As Rachel watched him, again she pondered, could Greg be the one? Could he be her Mr. Right? She knew she had never felt like this about anyone else before. Since they had first met two months prior, he had always been so good to her. How could she not be enamored of this handsome, intelligent man sleeping next to her. He was smart, and certainly he seemed well off. If it were only not for that gray side. That part of him she hadn't figured out yet.

Greg could at times seem incredibly cold and detached, as though his life and actions were merely a scripted role that he played mechanically. It was as though the Greg that she thought she knew and loved didn't really exist. Of course, when he would occasionally catch her observing him like that he would smile and reassure her. He had been abused as a child and sometimes the ghosts came back. Or at least that was what he said. But somehow all the pieces just didn't seem to want to fit together.

Finally, the sun was bright enough to awaken Greg also. He opened his eyes and saw Rachel lying there watching him. For a split second, it seemed as though a terrible blackness passed over his features, but then he smiled at her and gave her a small, good morning kiss before bouncing out of bed and heading for the bathroom. As he came back into the room he asked, "Any plans for the 4th of July weekend?"

"Actually I was going to Idaho." Rachel replied. "Every year a bunch of girls from college get together at a ranch there."

Greg was furious with himself that he had not anticipated this. Rachel had never said anything about being close to a bunch of old college cunts. These past several months of priming Rachel would all be wasted if he didn't think of something fast. Not to mention the reaction of his buddies. That he didn't even want to consider. Covering himself quickly, Greg put on the most disappointed look he could muster and sat on the bed next to Rachel. "You know hun. I was kind of hoping that we could do something special. Get away somewhere. Someplace where I could have you away from all this."

A quizzical "Huh?" was all Rachel could muster for a moment. "What did you have in mind?"

"A trip to the mountains, Rach. I've got all the necessary equipment and I even got an extra sleep- ing bag for you. I was hoping that this would be a surprise treat for us. After all, you have complained that I am not spontaneous enough. Come on hun. It will be fun. Just throw some socks and jeans and tops together and let's go. We could leave now. Not even tell anyone, just our little adventure. Please?"

Maybe it was the little boy please that Greg threw in at the end that did it, but Rachel melted. If she was considering the possibility of spending her life with this man, how could she begrudge him a few days in the mountains. And the part about being alone with him did sound appealing.

"OK! Just let me pull a few things together and let's go. We can have breakfast on the road."

Rachel began flying around the room collecting her necessary things. In her haste she failed to notice the smug, self-satisfied look on Greg's face. Rachel could hear Greg in the kitchen making himself a cup of coffee as she went into the bathroom to put on her makeup. Finally satisfied with her appearance she started to leave, then hesitated and picked up the phone. The least she could do would be to let Rebecca know that she wouldn't be there for the annual gathering.

Becky was disappointed of course, but she knew the area where Rachel and Greg were headed and knew it to be beautiful. She knew that Rachel was an exper- ienced hiker, but she hoped that Greg was up to it as the area contained many rough and isolated areas. And she also hoped that Greg was good to her, as Rachel was truly a very special lady who deserved the best.

They had been hiking for almost three hours. The views were magnificent, but thus far there had been few places that would have been conducive to camping. The nice large flat spots had no water, while the spots near streams were either too small, too steep, or otherwise unacceptable. Greg reassured her though that he knew the perfect spot just a mile or so further up the trail. Sure enough, about 15 minutes later they rounded a bend. There Rachel saw a large ledge on the mountainside nestled under a huge rock overhang. A small stream splashed down the mountainside adjacent to the ledge. There were even some trees on the far side of the ledge to provide shade from the sun. The spot was perfect! Then Rachel noticed something that wasn't so perfect. They were not alone! Greg wasn't the least concerned though, walking right over to the four other men and immediately laughing and slapping the men on the back. They looked back at Rachel and the conversation between the men immediately dropped in tone. Finally, Greg walked back to where Rachel stood dumbfounded. "What the hell is this?" Rachel demanded. "You said we were going to be alone!"

"Don't worry about them," Greg replied. "They're old friends of mine. They will be moving on tomorrow and then you'll have all the time in the world here."

"And ain't that the truth." Greg muttered quietly to himself as he carried Rachel's backpack over towards the trees and began setting up camp. This last comment Rachel missed as she stood there fuming at this intrusion on HER special time with Greg.

As the afternoon progressed, little occurred to improve Rachel's impression of Greg's acquaintances or her mood in general. She hadn't known it at first, but there was another gentleman along on the trip. A Mr. Jim Beam. Mr. Beam also had a number of clones present and the men were getting louder and more obnoxious as Mr. Beam made a greater and greater influence on the bunch. Night fell, and still the men did nothing by sit around the campfire and drink, smoke, talk sports, and tell smutty stories about victimized women. Rachel had dined alone on an MRE from her backpack and was about to call it a night and retire to her tent. She was just unzipping the tent when a hand grabbed her shoulder. She whirled about to see Greg's four buddies standing there. The drunken, lecherous expressions on their faces were unmistakable. Greg just sat by the fire looking over at them.

"Greg!" she cried.

"Relax baby," the tallest of the four said. "You're gonna have the time of your life!"

With that, the four men grabbed Rachel and dragged her to a cleared area near the fire. Two men held her immobile on the ground while the other two commenced driving tent stakes into the ground and tying her limbs to them, leaving her spread eagled on the ground. Her screams for Greg to help her just went ignored.

"God she's a feisty one," the short dark haired one said. "Better than that blonde Chuckie brought two years ago!"

"Greg!" Rachel screamed. "What's going on here? What's he talking about?"

Greg finally stirred from his seat near the fire and ambled over to her. Squatting next to her, he said, "Welcome to the annual get-together of my little group. We come up here every year and every year it's one guy's job to bring the entertainment. This year it was my turn and baby, you're it!"

Rachel groaned, too shocked for the full impact of Greg's words to filter through. "Say hi to Mike, Steve, Chuckie, and Ace," Greg said, gesturing in turn to the tall blonde, the short dark-haired fellow, a rotund blob of a man, and a Neanderthal of short stature and lower intellect.

"Greg!" Rachel pleaded. "I thought you loved me!"

"You thought what you wanted to think!" he sneered and walked away.

Since Greg had been intimate with Rachel a number of times, her body didn't have the same fascination to him that it did to the other four. Accordingly, he figured he would let them have the first go at her. That was also consistent with an unwritten code of the group which said that the guy who had brought the entertainment would let the others have first crack at her. And Greg's buddies were wasting no time. While Greg had been talking to Rachel, they had all stripped and were now crowded around her, running their hands over her body, mauling her breasts, squeezing her crotch. When Rachel started to scream and jerk away from them, Mike pulled back his right hand and backhanded her across the face. "Shut up ya stupid bitch! This can be even harder than it has to be if you want it that way!"

Rachel's head reeled from the force of the blow. While she fought to stop her head from swimming, she became aware that all four men had produced knives and were proceeding to slowly and methodically cut the clothes away from her body. Her shirt and slacks were the first to go. Lying there clad only in her red lacy bra and matching panties (a special set she had bought to please Greg), Rachel was a sight that under other cir- cumstances would have aroused a priest. But right now, the only effect was to further inflame the lust of the four drunken pigs surrounding her. They were now free to fondle the exposed flesh of her arms, her stomach, her legs. They grabbed at her breasts and genitals feeling the heat of her flesh through the thin fabric. A swift knife slice by one of the men deftly removed her bra, while another grabbed her panties in his hand and ripped them away. That some pubic hair was caught in his grasp at the time mattered not to the man, and Rachel screamed as a patch of her hair was ripped out by the roots.

"Damn it! I told you to shut up!", Mike yelled. Grabbing a camp shovel he hit Rachel against the side of her head. This time though, Rachel tasted blood and, as her head cleared, felt the teeth that had been knocked out from the blow.

The nightmare that had overtaken her finally registered fully with Rachel, and she began to scream and to try and jerk herself free somehow. Her scream- ing though was more a gurgle as the blood from her smashed jaw choked her. In a somewhat sissified voice, Chuckie started to whine. "She's giving me a headache. And it's no fun listening to her like that."

With that, Chuckie grabbed her ruined panties and stuffed them into her mouth. Then, cutting a pant leg from her slacks, he tied the panties into place. Rachel was sufficiently gagged that Chuckie was spared any exacerbation of his headache. The gag was also almost completely cutting off Rachel's air supply.

Taking his knife, Chuckie ran the edge of the blade over Rachel's left nipple slicing it in two. "That will teach you big mouth!" The other three thought that was hilarious as her muffed screams filtered through the gag and she twisted and jerked against her bonds.

"Now how am I gonna get my dick sucked?" Ace complained. "Ya covered her mouth!"

'Forget the blowjob!" Steve commanded. "Remember that little bitch last year who almost bit your dick off?

Despite Greg's earlier explanation, it somehow truly registered with Rachel that she was not the first to undergo torture and humiliation at the hands of these men. There had been other women who had under- gone what she was experiencing now. Who were they, she wondered. And what happened to them?

Foregoing his blowjob, Ace climbed between Rachel's thighs and after positioning the head of his cock at the entrance to her pussy shoved foreword with all his strength. In the complete absence of any lubricating fluid to ease the entrance of Ace's monster, the thick dick felt like coarse sandpaper ripping into her tender flesh . Pain like she had never felt before tore through her vagina. Rachel tried to scream, but the panties stuffed into her mouth successfully muffled her cries so that all that was heard were her moans. But there was no mistaking the agony that was etched on her face. Every muscle in her body was taut as though somehow that might ease the horror that her body was experiencing. Wasting no time, Ace rammed his cock in and out of Rachel's tormented body. With typical Neanderthal efficiency, Ace promptly came and pulled out of her. "Sloppy seconds!" Steve cried as he leapt into the space just vacated by Ace. As crudely and abruptly as Ace, Steve shoved the length of his dick into Rachel's cunt. Whether because his dick was smaller, or the combination of Ace's cum and her own blood served as a form of lubricant, this second penetration was far less agonizing than the first. But Steve's equipment was decidedly longer than Ace's, and as it hit home Rachel could feel new waves of pain from deep within her abused body.

After Steve came Mike who solidly pushed Chuckie aside to be the third to fuck Rachel. Chuckie stood there crabbing at Mike about how he had been next until Mike too satisfied himself. As he gleefully began to take his turn with Rachel, Chuckie's pathetic humping would have been humorous, even ludicrous, under other conditions. To Rachel though one violation was fast becoming much like another. The pain prevented any differentiation between the cocks that tore and pounded within her.

After the four men had each raped her once, they retired to the fire for a rest and further consultation with Mr. Beam. Rachel lay there, still bound and spread legged, quietly sobbing and praying that it was over.

It wasn't. And the worst was yet to come.

After a brief respite, the men returned. This time Greg was with them. The initial arousal created by the availability of fresh meat had been spent. The men needed something more to excite them. That some- thing they sought in new and obscene affronts against Rachel's tormented body.

It began with Steve grabbing Rachel's uninjured nipple and his lifting her body off the ground with it. Her nipples, always sensitive, sent new forms of pain rocketing through her. Abruptly releasing her, her body crashed back to Earth. Mike took the camp shovel again and again bashed it against the side of Rachel's head, this time on the other side or her head, next to her eye. He chanted, "Wakey, wakey! Time for more fun!" Chuckie, who had taken several extra swallows of whiskey to work himself up, crashed down on her chest, his fat, pasty white ass crushing her breasts and driving the air from her lungs. He pinned her shoulders down with his knees and with his pudgy fists began flailing away at Rachel's face. All the while he swore at her and vented on her innocent form every insult, repulse, and degradation he felt he had ever experienced at the hands of a woman. And given his obese body, troll-like appearance, nasal voice, and disgusting personality, Chuckie's perceived list was a long one!

How Rachel didn't suffocate is a mystery as she was still bound by the gag and Chuckie's blows had served to fracture her nose. The bleeding from her jaw intensified and she truly would have drowned in her own blood had not Greg cut the pant leg and removed her gag. Pity had no part in his action though as he snarled, "Can't have you dying on us yet!"

Mike had climbed atop her and was busily pumping his organ into Rachel's body when Greg sliced the ropes binding Rachel's legs. "Roll on your side," he com- manded Mike, and he snuggled into place behind Rachel.

"Now for what the prissy bitch didn't want to give!"

Greg thrust his dick against the tight sphincter of Rachel's ass. Never had she been taken back there. She hadn't even especially cared for anal stimulation, so the muscle of her orifice was quite tight. Greg wasn't to be denied though and continued to push his penis against the firmly resisting ring of Rachel's puckered asshole. Eventually, shear force began to win out and the tight ring began to rip open. Once started, Greg's passage into Rachel's bowel became swifter. The muscle's resistance failed and Rachel felt her anus rip wide as Greg's erection plowed into her colon. If Ace's initial penetration of her dry pussy had been agony, this violation of her virgin asshole was a thousand times worse! Even the agonies already inflicted on her tortured body couldn't lessen the pain of this latest violation. Wedged as she was between Greg and Mike, she couldn't even move.

Ace meanwhile, noticed that her gag had been removed, and seized the opportunity to stuff his cock into her mouth. He began to hump frantically at her face. Though her involuntary gag reflex triggered each time Ace rammed his monster down her throat, Rachel was only dimly aware of it. Some time during the process, she heard Greg groan as he came in her butt and felt his cock replaced in her asshole, but by who she had no idea. Mike jerked his completion in her pussy and this cock too was also promptly replaced, but Rachel was beyond caring. Sometime during this repeated assault on her body she passed out.

Pain! That was the first thing Rachel became aware of. Pain. Pain in every part of her body. Pain over every inch of her body. The only place that didn't hurt were the soles of her feet. When the men had stripped her, taking her shoes off was just a waste of time. So now, the absence of pain there made it more acute everywhere else. She tried to open her eyes, but couldn't. She tried to move, but couldn't. And with that she passed out again.

When she regained consciousness again, the sun was just trying to lift itself over the horizon. The thought of another sunrise came to her and for a moment she forgot about the intervening period. But then she tried to move and the realization came back to her in force. She could see slightly out of one eye, nothing out of the other. She was able to ascertain that she was lying in the dirt on the side of a steep slope. How long she had been there was a mystery.

As she lay there attempting to gather her strength, she surmised what had happened. The men, having had their fun, had thrown her down the side of the mountain to die. Though part of her cried out for the sweet release of death, a more primal part refused to surrender. She slowly lifted her head and looked about her. And would have screamed if her voice had permitted it! Inches away from her head, staring back at her, was a human skull! So this had been the fate of the other girls who had experienced these men and their company. Once used they were tossed away like trash! She might die yet, but it would not be lying here. That was what THEY wanted!

Inch by slow inch Rachel began to work her way up the slope. It was sufficiently steep that any attempt to do more than inch along on her belly would cause her to slide backwards. She once looked backward and realized the slope she was resting on ended a mere three feet beyond her. It then plummeted straight down over 1000 feet. The skeleton beside her had been halted by a sharp root that had pierced the ribcage. She could only assume that it had been providence that had stopped her death plunge. The men had apparently counted on the drop, and the rapids far below, to eliminate any evidence of their partying. Certainly they had never taken the risk to descend and ascertain that their prior lovemates had indeed gone the route intended.

It was nightfall by the time Rachel had regained the security of the ledge that had been the campsite. Though she had tried, she still had no idea how many days and nights it had been since her ordeal here. The men and all traces of the camp were gone. All save two items that somehow she noticed under a bush. The MRE container from her last meal, and her wallet. Both must have slipped unnoticed from her backpack when the men had left the area. That she, in her brutalized state might notice these items when five men had missed them could again only be providence. She had survived for a reason. And that reason was to prevent what happened to her from ever happening again.

Rachel stumbled over to the stream that raced down the mountainside. Though the cold water was agony to her injured mouth, she forced herself to drink. She then crumpled into a small heap next to a little tree and slept until morning.

When Rachel awake, she still felt the pain throughout her body. It was accompanied now by muscle stiffness from her exertions scaling the slope and her sleeping nude on the ground. But somewhere, deep within, she felt the fire of life burning more strongly. She picked a few crumbs from the MRE container and allowed them to dissolve slowly in her tortured mouth. Picking up the wallet she began slowly, ever so slowly, retracing her way back down the mountain. After only a few steps she realized that her leg or ankle must be broken as each step was excruciating. A piece of tree branch sufficed as a crutch, although the difficulty she had holding it suggested more broken bones in her hands and arms. Also, she could barely breathe through her broken nose and smashed mouth, and when she did the pain in her chest clearly spoke of broken ribs. Her skin had been badly burned by her exposure to the sun. In the midst of her agony, she almost found humor in her mental image of herself: a bashed and bruised naked woman prepared to take on the world with her American Express Card! That ludicrous image was enough to get her through the endless hell that was the trip down the mountain.

It was approximately 10PM when Rachel finally reached the trailhead. As she expected, the area was totally deserted. But there was a phone and she had her calling card! The only person she thought of calling was Rebecca. Since Rachel had no idea of how much time had passed while she was on the mountain, she had no idea exactly where any of her other friends might be. And she did not particularly want to call the authorities. Not like this. But Becky stayed at her Idaho ranch all summer. She'd be there!

Becky picked up the phone on the third ring, wondering who in the hell would be calling at this hour. "Hello?"

The pitiful voice on the phone was trying to say, "Becky. It's Rachel." The sound that came through though was more like, "Ehy. Iss Asel". But somehow Becky knew! "Rach?" "Is that you?"

"Yesss".

"Oh Baby! Are you in trouble?"

"Yesss"

"Where are you?"

The attempt at, "At the trailhead," came out "Aah ha hai hea."

"Listen baby," Rebecca said. "It sounds like you can't talk, but if you can call back in 5 minutes I'll have the call traced. Then I'll know exactly where you are and I can come get you. If that's OK, then just tap the receiver twice."

Click. Click

"OK hun. I'm hanging up now. Call me back in 5 minutes!"

As soon as she hung up the phone from talking to Rachel, Becky buzzed the extension of Frank, the man in charge of security for the family compound. When Rachel called back, Frank immediately began the trace. Within minutes he had the location of the phone and passed the information to Becky.

"It's OK baby. We know where you are. We'll pick you up at dawn."

"Oh hay"(OK), came the pitiful response from the other end.

Becky immediately began making plans with Samantha, the family pilot, to rescue Rachel, thanking God the whole while that her family had the money and resources that permitted her to help Rachel in this, her hour of need.

Shortly after dawn, Rachel heard the sounds of a helicopter echoing through the canyon. A few minutes later, the helicopter was overhead and settled down in the trailhead parking lot. Before it had even fully touched down, Rebecca was out of the craft, racing around the area screaming, "Rachel! Rachel!" She was hardly prepared though for the sight that greeted her as Rachel hobbled toward her. The sickening twist of Rachel's left arm clearly indicated a fracture. Her torso was covered with blood, from the nipple that had been mutilated, and from the other breast which had been sliced open. Rachel's jaw appeared to have been smashed and the sick oozing of her eye did not bode well for her vision. Rebecca half helped, half carried, Rachel back to the helicopter and within minutes they were in the air. Rachel clung to Becky and kept pleading through her smashed mouth, "No Hoshial!" Becky knew that medically a hospital was the best thing for her friend, but she also knew that at the moment Rachel's greater need was emotional. So as the heli- copter headed back to the ranch, Becky radioed ahead to have a medical staff standing by. The rest of the flight she spent cradling Rachel in her arms and mur- muring gentle little nothings to her. It was only after they had landed and the medical staff had taken over Rachel's care that Becky began to wretch and vomit, trying to purge from her system the pain and horror that she had seen in Rachel's eyes, as well as her own disgust at what had been done to her friend.

It was Becky's usual routine to go back to the city at the end of the summer. Not this year though. It was five months before the doctor would let Rachel out of bed. He still hadn't figured out why she was still alive when any of a multitude of things should have killed her. The broken bones in her arm, her leg, and her ankle had all been set. Her broken ribs treated. Her jaw was treated to the extent that it could, but it was still misshapen. Her eye was beyond saving though, and the side of her head still had a pushed in look. The sunburn that had blistered most of her body had healed, but had left horrible scars over most of her body. When she finally could get out of bed and walk around, the best she could manage was an exaggerated shuffle. Apparently her fall down the mountain side had damaged the hip joint. After several months, when Rachel had finally asked for a mirror, she had just stared at it briefly and then handed it back to Becky without any expression whatsoever.

The time eventually came when there was no more the doctor could do for Rachel. Cosmetic surgery could help her face some and reduce the impact of the scars, but it couldn't remove them. Nothing could replace the sight in her left eye. Indeed, it had been so badly damaged that the doctor had been forced to remove the eye and replace it with a prosthesis. As the months passed and Rachel slowly recovered her strength, Becky remained with her, helping in whatever way she could. Rachel never spoke of what had happened, and Becky never asked.

-The Revenge - It was a day in late March, the kind where you can feel in the air that although it may not be warm, winter's grip on the land has definitely been broken. Becky was sitting in the study reading when Rachel limped into the room and sat down across from her.

"Becky," she began. "I've never told you what happened, but now it is time". Rebecca closed the book in her lap and listened attentively to her friend. Slowly, and with great difficulty, Rachel recounted her experiences on the mountain. Throughout Rachel's discourse, Rebecca sat quietly and unmoving, though the tears rolled silently down her cheeks.

As Rachel's recounting ended, Rachel concluded, "I had thought I loved Greg. I had even thought that maybe we would get married. But he had been using me. Maneuvering me so that he could get me up on that mountain. Something for he and his friends to use and throw away. This was not the first time those men had done this. For I don't know how many other years they have been luring women to that mountain, raping and torturing them, and killing them. I don't know how or why I didn't die, but I didn't. And I can't let them do what they did ever again. Becky, you have been so good to me. You've done everything and anything you could to help me. You have been so loving and gen- erous that I hate to ask, but I have to. Becky, help me. Help me stop them."

Rebecca looked her friend through her tears and nodded.

In the months that followed, Frank introduced Rebecca and Rachel to Marsha. Marsha, he said, was now in the security business like himself, but that she had been known to undertake other tasks when called upon. Marsha, he said, was just the person they needed.

Truer words were never spoken. Within weeks Marsha had complete files on each of the men. And had discovered that lately Steve had been going out with a new girlfriend! Marsha poured over dozens of photos of the mountain and the ledge area, topographic maps of the entire region, and whatever geologic studies had been done on the area. Finally it was time to lay out her plan for Becky and Rachel.

Marsha outlined that she and a team of her choosing would proceed up the mountain and 'interrupt' the men when they had assembled there, but before they could hurt anyone else. Once the men had been dealt with, the rock overhang would be blasted loose. Any evidence would be buried under tons of rock in an apparent landslide.

The plan was simple and straightforward, and was immediately accepted. Becky had no desire to be a direct part of it, saying that she would stay at the ranch and host the annual get together of their college chums. Under the circumstances, she felt that she should do whatever she could do to maintain the facade of normalcy. Rachel though made it very clear that she intended to go. Marsha would normally have pro- tested given Rachel's physical limitations, but knowing Rachel's stake in this, she acceded to Rachel's demand. Rachel also wanted to go as she knew that she could never appear before her old friends as she was now. Of course they would have understood, and they would be sympathetic, but the thought of them pitying her was more than she could stand. She knew in her heart that apart from Becky, she could never be close to anyone again. That her experience on the mountain had ripped her away from the rest of humanity.

July 3rd found Marsha's squad moving up the mountain. In addition to Marsha and Rachel, there were four other women, each armed with an automatic pistol, and a fifth woman, unarmed, but carrying a backpack filled with explosives. Marsha had a sawed off shotgun strapped to her pack and a sidearm. All the women carried knives, though from the little Rachel had observed of their 'limbering up' exercises the past several mornings, each was quite capable of defending herself without any weapon at all. Their surveillance had confirmed three of the men going up the mountain the day before, and the other two going up separately earlier today. Along with the three men yesterday was a fourth, identified from Marsha's investigation as Jim, Mike's brother. Steve had been the last one heading up today. And as expected, he had been accompanied by a young woman.

About two miles before reaching 'the ledge', Marsha's explosives expert angled off the trail. She had some serious ground to cover if she was to reach her destination and complete her assignment in the time remaining her. The rest of the party pushed on. Marsha and her team moved easily, and Rachel struggled to keep up with them. But keep up she did and never did she complain or ask for any special consideration. Finally they had reached the bend in the trail that told them that the clearing and their quarry were just ahead. They could hear the mens' voices already slurred by the effects of alcohol. Marsha and Rachel slipped back into the woods under cover, should for any reason one of the men backtrack down the trail. The other four women moved off silently down the side of the mountain. It was their task to work their way around the campsite so that when Marsha made her move, they could appear from over the edge of the landing thus surprising and surrounding the men.

Night fell and the moment was nearly at hand. All members of the team had radioed back to Marsha that they were in position. The rock overhang had been prepared and awaited only the triggering of the remote detonator Marsha carried in her pack. All was in readiness. Marsha began to move forward. In the shadows she was invisible, the mens' night vision effectively destroyed by the brightness of their campfire. Rachel would hang back until her time was right.

"Well, well! Time for some fun!"

The words coming from the camp seemed to Rachel as though directed at her and not the young thing sitting huddled at the edge of this group of drunken brutes. The group, which had 5 members this year, included Greg and now Jim. Steve, as per past arrange- ment, kept his vigil by the fire. A scream pierced the night as the men grabbed the girl and began dragging her over near the fire. Over to that same spot where a year before these same men had destroyed Rachel's life.

Just as the men were throwing the girl to the ground, Marsha's shotgun exploded. "I think that is just about enough of that!" she said. "All of you just kneel down where you are, cross your ankles, and put your hands on top of your head!"

"Fuck you!" swore Mike as the men pulled their knives. Steve, by the fire, rose to his feet with a hatchet in his hand. "There's only one of you and you can't get all of us!"

Marsha said just one word, "Girls", and with that the four women who had crept up behind the men from their hiding spots on the mountainside cocked their automatic weapons. The men heard the sounds behind them, and upon observing the guns trained on them, dropped their weapons and began to assume the position Marsha had dictated. Marsha's team immedi- ately began to move, kicking away the mens' weapons and binding their hands and feet. In a matter of moments, the men were neatly trussed up like pigs on their way to the slaughter, which of course they were.

"Honey," Marsha said to the young girl as she helped her up. "You have no idea of what almost hap- pened to you."

"Nothing was going to happen!" Greg said. "We were just fooling around a little. You know, gonna give her a little scare, that's all."

"Of course that's all baby!" Steve pleaded with the girl. "You know I would never hurt you."

"Is that right?" came a voice from the shadows. The men stared into the darkness as they tried to pick out the person from whom the question had come. They soon saw a figure slowly moving out from the bushes and into the clearing.

"Remember me Greg?" asked Rachel. Greg stared at her blankly and then his mouth slowly dropped open in disbelief. "Oh shit!" was the quiet comment from one of the other men.

"I was in your place a year ago." Rachel said to the girl as she walked towards the fire. "And this is what I am now." The scars, the crooked jaw, the distorted head, the blind eye, all screamed out their testimony as to what Rachel had endured and what might have been this girl's fate as well. "They left me to die. Just like they had left other girls before me. They assumed I would die. But I didn't. And now you won't either." With that, one of Marsha's team detached herself and began to escort the girl out of the clearing and back down the trail.

Chuckie began sobbing.

"I wasn't there!" pleaded Jim. "I didn't do anything!"

"No you weren't there. But you would have willingly done to her what your friends did to me. But since you weren't there and were not a part of what happened to me, then you will not share the same fate as them." Rachel said, gesturing with her head towards the other men. So with that, she took the Marsha's sidearm , walked over to Jim, and shot him in the head. A mist of blood and brain exploded out the back of Jim's head covering Chuckie who began to cry even more.

Despite his bonds, Steve managed to struggle to his feet. "Uh Uh," one of Marsha's team whispered, and quickly swept her knife across the back of Steve's knees slicing the tendons. Steve crumpled to the ground. The team immediately moved to ensure that the rest of the men were appropriately immobilized.

"You wanted to be first." Rachel said to Ace as she walked over to him picking up Marsha's shotgun as she went. "Well, you get to be first again." With that she discharged a shotgun round into Ace's crotch. Ace lay there gurgling as he felt his life's blood slip away.

"And you like to hit people with shovels." she said to Mike. "Well, I can hit back." Rachel picked up Steve's hatchet from the ground and with the blunt end hammered it sharply into Mike's balls. Just in case the first blow hadn't sufficed, Rachel repeated it two more times, transforming Mike's testicles into red mush in the process. As Mike lay there screaming, Rachel turned the hatchet around in her hand, and, with his eyes locked on hers she buried the blade end in Mike's throat.

Steve was already weakened by the blood loss from his leg wounds, and so was only able to look up at Rachel as she came to him. "You people blinded me. An eye for an eye!" she said as she rammed the point of Steve's own knife into his eye. Steve shuddered for a few moments and then died.

"You wanted to carve me up like a Thanksgiving turkey," Rachel said to Chuckie as she knelt down next to him. "Well, I'm going to carve a ham." Rachel reached across Chuckie's chest and drew her knife across his flabby breasts. Tears were rolling down his face as he screamed and cried. "Christ!" she uttered. "You're no man! Why should you impersonate one?" With that she loosened his trousers, pulled down his pants, and sliced away his manhood. As Chuckie lay there screaming, Rachel said to him, "That screaming is giving me a headache!" Accordingly, she stuffed his cock and balls into his mouth and let Chuckie die bleeding profusely and choking on himself.

"Greggie, Greggie, Greggie!" she muttered as she strolled over to her last victim. "I loved you. I trusted you. And you betrayed me. You lied to me. All your sweet words were empty. You really shouldn't say things you don't mean, you know!" Rachel sat down on Greg's chest and sealed her hand over his mouth while pinching his nostrils together. Greg's eyes began to bulge and his head began to thrash as the need for oxygen grew within. When he was right on the threshold of suffocating, Rachel let go of him. While Greg desperately gasped for breath, Rachel reached down, grabbed his tongue firmly, pulled it toward her, and neatly sliced off half of it. "Now you won't lie to anyone anymore." she said calmly. She then began to remove his trousers. "Oh Greggie! Don't worry! You're not going to get Chuckie's treatment. I just remember how much you like anal sex!" Rachel posi- tioned the barrel of the shotgun at Greg's anus, and shoved it as hard as she could. Greg's head rolled and he moaned as the cold steel raped his bowels. "Isn't that nice?" Rachel asked as she pumped the shotgun vigorously in and out of Greg's ass. "Don't you just love that! And it gets better and better until you feel you could just explode!" As the meaning of her words struck him and he looked at her in terror, Rachel pulled the trigger. Greg's insides exploded through his chest.

The silence was overwhelming. Rachel's year of pain and suffering was drained away. Any motivation or direction she had was gone. She had destroyed those who had destroyed her and now there was nothing left.

"Let's go Rachel." Marsha said. "Better get moving."

"You and your team go. I'm not leaving."

"Don't give me that!" Marsha started to say as she reached for Rachel. She stopped though when she saw the bloody barrel of her own shotgun pointed at her. Her team hesitated. They would without hesita- tion kill to save the life of their leader, but this situation was crazy.

"Marsha," Rachel began. " I couldn't have done this without you and your team. But your job is done and mine isn't. There's no need for you to be a part of any more of this." And with that Rachel opened her left hand revealing the remote detonator she had removed from Marsha's pack.

Marsha looked into Rachel's eyes and understood. "Move out!" she instructed her team and they began to walk back down the trail. Rachel was left alone in the darkness. For some time she sat pondering the billions of stars overhead and tried to comprehend just how she had come to this point. In the distance she could see a storm front moving towards her. As the sky clouded and the approaching storm slowly made its was towards her, she could hear the storm's thunder echoing through the canyons. It was appropriate somehow. The thunder would mask other sounds, and the summer rain somehow seemed to be nature cleansing herself of the filth that had been perpetrated on the mountain. Finally, as she felt the first drops of rain splash against her face, Rachel looked up at the rock overhang and pressed the red button on the small box in her hand. All along the base of the overhang she could see flashes of light as the charges detonated. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten. She could see the entire face of the overhang begin to slide downward just about the time the sound of the explosions reached her. Thunder and lightning crashed about her as the storm replied. As she watched more and more of the mountain's face begin to give way and slide downward, Rachel placed the barrel of Marsha's gun to her temple and pulled the trigger.

The End