons to step up and examine Fixer’s balls for themselves before the bidding began. Sasha was surprised to find himself feeling sorry for Fixer – the former club manager had literally been stripped of everything and by the end of the night, he’d lose his balls as well. A wide strip of duct tape across Fixer’s mouth prevented him from screaming out, but even from across the large room Sasha could see the signs of terror on his face.

Sasha was staring hard at the object of everyone’s attention when a hand tugged at his arm. Absently, Sasha shrugged the tugging hand away. He felt the tug again and without taking his eyes off the scene on the stage, slapped at the hand. He thought he had heard his name called, but it was hard to hear anything above the din of the crowd. The hand grabbed him again, this time almost tugging him off his feet. Annoyed, Sasha turned and found himself staring into Jack’s hooded face. Behind Jack stood Bray.

Jack leaned close until his lips brushed Sasha’s ear, “This isn’t safe.”

Sasha shook his head as he shouted, “I can’t leave – I have to see this through.”

“I know,” Jack shouted back, nodding his head. “But, your back is against the wall – if something happens – no escape.” Jack pointed towards one of the front windows. “There is safer – c’mon. This way.”

For the first time, Sasha realized he had placed himself in a position from which there was no escape if things got out of hand. Bray cleared a way through the crowd towards the window. When they were finally seated next to the window, Jack pulled the hood of his cloak back for the first time. The noise wasn’t quite as bad here and they could almost converse in just raised voices, without having to shout into each other’s ears.

“Why are you here?” Sasha asked.

“Cuz, you’re here,” Jack said simply.

“And, I’m here because Jack’s here,” Bray added. “We’re Tribemates – we stick by each other.”

Before any of them could say anything else, their attention was drawn to the stage when the Emcee bounded onto the stage, his old-fashioned megaphone in one hand. He welcomed the crowd to the show, promising a special pre-auction treat. Off to the side of the stage, a couple of drums began beating a rhythmic tattoo as Ebony sauntered onto the stage, her arms held high. She beamed down at the audience, flashing her teeth in a parody of a smile. Clapping her hands, two Locos appeared pushing a small wheeled cart laden with Ebony’s piercing equipment.

“We all know how Fixer led everyone around by the nose for so long,” Ebony called out, her voice easily carrying to the back of the room. “As everyone knows, turnabout is fair play.” Behind her, Fixer began to shake his head from side to side in growing terror as she lifted a large silver ring from the cart, holding it high above her head for everyone to see. At a nod of her head, the largest of the Loco assistants stepped behind Fixer and wrapped his powerful arms around Fixer’s bald head, holding it steady. Even though his mouth was securely taped, everyone could tell the former club manager was screaming for all he was worth. The cords in his neck stood out clearly as his face turned a dark red.

“Ring him … Ring him,” the audience chanted as Ebony lifted a wicked-looking ice pick. Fixer’s body shook wildly in his bonds as he tried vainly to free himself and escape his torture. His penis shrank to almost nothing in his fear when Ebony stepped up to him. She traced the ice pick down the middle of his forehead, along the bridge of his nose and let it rest on the tip of his upturned nose. Suddenly, Ebony jumped back with a loud curse which startled the crowd for a moment. Craning his neck, Bray saw the reason for her sudden movement – Fixer’s bladder had voided itself. From Ebony’s reaction, the former club manager had peed all over her before she managed to jump clear of the gushing stream of urine that shot straight up from Fixer’s cock. It took several moments before she regained her composure.

“Looks like things aren’t going according to plan,” Jack said.

Onstage, Ebony barked orders to the other Loco guard who jumped to obey. He lifted a butane torch from the cart and lit it, adjusting the flame until it burned bright blue. He held the torch out as Ebony placed the ice pick in the flame, letting it glow to a brilliant red. With the pick glowing brightly, Ebony spun on her heel and rammed it through Fixer’s septum in one even stroke. Fixer’s body seemed to convulse as the ice pick was passed through his nose and pulled back out again. Bray thought the placing of the ring would be anticlimactic to the audience.

He was wrong.

Fixer’s ringing only seemed to get the crowd eager for more. They began cheering and calling for the start of the auction. The Emcee knew when to play to the crowd to keep them pleased. He immediately began calling for bids – describing how large Fixer’s balls were, implying they were worth large initial bids. And, he was getting them. The three Shiprats were amazed at the value of the items being placed as bids – one bidder offered three twenty-four volt car batteries for the right to be the one to operate the garden shears. Those three batteries could be traded for enough food to feed the bidder for almost a month. The bidding started frantic and stayed that way, making it hard for the Emcee to accurately keep track of them all. Periodically, the Emcee would look towards the rear of the club before accepting a bid.

Following the Emcee’s gaze, Sasha saw Zoot sitting with a white-haired teen. They’d put their heads together conferring over the bid. Occasionally, the white-haired kid would consult a notebook and either nod his assent or shake his head in disapproval. At that point, Zoot would gesture whether the Emcee could accept or refuse the bid. Sasha figured the white-haired teen was Fixer’s replacement.

The bids stopped dead when a voice shouted out, “Two cases of Bud and three slaves.” Immediately, the Emcee’s head snapped to the rear of the club as if it were on a string. Jack and Sasha turned to look at each other, their eyes round with fright.

“Top Hat!” Jack said, in shock as he scanned the crowd. His fingers trembled as he raised the hood of his cloak, hiding his face deep in the shadows of the hood.

Every eye in the audience turned towards Zoot to see what his answer would be. Glancing over in his direction, Sasha saw he was deep in conference with the new manager. Finally, he nodded.

“Show us the slaves,” Zoot said.

“Top Hat has no objection,” the leader of Tribe Circus said, rising from his table close to the stage and placing his trademark hat back on his head. Jack realized that was how he had missed seeing the psychopath earlier. Top Hat jabbed his crop towards the stage. Almost immediately, two of the clowns bounced up to follow their leader’s instructions. Bruno lumbered to his feet and trudged towards the stage as well.

Jack’s face drained of all color at seeing the huge bodybuilder. For a moment, he thought he was going to vomit all over himself. He became aware of Sasha slapping his arm and pointing at the stage. He nodded to indicate he saw Bruno. It was only when one of the clowns jabbed a cattle prod in Bruno’s ribs that Jack noticed the metal collar around the bodybuilder’s neck. He took his place sullenly onstage next to two of Top Hat’s other slaves. Jack didn’t recognize the other two slaves as members of Tribe Circus, so he correctly assumed they were just two unfortunates Top Hat had captured.

Zoot stood, “Bruno is one of the slaves? I thought he was your Number Two at the circus.”

Top Hat leapt to the stage and bowed theatrically, “Was Top Hat’s second is correct. But, he’s proved unreliable in that position. He tried to take what wasn’t his and let two slaves escape. Besides losing my trust, he lost something of value to him.” Top Hat prodded Bruno with his crop. “Show the good people what you lost, pig.”

Bruno glumly remained motionless, his head bowed until one of the clowns jabbed him in the side with the cattle prod. The body builder moodily undid his pants and dropped them to reveal his mutilated penis. A gasp of surprise from the audience was immediately followed by titters of laughter at seeing that over half of his dick was missing.

“Top Hat has grown tired of finding new ways to punish this pig,” the Tribe Circus leader shouted. “As you can see, he is strong – as are the other two. The trade seems to be fair, wouldn’t you say?”

Zoot remained silent as he stared at the stage. Finally he spoke, “And why are you so eager to win this auction?”

“A personal matter,” Top Hat said. “Fixer insulted Top Hat – for that, he deserves punishment at Top Hat’s hands.”

Zoot nodded, “Reason enough. The trade is fair – accept it as a bid, Emcee.”

Even though the Emcee tried his best to get the bidding to resume, not a single counterbid was entered. Jack was pretty sure no one was willing to risk the wrath of the psychopath in the silk top hat who had remained standing on the stage. Finally, the Emcee called the auction in Top Hat’s favor. The Tribe Circus leader broke out in maniacal laughter over his victory, stalking around his prize – poking and prodding Fixer, running his hands over Fixer’s smooth body. Top Hat took up a position behind the former club manager, watching over Fixer’s shoulder as Ebony reappeared and began preparations for the castration.

The audience howled with laughter at Fixer’s discomfort as Ebony wrapped the wire tie around the top of his scrotum and Top Hat began licking Fixer’s bald head in between leering glances out to the audience. As for Fixer, the crowd roared with guffaws at the way his eyes seemed to bug out and roll around – especially when Top Hat reached around and tugged on Fixer’s nose ring. When the Emcee appeared with the long-bladed garden shears, Top Hat actually did a gleeful little jig, clapping his hands excitedly. He eagerly took the shears from the Emcee and continued dancing his manic jig, rapidly opening and closing the blades as he chanted “Chop chop! Chop chop!” It wasn’t long before the audience joined in the chant.

“Chop chop!” The crowd sang out in lusty refrain to Top Hat’s chant. When he had the audience worked into a frenzy, Top Hat suddenly froze – his arms and legs spread wide and head thrown back. The audience immediately grew silent in expectation. Slowly, Top Hat tilted his head down to stare out at the audience – his mouth stretched wide in an insane grin, eyes wide and bulging. With no warning, Top Hat pirouetted on the ball of his foot, convulsively jerking the blades wide open and thrusting them unerringly at Fixer’s scrotum. Top Hat’s narrow shoulders hunched and the blades snapped together.

Jack felt sick at the crowd’s cheers as Fixer’s scrotum and balls dropped to the stage. He couldn’t get the image of the ex-manager’s limbs twitching uncontrollably in his bonds in abject terror seconds before the blades snapped closed, removing his manhood. Pulling his cloak close around his body, Jack pushed his way through the throngs of people in a dash to escape. Bray tugged Sasha’s sleeve, pulling the juggler along as he followed Jack into the street.

Once outside, Bray looked around for Jack and began growing worried when he couldn’t immediately see him. The sound of retching drifted out of the alley. Peering around the corner, Bray found Jack doubled over being violently sick. Bray waited until the sound of gagging subsided before gently leading Jack from the alley. None of them spoke as they made their way back to the Queen Mary.

Once safely back aboard the ship, Jack retreated to the Purser’s office, locking the door behind him. He remained behind the locked door for three days, ignoring requests that he open the door or come out to eat. As far as Bray knew, Jack was neither eating nor sleeping while he was locked up. He never answered shouts through the door, and seemed to not hear when Tribe members pounded on the door for up to ten minutes at a time. There was some concern that Jack might have been pushed over the edge and harmed himself. When she pressed her ear to the door, Amber reported she could hear Jack moving around in the office.

Unable to sleep, Bray found himself wandering around the Boat Deck just before dawn. Jack had been gone from his bed for the last three days – that alone was enough to make it hard for Bray to sleep. But, his growing worry that Jack was teetering on the edge of sanity gnawed at his mind and made sleep almost impossible. Cutting through the bridge from the starboard to port side of the ship, Bray saw a figure leaning over the port bridge wing. Quietly moving closer, Bray saw that it was Jack. He called out twice but Jack still didn’t respond. When Bray was standing directly behind Jack at last, he discovered why Jack hadn’t responded – he was wearing earphones connected to a portable CD player.

Jack started violently when Bray laid a hand on his shoulder, then pulled the earphones down around his neck. Bray could hear heavy strains of classical music thundering through the headset. It was a wonder Jack wasn’t deaf, he thought. Jack silently handed Bray the thermos cup of coffee he’d been nursing between his hands.

“Everyone’s been worried about you, Jack. I’ve been worried about you,” Bray said softly.

Jack seemed not to hear what Bray was saying, “Things out there are getting worse and worse all the time,” Jack said, out of the blue. “I thought the time after the last adults disappeared was as bad as it could get. I kind of figured everyone would kind of get sorted out and things would eventually settle down. But, it hasn’t.”

“Is that what you’ve been doing for the past three days?” Bray asked, incredulously. “Worrying about what’s going on out there?”

“Three days?” Jack seemed amazed. “I didn’t know it was that long.”

“What have you been doing all that time?” Bray demanded.

“Listening to Beethoven.” Jack replied.

“Listening to Beethoven?” Bray repeated, in wonder.

“Did you know that Beethoven went deaf – I don’t mean hard of hearing, but actually stone deaf?” Jack asked, his voice tinged with amazement. Bray nodded, he’d heard that in school. “And yet, he still composed some of the greatest music ever created after he lost his hearing. Do you know what he did? He cut the legs off his piano and laid on the floor with he head resting on the piano as he composed so he could feel the music.”

“That’s good to know, Jack,” Bray said, beginning to grow impatient. “But, what does that have to do with anything?”

“You don’t get it,” Jack said sadly. “The man was faced with a major problem – a problem that would have ended the careers of most other people!”

“Yeah, and he cut the legs off a piano,” Bray shot back.

“NO!” Jack cried out. “He found a way to solve the problem. He thought outside the box and came up with a way to continue living. He wrote even more powerful music, see? And, when he conducted an orchestra playing his music, he could feel the vibrations in the air. He solved his problems and was even better than he was before.”

“So, where is this going?”

“You know why everyone was bidding on what was happening the other night, and cheering so much?” Jack asked, seeming to change the subject.

“No, why?”

“Because they have nothing better to do,” Jack answered. “Worse, they don’t have anything better to hope for – they don’t think they have a future. So, watching someone else suffer makes them feel better about themselves.”

Bray was taken aback by Jack’s observations. Like the other Shiprats, he knew things were getting worse, he just hadn’t taken the time to figure out why. Jack, the problem solver – on the other hand, had holed up and examined the problem and reached an answer.

“So what do we do?” Bray asked.

“We give them a reason to think there could be a future,” Jack said, shrugging as if the answer was obvious. “See, right now, almost everyone is trying to scrounge enough just to get by on a day-to-day basis. And, the trading that goes on – well, it’s disorganized. Everyone out there is only trading tangible things – one pack of batteries for a can of stew or something.”

“Yeah?”

“What about those that don’t have anything to trade?” Jack asked. “They go hungry – that’s what. Or else they steal from someone else. But, they don’t have to. They could trade their labor for food.”

“I guess they could,” Bray agreed, realizing Jack already had an idea in mind.

Jack pointed out to the large parking lot next to the ship’s permanent berth, “Look at all that empty space – we could make part of it a marketplace. A place people could rent a stall or cart or kiosk to trade their goods or skills.” He turned to face Bray for the first time, revealing dark circles under his bright, shining eyes. “There’s farmers out there, raising chickens and crops, you and Sasha both said so – they need a place to trade their goods.”

Bray nodded, he and Sasha had come across some groups starting to raise crops and even animals as they explored for supplies for the Tribe. What Jack was saying made sense – it could work.

“Where are we going to get these stalls and carts and stuff?” Bray asked.

“From the malls – they all have carts and kiosks,” Jack answered. “All that stuff is just sitting there and waiting to be used again. And, there’s tons of lumber around – we could make stalls and a stage.”

“A stage?”

“Yeah – the other thing we all need is some entertainment,” Jack replied. “Not the kind of entertainment where someone is tortured and humiliated, either. The kind that makes people laugh or gives them a thrill.”

“I bet Sasha knows some people like that,” Bray mused. “The kind who’d try to stay clear of Tribe Circus.” He looked over the huge parking lot. “Why only use part of the lot?”

“Because I want to build three lagoons,” Jack said, simply.

“Three lagoons?” Bray asked. “For what?”

“Water purification, for one thing,” Jack replied. “In case you haven’t noticed, the toilets are beginning to back up more often. That means the sewer lines are backing up – probably because the waste management plants are filled up and offline. We can pipe all our waste water into a lagoon and naturally purify it.”

“How?”

“In the first lagoon, we have these plants – kind of like water lilies. They grow like you wouldn’t believe – kind of like kudzu. The waste acts like a fertilizer for the plants, they absorb almost all the wastes and clean the water. Then, we cycle the water through a pebble and sand purifier which removes even more waste, and then the water overflows into the second lagoon. And, that lagoon has more sand and pebbles on the bottom. From there, we run the water through another filter tank like the first one before letting it flow over into the third lagoon. By that time, the water is pure and safe for washing or even drinking if need be.”

“Are you sure it will work?” Bray asked, doubtfully.

“Of course,” Jack said. “It’s worked for centuries – even most waste management plants use similar methods. Did you know Disney World reclaims all their waste water like that? That’s where they get – or got – all the water they used in their fountains.”

Bray shook his head in total amazement – Jack started off bothered by one problem and in working to solve that, also found a way to address another totally unrelated problem.

“And, that’s not all,” Jack continued. “The water plants will have to be harvested on a regular basis, or they’ll choke off the first lagoon and the whole system will back up.” A grin began curling up the corners of his mouth. The enigmatic grin seemed to erase the tired look on Jack’s features.

Bray couldn’t help grinning back, Jack had something else up his sleeve. He sighed, good naturedly, “Okay, what else is on that genius mind of yours?”

“Well, when the lilies are composted,” Jack said. “They decompose and one of the by-products is methane gas. We can collect the methane and store it.”

“And?” Somewhere in the back of his mind, Bray remembered that methane was highly volatile.

“And,” Jack’s face was beaming, “we can light off the remaining two boilers, which can run the entire generating plant for the ship. That means, we can get everything working – not just the lights and essential electricity like we have now. With the generating plant operating, we can have air conditioning, heating – hell, we could even run the powerful search lights around the clock.”

Over breakfast, Bray introduced Jack’s ideas to the other Shiprats and was pleased to find them generally receptive. The few objections presented were really matters of logistics that could easily be worked out. Amber pointed out the need for some kind of security to give visitors to the marketplace a sense of safety. Selene and Heather both suggested the Shiprats should charge a nominal fee to those who wanted to use one of the stalls in the marketplace. Sasha confirmed he knew of several entertainers who would love the opportunity of performing without having to worry about being enslaved. Dal, on the other hand, liked the idea of the water purification lagoons and suggested using small amounts of chlorine to ensure the water was totally safe to drink. Adding that the Tribe could offer bottled water in trade at the marketplace.

Bray was astounded with the Tribe’s reaction to Jack’s ideas – everyone was energized, throwing out additional ideas and suggestions. Sasha asked if it would be possible to offer the other performers a place to stay on the ship in return for performing. Adding he thought he might even be able to put together a small acting company who could stage actual, full-length plays as an alternative entertainment. The only person who wasn’t adding to the conversation was Jack. Bray turned and found his small lover slumped over in his chair, fast asleep.

Shaking his head in bemusement, Bray lifted Jack from the chair and carried him down to their suite and tucked him into bed. He sat by the side of the bed and stared at Jack’s face as he slept. There were still creases as if something continued to disturb Jack. He wished he could make whatever was bothering Jack right again. Gingerly getting up, Bray leaned over the bed and kissed Jack on the forehead.

“Sleep tight,” Bray whispered before tiptoeing from the room.

Jack woke with a start – he’d been dreaming about Bruno and the fate he was sure awaiting the big bodybuilder. He didn’t regret what he’d been forced to do to escape Tribe Circus, and even though he had said he hoped Sasha had killed the strongman, he knew he hadn’t really meant it. His rational, scientific mind told him that he had nothing to do with Bruno’s downfall and the public castration that was bound to follow at the hands of the Locos. But, his heart told him that he did help contribute to what was happening to the bodybuilder.

Throwing the blankets off, Jack found he was trembling all over as he padded across the room to his closet and began going through his clothes. He selected his black cargo pants, a black turtleneck, and black balaclava from his days before he met Bray. Pulling out his old black field jacket, Jack began twisting at the grommet until it came loose revealing a flexible wire saw. He’d installed the saw in his coat when he was on his own in case he was ever captured by the local gangs. Jack had figured that as long as his hands were tied or cuffed in front of him he’d be able to cut himself loose. Thankfully, he’d always been able to elude the local gangs. Now, the saw was finally going to get some use.

Jack was sweating as he changed into his black clothes and pulled out his small leather dispatch bag. Trying to find a way to sneak in and give Bruno a chance to escape was as likely to end up with Jack as a prisoner of the Locos, or with Bruno beating the shit out of him, as it was to be successful. Stealthily slipping out of the suite, Jack sneaked down the corridors as he made his way to his workshop in the Purser’s office. He knew he had to avoid being seen by anyone else – he doubted anyone else in the Tribe would allow him to take such a stupid risk. He certainly knew, he would prevent anyone else from taking such a risk.

Reaching the workshop, Jack slipped inside and quietly rummaged around the bottles of chemicals he had collected until he found the ones he needed. It was a matter of a few breathless minutes to make a bottle of ammonium iodide, a low grade explosive. In liquid form, the ammonium iodide was fairly stable, but once it began to dry and form crystals, it became highly unstable and volatile. Jack wasn’t sure whether the stuff was powerful enough to blow the locking mechanism out of handcuffs without doing serious injury to the prisoner. Then again, maybe the explosive would just jam the handcuff mechanisms so they couldn’t ever be opened. Jack carefully wrapped the bottle of brown liquid between two small squares of foam before packing the bottle in his dispatch bag. Searching the chemical shelf, Jack found a small can of oil and a can of spray silicone lubricant. He added both cans to his dispatch bag and turned to leave. He was halfway to the door when he stopped and hurried over to his work desk and hastily scribbled a note to the others – that way, if things went wrong for him, they’d at least know what happened and that he hadn’t just abandoned the Tribe.

Slipping out the door, Jack eased his way to the gangway and dashed across the parking lot, not stopping until he was sure he was out of sight of the ship. His conscience nagged at sneaking off on his friends, but he was able to mollify that nagging feeling by reminding himself that he was righting a wrong he had indirectly helped to create.

Keeping to side streets and alleys, it took Jack a little longer than he expected to make his way to the Inferno. Aside from a bored guard on the front door, there was little activity around the club during daylight hours. Jack skulked around, using all the survival skills he had learned back when he was on his own to keep out of sight while reconnoitering the club. When he decided he couldn’t put off approaching the club any longer, Jack worked his way around the block and came up the alley running along the side of the building. Crouching next to the Inferno building, Jack pulled his balaclava hood from his bag and pulled it down over his head, covering almost all of his face. Only his eyes remained uncovered.

Jack figured Bruno would most likely be held captive in the building’s basement, so he carefully edged his way along the building peering through the small basement windows. He didn’t have any luck with the side alley, so he began working his way along the back and struck double pay dirt. The first window he peeked into showed Bruno huddled in the corner – his hands cuffed together and a chain running from his ankle to a large ring in the wall. Next to the window, was an old coal chute that was easily big enough to accommodate Bruno’s bulk. Jack examined the coal chute, grinning when he found it was padlocked with the cheapest of locks available. The first thing he did was generously spray the hinges and hasp with the silicone lubricant. Then, he fished his tool kit from the dispatch bag and went to work picking the padlock. He’d learned to pick most cheap locks when he’d been on his own, and although he was a little rusty from lack of practice, he managed to open the lock in just about a minute.

Jack’s heart was thumping like a conga drum as he began easing the coal chute door open wide enough for him to squeeze through. Dropping lightly to the floor, Jack turned around and made sure he could quickly jump up and get back out of the coal chute door in an emergency before continuing across the room. Once he was satisfied he could scramble out if needed, he turned to find Bruno sitting upright and staring in his direction.

Holding his finger up in front of his face, Jack motioned for the bodybuilder to keep quiet. Keeping close to the wall Jack edged closer to Bruno, keeping one eye on how much chain the bodybuilder had available to him. Jack wanted to stay out of the large teen’s reach – he still wasn’t sure the bodybuilder would find his presence welcome.

Jack stopped at a point where he was sure he was out of reach, “You want to get out of here?”

“What the hell do you think?” Bruno snapped.

“Shhh! Keep you voice down,” Jack hissed. “Do you want everyone to hear you?”

Bruno’s eyes narrowed, as if fearing some kind of trap, “What’s the catch?”

“No catch – you want to stay here and face what they have planned, or do you want to get out of here?” Jack whispered. “It’s your choice – the faster I’m out of here the better I’ll feel.” He fished around in his bag and pulled out the coiled survival wire saw, tossing it over to where Bruno could reach it.

The prisoner examined the coiled wire suspiciously, “What am I supposed to do with this?”

“Uncoil it – it’s a saw,” Jack explained. “If I were you, I’d use it on the chain around your ankle – you can worry about the handcuffs after you’re out of here.”

“I still don’t know why you’re doin’ this,” Bruno growled, as he went to work with the saw.

“Because, I feel kinda guilty that you’re here,” Jack said, pulling his balaclava back to reveal his face.

At first, Bruno didn’t recognize Jack – then he saw past the haircut and new hair color. “You’re the one who escaped – the one who bit off my dick.”

“I didn’t plan to do that,” Jack said, uneasily edging back towards the coal chute door. “Remember, you were busy raping me at the time … all we wanted to do was escape … you didn’t give me any choice. I did what I had to do is all … you had as much to do with what happened to you as I did.”

Bruno’s face contorted remembering the events of that night. Jack couldn’t tell if he was feeling regret for his own actions, or just harboring resentment towards him. He fumbled in his bag, pulled out the ammonium iodide, and set it on the floor as he edged even further back.

“That’s a liquid explosive,” Jack said, indicating the bottle. “It’s not real powerful, but it might be strong enough to break the handcuff lock mechanism. You have to let it dry and form crystals – then, break the crystals by slamming the handcuffs against something hard. Breaking the crystals will cause a small explosion. I think it will work, but I’m not sure – so, you better keep the saw just in case.”

Jack turned and scrambled over to the coal chute.

“Wait!” Bruno hissed, frantically working the saw. “So why?”

“Why what?”

“Why’re you takin’ this risk?” Bruno demanded. “I mean, it’s not like you owe me nothin’.”

“You wouldn’t understand,” Jack said, sadly.

“Try me.”

“Because, even though you and the others in Tribe Circus were wrong to do the things you did,” Jack explained, “you don’t deserve to be tortured and humiliated like they plan to do.”

“You was humiliated,” Bruno reminded him.

“Right,” Jack agreed. “And, it was wrong. But, it’s just as wrong to let it happen to you – maybe worse, because I know it’s wrong.”

Bruno suddenly tipped backwards as the saw finished cutting though the link in the chain. He wasted no time in pulling on the chain to open the link. Jack wasted even less time scrambling up through the coal chute and back into the alley. He paused only long enough to pull the balaclava down over his face before sprinting down the alley. He wanted to put as much distance between him and the club as possible. He thought he heard the metal chute door clang shut behind him in the distance, but didn’t bother to stop long enough to turn around to find out. He was confident he had enough of a head start to stay ahead of the bodybuilder. He was just beginning to start feeling safe when two Locos rounded the corner directly in front of him.

It didn’t take the Locos long to decide that the running figure in black with a black balaclava mask was probably up to no good in their territory. Jack wasn’t sure whether he screamed in fear first, or whether the Locos bellowed their challenge first. Either way, it didn’t much matter – the two Locos, their faces covered with catcher’s masks charged as the air still reverberated with the echoes of the shouts. Without thinking, Jack went into a slide that managed to bowl the two patrol members off their feet. He started scrambling to his feet, struggling to disentangle himself from the two Locos on top of him. Jack had barely regained his feet when a hand snatched at his ankle, sending him flat on his face.

Kicking wildly, Jack tried to break free from the grip holding his ankle and resume his flight from the area. His anxious shouts mingled with the angry roars of the patrol as he flailed around trying to get away from them and they doggedly tried to subdue him. Hope was fading fast in Jack’s brain when a new, feral howl filled the air. The pressure of hands grabbing at him began to diminish. Twisting his head around, Jack found Bruno unceremoniously dumping a limp and groaning Loco into a Dumpster before turning his attention to the other one. The fight was short – the bodybuilder simple clenched both massive hands together and clubbed the Loco twice in the face. Jack saw the Loco’s eyes roll back in his head with the first blow. Bruno’s second blow was unnecessary – he delivered it as additional punishment.

Dropping the last Loco, Bruno reached out for Jack. Jack wanted to run – he desperately wanted to put as much distance between himself and the large, bald-headed teen, but he couldn’t make his legs move. All he could do was whimper helplessly as Bruno grabbed Jack and lifted him off the ground and slammed him into the wall. Jack’s jaws snapped painfully together so hard he was afraid he’d broken a couple of teeth. The bodybuilder slammed Jack against the wall a second time before shoving his face up close to Jack’s.

“I ought to break you into little pieces,” Bruno snarled, his fetid breath washing over Jack’s face. “But, I won’t – this time.” He lowered Jack back to the ground, but didn’t remove his hands from Jack’s shirt. “You helped me out back there – so, I owe you. We’re even now.”

“I – I understand,” Jack said, his voice cracking.

“But, first,” Bruno plunged his knee into Jack’s groin. “That’s just a little preview of what’s in store next time I see you.”

Jack’s breath whooshed out of him as pain exploded in his groin. Bruno stepped back and let Jack sink to the ground, gasping for breath.

“If you’re half as smart as you think you are,” Bruno warned. “You’ll get as far away from here as possible.”

“Good idea,” Jack gasped, clutching his belly. “Where’re you going?”

“Me?” Bruno snorted. “I’m getting outta this town. Far away.”

Jack nodded, squeezing his eyes shut in pain and gulping lungfuls of air in an attempt to make the throbbing subside. Opening his eyes again, Jack was surprised to find Bruno had disappeared. He had fully expected the brute to continue beating on him, regardless of his claims to let Jack go this time. Struggling to his feet, Jack hobbled as fast as he could from the area, pulling his balaclava off and stuffing it in his bag as he went. It took over two hours before Jack managed to return to the Queen Mary.

Jack hadn’t counted on Bray’s reaction when he finally got back to the ship. Before he could even offer a word of explanation, Bray began screaming like a wild man. He punctuated his tirade with slaps to Jack’s head and torso. Stunned, Jack cringed and tried to protect his head and face as Bray continued to rain blows at him.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Bray bellowed, finally grabbing Jack by the shirt and shaking his back and forth. “Do you have any fucking idea of the kind of danger you put yourself in? You saw what those maniacs do to people for fun … what was going through your mind?”

“Let me explain …” Jack protested.

“Shut up!” Bray interrupted, shaking him even harder. “I don’t want to hear it, Jack. The problem is you don’t fucking think things through. You didn’t even stop to think of the risk you put yourself in, did you?”

Attracted by the commotion, Amber, Dal, and Sasha appeared, stunned at the sight of Bray’s rage. When they attempted to pull him away from Jack, he threw them off easily.

“Don’t any of you realize what kind of danger he put himself and us in?” Bray cried. “He didn’t think about what we’d do if he was caught. We’d have tried to save him – that’s what.” He spun on the other three, his face a mask of rage. “Do any of you think we can match the Locos? Do you?”

“I don’t think Jack expected us to rescue him,” Dal said, softly.

“He didn’t stop to think about anything,” Bray spat back. “Don’t any of you realize how important Jack is to us? Without him, we wouldn’t have electricity or running water – hell, who here knows how to implement the ideas he has for water purification and getting the remaining boilers working? Huh? Huh? Jack didn’t bother to think about any of that.”

Amber grabbed Bray’s hand and managed to pull him away from Jack, “Okay, Jack was stupid – but acting like a wild man isn’t going to change that.” She turned on Jack. “It’s okay, no one’s going to hit you again. What were you thinking?”

“I’m sorry I worried anyone,” Jack cried. “And, I didn’t expect anyone to try to rescue me of things went wrong, but I couldn’t just let the Locos torture Bruno and castrate him for the fun of it.”

“Why not?” Sasha asked. “Hell, he was in the middle of raping you when we escaped.”

The words hit Bray and Amber like physical blows – they’d known Jack had been beaten savagely while he was a prisoner of Tribe Circus. But, they’d never known about the sexual assaults.

“That isn’t the point,” Jack said, tears spilling down his cheeks. “Bruno does deserve to be punished – but, not tortured and used for sport. That’s not punishment – that’s just wrong.”

“Oh, Jack,” Amber began.

“Don’t you understand? Don’t any of you understand?” Jack wailed. “It’s because of what I did that landed Bruno in the situation he was in …”

“Jack, all you did was escape,” Amber said, gently. “You can’t hold yourself responsible for that.”

“That’s not all I did,” Jack shot back.

“Jack,” Sasha said. “It’s okay – you don’t have to say anything else. It’s okay.”

“No!” Jack screamed, near hysteria. “They don’t know that while he was raping me – forcing his dick down my throat – I bit his cock off.” Amber’s hands flew to her face in horror. Bray staggered like he’d been hit. “That’s right – I jammed my jaws tight and bit right through it.”

“You did what you had to do to save us both, Jack,” Sasha said.

“I know that,” Jack snapped. “And, I’d do it again – I’m sure. But, I wouldn’t just torture him or anyone else for fun. That’s just wrong and can’t be tolerated. I can’t help feeling a little like I helped put him in that position – even if he was mostly at fault. I couldn’t just stand by and let him be tortured for no good reason.”

“But, he raped you,” Sasha said.

“Then, put him in jail or cane him,” Jack countered. “Punish him, yes! But, what is going on at the Inferno isn’t about punishment – it’s just torture and humiliation as amusement. And, we’re better than that – or at least, I think we are. And, if I want to feel right with myself, I can’t just sit by and do nothing. I’d rather die trying to make things better than just sit by and watch everything continue to fall apart and do nothing.”

For the first time, Bray noticed the trickle of blood pouring from Jack’s nostril and realized he’d been the one to do that to Jack. He once again had his hand on Jack, this time tenderly – tilting Jack’s head back and calling for Sasha to get cold compresses. He began examining Jack’s face and head for other injuries, tears running down his face as he babbled apologies.

Jack seemed to understand that Bray’s earlier outburst had been fueled not out of anger, but fear – Bray had been afraid something had happened to Jack while he had been away, and frustrated at not being able to keep his lover safe and protected. He allowed Bray to lead him to the First Class Lounge where Bray tenderly laid cold compresses over the back of Jack’s neck and dabbed at the blood trickling from his nose.

Amber found Sasha perched on a railing on the Boat Deck, playing a mournful tune on a recorder. He let the tune trail off as she approached.

“Why didn’t you tell anyone about what happened to Jack?” Amber asked.

“It wasn’t my business,” Sasha said, simply. “He seemed to be handling it pretty well without me or anyone else making a fuss about it and embarrassing him.” He twisted around precariously on the railing. “I thought about it, but I didn’t see any good reason to open wounds for Jack that are probably best left closed. What could you or me or anyone do or say to make him feel better? I figure all we’d end up doing was make him feel self-conscious about what happened.”

“I guess,” Amber admitted, chewing her lip. “Still, maybe if we’d known what happened, we could have stopped Jack from taking such a terrible risk.”

Sasha shook his head, his caramel locks falling over his brow, “Nah, he’d have gone anyway. He can’t help himself,” Sasha said, philosophically. “He’s the kind who can’t help doing the right thing – even if it means putting himself at risk, or doing what he really doesn’t want to do.”

Amber nodded, she remembered how demoralized Jack had been when he’d had to perform Peter’s castration. Amber, Dal, and Selene had known since they found Peter that castration was the only way to save his life – but, none of them could bring themselves to do it. Jack, on the other had, knew what had to be done and did it, even though he suffered mentally for a long time afterwards.

“Jack’s made of pretty strong stuff,” Sasha said, knowingly. “I watched him resist Top Hat and the others – you should have seen how bad they beat him, and he didn’t break. He just took everything they did to him and the whole time he was thinking of a way for both of us to escape.”

“You would have done the same for him,” Amber pointed out.

“No, I wouldn’t have,” Sasha admitted, ruefully. “At least not back then, I wouldn’t have. I’d have been sorry to leave him behind, but I would have.” His eyes began to shine with admiration. “See, after all the adults were gone, I was like everyone else – I stopped believing in much of anything but surviving from one day to the next.”

“Well, we all did,” Amber said. “It was only natural.

“Not Jack,” Sasha countered. “He still believed that something better could be in the future – and not the faraway future, either. And, he went to work making things better.” He gave a wry little smile. “And, know what? He did make things better – look at all of us. We have hope again, and are making plans for the future.” He shook his head. “Bray’s right that Jack is important to us, but not because he can invent things and work out ways to make life better. Jack’s important because he kept the memory of things like right and wrong, hope, virtue, and all those other noble ideas alive.”

Amber’s head bobbed up and down in agreement, “You’re right – I never thought about it like that. But, that’s exactly what Jack has done.”

“And that scares me,” Sasha said, ominously.

“What do you mean?” Amber asked, in confusion.

“Guys like him always end up as martyrs,” Sasha pointed out, his eyes troubled.

To be continued …