Chapter 8

Miles's alarm went off early, rousing him from his slumber. Groaning, he swung his legs over the side of the bed, dressed, and got to work. He felt somewhat elated and did not have much difficulty putting the new rules to paper. It was as if his brain had continued working during his sleep, coming up with new ideas and refining others. He was finished with the new set of rules forty minutes later.

The extra minutes left before the kids woke up allowed him time to consider the new man he wanted to become, one with a purpose and much less doubts. The transformation was not complete yet, but it had started and he knew the destination that he wished for. There weren't many questions to be asked or answered anymore; he just had to carry out the decisions he had made.

After pondering the paths that lay before him for a while, he rose and went for a shower. The school was still sleeping peacefully around him. It was rather strange to walk the corridors in silence; it was both soothing and scary to feel all those young lives that somehow depended on him and his decisions, asleep and dreaming behind those closed doors.

Miles showering quickly, rubbing an orgasm out of himself beneath the jets of steaming water before drying himself off and returning to Bear dorm.

Back in his room, he studied more of the files that had been sent by Doctor Perry. It would be days before he could read them all, but he planned on doing just that. Information was crucial, and he wanted to know as much about the situation as was available. The virus was a damned bastard. First, it was prone to mutations, which rendered the creation of a vaccine almost impossible. It was also extremely contagious with a ratio of one to ten, meaning that one infected person could potentially contaminate an average of ten others before succumbing to the virus's over eighty percent mortality rate. It killed most of the infected, leaving the few that survived in a permanent state of fury. These "survivors" were no longer quite human anymore, their brains irrevocably damaged. Finally, the virus also indirectly kills those not yet infected: they are killed by the "enraged" and those that had been transformed into "ferals," as they were now called.

The Shanxi flu was not totally indiscriminate in choosing its victims. Adults seemed to be the foremost target, and particularly women. For Miles, its only redeeming virtue was that boys seemed mostly resistant to it until they matured and reached their later teen years. Girls weren't so lucky, not even the younger ones. Growth hormones and genes were thought to be involved somehow, but in ways that were still unknown. If all of the documents were true, humanity was clearly under the threat of extinction. Society as they knew it was doomed in the very near future.

Pondering all this, he heard the school wake up: doors opening and closing, boys calling to each other, and laughter. He was not on duty anymore, having matters that were more important to take care of. He had to say he almost regretted it. After a few minutes, it quieted down; he knew then it was time for him to go for breakfast. He put on a vest that morning despite the persistent hot weather; it concealed the Glock that he would be carrying at all times from now on.

As soon as he entered the dining hall, he felt everyone's eyes come to rest upon him. The events of the previous day were now known by all, and the boys had been repeating the story again and again in hushed tones over their breakfasts. Their feelings were a mixture of several elements: excitement for the students who loved things out of the ordinary, things that brought changes to the usual school routine; there was also an undercurrent of worry, notably among the older students, the staff, and the teachers, all of whom understood that their world was changing and that the future was uncertain. Clearly, his actions from the previous day had given him some notoriety beyond Bear house. After the novelty of the first few days, he had mostly been an unknown so far. Except for those he had interviewed and the few boys he had had direct contact with. Not anymore, now he was the hero of the day. He had clearly earned the admiration and esteem of many; both boys and adults made way for him when he walked through the hallways. They may also have been impressed and fearful after the gory descriptions they had heard of how he had dispatched Nakata. Miles had to admit that he rather liked it; being seen that way could only help him to better achieve what he had set out to do.

From across the room, Miles noticed Anthony looking expectantly at him; he was seated a bit apart from the others with a blond and rather pretty boy. Miles wanted to look for Sven among the Puma students, but of course, the boy was still in confinement with William at the infirmary. He hoped that he could find the time in his busy schedule to pay them both a visit.

As he passed the Bear tables on his way to the teacher's table, he was greeted with cheers and smiles by Matthew and his friends. He gave the boys a nod of acknowledgment before taking an open spot between Daniels and Fisher.

"Your popularity has grown tremendously, Mister Dunn," exclaimed Fisher, hiding his annoyance with some difficulty. "It appears that you're the talk of the day."

"I did my job. The real hero, if there must be one, was that boy Sven. He was certainly brave, the way he saved his friend's life like that."

"Still, you're the one that put an end to the incident, Mister Dunn. We must thank you for that," said Daniels, before asking, "Have you compiled the list of measures that should be taken to ensure that it doesn't happen again?"

"Yes, everything's ready, that and more. I propose that we review them together right after breakfast and put them into effect right away. Perhaps Mister Fisher could join us and give his opinion?"

"Yes, of course. Carl, you should join us."

"As it was decided yesterday, all my courses have been delegated to other teachers. I'll gladly join you before resuming the tasks you trusted me with, Mister Daniels."

"That's settled then. Let's not lose any time, let's finish our breakfast now, we have a long day ahead of us."

It seemed clear that Daniels was all business that morning and they gulped down what was on their platters in as few minutes as possible. Miles only slowed down for his coffee, which he liked to enjoy to its fullest.

Twenty minutes later, they were in Daniels office, comfortably seated. Miles flipping through his notebook as he enumerated his propositions:

"First, the school gates will have to be closed and watched twenty four hours a day. Each house, Teachers, Bears, Pumas, Eagles, and the administration building will be under surveillance by a teacher or prefect at all times. I will ask everyone that owns a gun or weapon to register it, and I will check to see whether they know how to use it or not. I will personally assure myself that they do, and teach them if necessary. I will, from now on, always wear a gun, as I am doing now."

He took off his jacket to show them the Glock in his shoulder holster.

"The temperature of every individual in the school will have to be taken every morning and evening. Any person showing a fever or symptoms of the flu will be sent to the gymnasium, which will be transformed into a temporary hospital. We will need that much space, which will allow us to keep the infected away from the other buildings. They will have to be restrained and under armed surveillance; the danger of becoming enraged rises after the third day, but better to be safe than sorry.

"Our nurse, Miss Cahill, will be responsible for contacting the local hospital to see what can be done concerning treatment and care. She will be in charge of all medical matters and recruit the necessary personnel. Those working the gym will wear gloves and use the masks stocked a few years back for the H5N1 scare. Although they are out of date and probably useless as shown on the leaflet that went with them, they should provide some comfort for those who will watch and take care of the sick, as they may still provide some protection. Again, better to be safe than sorry.

"Sven and William will stay in the infirmary since they don't show any signs of illness. After a short quarantine period, they can be released. This is more for the reassurance of the staff and student's families than for any efficiency; after all, I myself was in close contact with Nakata and got some of his blood on me. The goal here is to avoid panic and show the students that we are in control.

"As we mentioned yesterday, all the generators will be checked to make sure they are in working order, as well as all of the School vehicles. Inventories of food and fuel will have to be taken and orders will be issued to fill the reserves as soon as possible.

"We must strive to keep the school activity as close to normal as possible, provide a sense of normalcy for the sake of the boys.

"Some of these tasks have already been addressed. There are also some items that may have to be added to the list: weapons for those in charge of the gymnasium, and those guarding the gates and perimeter. I have no idea how many are on campus at this time, and I'm not aware of any means to restrain the sick at this point. Padded manacles would be best, but it probably won't be enough and I'll have to find a way to get those."

"I know a place where we can find them," said Fisher, to the surprise of Miles and Daniels.

"You'll have to tell us Fisher, but let me get to the end first. If we look at the longer term, there is the problem of drinkable water: we need a better solution than bottled water, which is not very practical with three hundred boys."

"There are three wells situated on the school grounds that were used in the early days. We need to evaluate the quality of the water, but it should be good," said Daniels.

"We also have to think of different ways to communicate. First, inside the school for security reasons, we will need reliable walkie-talkies. Then again, it is quite possible that cell phones will be gone when the electrical grid fails. We need to have the equipment to replace them and still be informed of what is going on in the country, as well as keeping our outside contacts."

"It will never get that serious, Dunn. I can't believe it."

"I don't either, but that very scenario is in the documents I received, and I have to take it into account. Satellite phones would be the solution. I'll have to check with Senator Forest and his staff about getting some of those items, some medicine too, and perhaps things I haven't thought of."

"I'm afraid it will not be easy to have all that accepted by our staff and teachers at once, particularly the proposal of restraining potential victims and being armed here on school grounds. We would have to provide them with more information, and be able to substantiate that information with facts, preferably from official documents."

"I understand that perfectly, in fact I'm having difficulty myself believing this whole situation. I don't want to create a panic, either."

"I see," answered Fisher. "So, in fact, I wonder, are you telling us all that you know?"

"I've provided all the information that I've been able to cross-check with my military sources. I'm not a virologist or epidemiologist, so it takes time to discern from the information what is or isn't useful for the protection of the school and all of us within." "Mister Dunn, holding back information is detrimental to our collaboration and creates an atmosphere of mistrust between us," said Fisher.

"I can understand that, but it would not have been prudent for me to pass along the claims or opinions of one individual. Doctor Perry was extremely pessimistic in his declarations, yet now, the news and the past day's events do seem to confirm his speculations."

"Mister Dunn, I agree that we should be careful on what information is shared beyond this room, but between us three, we should have all the information that is available to you."

"Let me be clear, I am not withholding any information from you. A lot of it is redundant, and I haven't gone through all of it myself to know what is relevant to our situation. I gave you the main files, those recommended by Perry to be read first. "

"Mister Daniels and I may be able to help you go through the files, and between us, we can determine what is appropriate to share. I don't want to create a panic either, and I think Mister Daniels and I would have a better handle on what should be divulged, and when."

"Okay, I can give you everything, but then we should have follow-on discussions. I'd like the opportunity to cross-check any information we believe is relevant to be certain that we are dealing with facts and not speculation. You can get lost in all that stuff."

"We are very grateful for that, Mister Dunn, and to Doctor Perry, of course," said Daniels. "I agree we should only release what information is necessary beyond us three, and take things step-by-step. Thanks to the two of you, we will have time to prepare and face the difficult times better prepared and under much better conditions. Having each house watched day and night should be easy. Asking who owns weapons will be a bit more delicate, but after the Nakata incident, I'm sure it will be understood by most. Getting the gymnasium ready to welcome the sick seems possible. We can also organize taking everyone's temperature at least once a day. We will need thermometers, by the way, one for each location, at least. Let's start with that, the rest will be implemented later as it becomes necessary. No need to make unnecessary announcements."

"The weekend is not that far away. I believe if the news gets worse, a lot of the boys will never return to us. The same applies to the teachers and staff," said Fisher.

"That's too bad because this school will be one of the safest places in the days and weeks to come," said Miles, "the boys are mostly immune, and if we are well organized, we should be able to avoid most of the chaos that will develop beyond our walls. We have to find ways to keep as many of them here as we can. Keep them safe."

"Why would they be better off here than anywhere else, Miles? Why not with their families?"

"Because many adults will become sick, and if they do, they'll become enraged like Nakata and try to kill everything that stands in their path. Their families will never be able to treat the sick, as they should, by locking them up or sending them away. In the initial stages, the government will try to remove them from their homes to avoid it, but soon they will be put in the same situation, with too few men left in the National Guard to face the problem. It will be a very bloody chaos. Here we will be prepared and we will use our knowledge as an advantage to avoid the bloodshed.

"There will be, I hope, only a few cases at a time, and not enough to put us in jeopardy. It will not be easy, but I hope Nakata's attack will be the only such incident that the school will have to face. Dealing with the sick, keeping some order and normalcy, as difficult as it can be, will be our goal until the crisis is over. Certainly many of us could die, but we will not have to face rampaging killers, the "enraged," or "ferals," and the boys will make it through. We will also have to get them ready to take our place and manage the school by themselves, if necessary, or at least replace those of us who are gone."

The two men facing Miles showed somber faces.

"Looks to me like you are expecting the worst, like Perry," insisted Fisher.

"You got the files, haven't you studied them?"

"I must say I simply did an overview and did not go into the details. I admit that I was too afraid to delve too much into them. I was afraid to see the scope of it," said Daniels.

"I think it is essential that the three of us know exactly what we are facing. You've got all the numbers in that flash drive; at the last count, an estimated eighty percent of the American population has been in contact and infected by the virus. Of those, they think that only one out of ten men and one out of twenty women will be immune and not develop symptoms. Again, one out of five among the sick will become a feral, and all, I mean all of the others will become enraged before dying. This is not a pretty picture. I read in one of the memos that those numbers were not given by the Chinese who wanted to lessen the severity of their situation, they are estimates, but even if they are not perfectly accurate, they are close to what we have to expect."

At that moment, Miles realized how difficult it was for the two intelligent men facing him to integrate and accept this reality. He had to repeat it all again and again, day after day, which made Perry's worst predictions that much more credible. The people, the entire country, were not ready for a catastrophe of this magnitude. They could not be, and it would be the same all over the world. Daniels was right that they had to do things step-by-step or people would panic, or perhaps worse, people would say he was raving and not take him seriously. He could perhaps hope to be helped by the news: they were now stating facts that strengthened his story. It was all a question of finding the right balance between what could be said, what demands would be accepted now, and what was needed.

"I am a Marine, and though I had a few diplomatic missions in Afghanistan, I think it best if you two, Daniels and Fisher, do the talking and motivate the troops, so to say. This time, you are the ones that know our battlefield strengths and weaknesses; you are the ones that know who we can trust with sensitive information, and who we should not."

"I like it, and I agree wholeheartedly," said Fisher. "Don't you, Daniels? That's what we have been doing for some time now. We know how to run the show; we have been doing it for quite a number of years already. That's one new challenge that I am ready to accept."

"We haven't much choice," answered Daniels with much less enthusiasm, "you have certainly addressed most of the foreseeable problems we might run into in the very near future, Miles. You did a very good job of putting it all into perspective. Now let's see how we implement all of this"

For the next two hours, with the help of Daniels and his staff, they worked on the school schedules: guard duty twenty-four hours, taking temperatures at set times, as well as classes and activities for the students. They wrote notes and statements to be made at lunch, notably concerning the new rules to be followed by all. They also wrote a memo directed to the known, and at this point, unknown owners of weapons among the teachers and staff. Fisher showed a real talent by finding the right words and sentences to make their messages appear both simple and logical in this time of crisis.

They took pauses from time to time to watch the news. China and a few other countries were definitely well on the road to chaos, and some were even beyond that. In the US, news of the "flu," and outbreaks in cities were coming from all over the country. Horror was gripping the Nation as stories of the side effects – the rage that overcomes the sick – and the death toll poured in from every state. The name Shanxi flu and "ferals" were now common, and were being used by all the media outlets. Of notice for Miles, the National Guard had been put on alert in most of the states, meaning that more dire measures were about to be taken. Everything was going too fast. Images coming from China and India were invading the screens, soon joined by reports from the homeland where panicked citizens were attacked while accompanying their sick loved ones to the hospitals; those were flooded with patients and not prepared to face the violence.

In echo to that situation, the local news related the recent events at the Blufton hospital, where a feral had killed eighteen people, patients, and medical personnel alike. The sheriff had had good reasons to be stressed and overworked!

At lunch, the announcements were made, the notes and schedules distributed to all concerned: it was done tactfully by Daniels and Fisher. The Nakata incident helped to make the new rules acceptable by most. There were a few voices demanding that the school be closed and the boys sent home, that it was impossible to work in such conditions. Daniels quieted them by saying that such a measure was being readied and plans were being made by Mr. Ackerton, but that it took time and could not be done right away. "After all," he explained, "there is a procedure to follow."

The air in the dining hall felt electrified, the way it does when standing beneath a transmission tower. Most of the boys were thinking of it as a great adventure, rife with danger and excitement. They had listened to the fabricated stories made of the previous day's fight by those who had seen it and many who did not. Those who had recounted it had added to the tale, making up whatever embellishments they thought more interesting, frightful, gory, or even humorous. The teachers and staff had watched the news and had become nervous and uncertain. Being given sensible directives helped most of them to keep their calm, but there were also those with their own agenda, who wanted to use any opportunity to have their needs come first.

Miles was happy not to have to deal with them, even if he attentively followed the moods and interventions of everyone who spoke up. He was now a man with a mission. Finally, after all those years of doubt, he knew where he stood and what he wanted. As often as possible, his gaze drifted from the fearful or worried adults to the boys that were mostly excited and carefree. He observed that many of the older ones, the prefects, had their smartphones beside them and were using them openly, something that had always been against school policy in the past. Today, however, the rules against phone usage had been temporarily suspended so that families could reach their sons and be reassured by them. Most prefects were focused solely upon their phones now, some typing or reading messages, others simply watching the screens for news and sharing it with their friends. They were not as carefree as the younger ones; they knew something serious was going on.

It was much more entertaining for Miles to observe Matthew and his friends as they talked, joked and laughed during lunch, and also Anthony, who was still giving him longing glances from a few rows behind. Miles loved observing the multitude of boy's faces and their various expressions, trying to guess what each one was thinking about. There were so many beautiful boys in the school, so many he would like to know intimately, certainly too many for one man alone.

He was desperate to keep them all close to him, under his guard and protection. He wanted to keep them safe, of course, as he had told Daniels and Fisher, but wasn't there another, less noble reason? Yes, that was the glaring truth, and he accepted the fact. He was not a perfect man, the hero you read about in books, he was a flawed man with qualities, aspirations, and weaknesses, just like anyone else. He knew intellectually that he would probably die very soon, but he still did not believe that everything could end so soon, before he had achieved at least some of his dreams. His fantasies of flesh and blood were very much alive all around him; so close and yet so far at the same time. Dreams named Sven or Anthony were never far from his thoughts, both boys so different from the few he did have sex with in his wretched past.

After lunch, Miles, accompanied by Joe Abrams, took one of the school vans, and headed out to get the items they would need that were not a part of their usual supplies for the school. The first item, infrared thermometers, would be difficult to get only because of the quantity that was required. The next items were definitely outré for a boys' school and Carl had suggested a discreet S&M shop in the nearby town of Okatie.

The first stop was Fred's Pharmacy, one of the larger chain drugstores. Buying what they had on the shelf was easy, and they used the school's credit card to pay for them at the checkout. They had decided that medical forehead thermometers would be more practical and much simpler to use, considering the number of people they would have to test every day. With a weird look, the clerk said they didn't have any more in the back room when they asked for them. Miles had no clear idea how long they would function, nor for how long they would be needed. He thought that twenty should be good, along with extra batteries. After loading the thermometers into the van, they spotted a CVS Pharmacy, so they stopped off there to look for more supplies. They ended up leaving the pharmacy with Innovo, Avantek, and Braun thermometers, which were said to be the most reliable. They left with twenty-two in all.

The next stop wouldn't be easy. Sexy by Nature, a two-store chain that had recently expanded its selections of S&M gear, was their destination. Carl had told them to ask the clerk to visit the "back room" when they arrived. Miles had been in sex shops before, mostly overseas, and didn't think about what Joe's reaction might be. Getting gag gifts for a fellow Marine was always a fun adventure and full of laughs when he had been back in the Corps, Joe on the other hand, had never been in one before, and seemed a bit edgy. He stayed close behind Miles with his head down, as if he didn't want anyone to see or recognize him.

After looking around a little, Miles told the clerk that a friend had told him to ask to see the back room.

"Ah, yes," the clerk said, pointing towards the rear of the shop, "you and your sub will find what you need there. It's through that unmarked door. Let me know if you need any help, or need to use one of our changing areas to have him try things on."

"Thanks," said Miles, feeling a little perplexed at the response while sending an amused look at Abrams who had turned crimson.

They entered the dimly lit room and saw that they were surrounded by every bondage device known to man. Walking past rows of leather harness, suits, gags, whips, and paddles, they saw what they needed: handcuffs, wrist and ankle restraints, and chains. There were quite a number of different types and styles, but they would all function as required. After quickly assessing the inventory and deciding that they would need the entire stock, Miles sent Joe to ask the clerk for a couple of boxes. Nodding apprehensively, Joe went back out front and relayed the request.

"Looks like you're going to be in for a good time now, aren't you?" the clerk said with a smirk.

Joe didn't bother answering the man; he was already quite embarrassed by the whole thing and wanted to get out of the store as quickly as possible. The clerk didn't seem to understand why they needed so much of the same stuff, but he was more than happy to assist them with their grand purchase.

"After this sale, I might as well close up shop early," the man said with a toothy grin as he helped carry an empty box into the room.

Miles gave him a polite smile and started pulling the cuffs off the rack and placing them into the boxes. After he and Joe carried the boxes to the front counter, Miles reached into his back pocket to pull out his wallet and the school's credit card, which had the school's logo printed on it. Handing the card to the clerk, he noticed the clerk's demeanor suddenly shift.

"Hey, what are you planning to do with all these?"

Miles was taken aback, and suddenly realized how it might look to the clerk.

"Are you from Saint Xavier? I had a nephew that used to go to school there."

The look of incredulity on the man's face was spectacular. Miles had some difficulty in trying to stifle the laugh he felt rising within his chest.

"I can't take that, and I don't think I should be selling you this stuff."

Now the man looked outraged. Miles had to come up with some explanation before it went further. As he quickly tried to think of some reason they might need bondage gear at a school, Joe Abrams gained a bit of courage and surprised him with a quick excuse. "It's for a school play," Joe stated with an unexpected boldness, "it's about slavery in the South, how it was still going on in the nineteen-twenties, how the KKK made sure of that. The law and courts were on the side of the good ol' folks."

"Well, I'm not sure, you two don't look like the theatrical type to me."

"You can call the school if you'd like," answered Joe, "ask for Carl Fisher."

"Oh, Carl, did he send you here?"

"Yes, you know him."

"Well, not really," said the man with a smug expression on his face, "but I know his reputation."

Thankfully, the situation had been diffused and they were allowed to put the gear on the school's credit card. Miles inwardly chuckled at the thought of how the school board would take a huge bill to a sex shop on the credit statement, had things been normal. As they carried the boxes to the van, Abrams commented that he had never expected old Fisher to be known in these parts.

Next, they climbed into the van and cruised around, looking for a few local purveyors for the school, mostly for perishable goods. They tried to convince them to grant priority in their deliveries to the school with startling success. It appeared most of them had already been contacted by Fisher, who was showing great talent as a negotiator.

As they headed back to the school for lunch, Miles wondered about Carl Fisher. More so than Daniels, Carl was indeed of great help in putting everything into effect. He apparently knew the people, the needs, and had all the necessary contacts to get things done efficiently. He was easy to work with and had a sharp mind. They had a good working relationship. They surprisingly both felt very much at ease with each other. Miles had put aside his investigation for an indefinite time and didn't want to let his previous suspicions interfere when he needed the man's cooperation. Whatever had been going on before, Fisher had become the best partner he could wish for, and at the moment, that was all that mattered.

He got along very well with Abrams too, who had a quite agreeable gentleness mixed with a subtle humor. The man was amiable, considerate with everyone including the boys, easy to work with, and always found a simple way to resolve problems. It was a real pleasure for Miles to be with him on those errands, and as they talked briefly on the trip home, Miles almost began to feel as he did with his brothers in the Corps.

After arriving at the school and unloading the equipment into the gym, Miles had a busy afternoon that consisted of coordinating everyone's effort to reach their goal. Then he had a look at the files of all of those that had declared owning a weapon on the campus. He registered them and tried to evaluate in what capacity they could be used efficiently.

***

Carl Fisher was satisfied with his newly acquired status, and even more surprising, was quite satisfied with the way things were going. He had managed to get inside the inner circle with Dunn and Daniels. He was convinced Dunn was still holding undisclosed information from them; he had more or less confessed so. Even though he and Daniels had been told more than the others had, he still felt that Dunn wasn't being completely transparent with everything.

He knew, or rather, he had decided that he would get through this crisis, be among the survivors, and take every advantage of it. The rules Dunn had set for the school gave every indication that he was preparing for the long run and that the Shanxi flu would not be a passing event. What they knew of the situation in China and India showed that life could change drastically all over the world in a very short period, and despite the denial of the authorities and politicians, even their great and powerful country could potentially crumble. Carl, without really falling for it, secretly dreamed of such an event as he considered the possibilities it offered for a man in his position.

He did not believe Dunn when he said he was going to give them all he had and for one good reason: he himself would never do that. He needed Dunn for the moment, and he wanted all the files Perry had sent him. Knowledge was crucial in their situation. Dunn could very well be among the next victims and fall sick without notice. Carl decided that he had to obtain the man's trust and get all those files, or else use other means to do so.

It was close to lunch and it was a perfect opportunity to take some time to relax after the busy morning. Carl went in search of Anthony, knowing that the boy could be just the tool he would need. The boy was still angry with him for Greg's actions at Thorvald's, but some cuddling and the right words would bring him back around. Carl was an expert at manipulation: he had been doing it for years now. He needed all the best cards and an ace up his sleeve for the game he wanted to play. Anthony's hot little ass was the best possible ace he could imagine. Carl was convinced that the boy was so seductive, even a straight man could be persuaded to fall for him.

As he was nearing the dining hall, he caught a glimpse of Anthony talking to Milo. Carl waved the boy over, and somewhat reluctantly, Anthony came to him. Within a few minutes and by using the right words and some promises, Carl was sure he had convinced Anthony of the importance of his mission, It had changed somewhat; compromising Dunn was only one of several goals. He was sure the boy would succeed and become his informant for as long as it was needed, and would also try to find the precious files that Dunn had stored somewhere.

He had to be among the few, or even better, the only other one that had access to all the available information. It would give him the right leverage to gain control for now and much more importantly, for later. He was already at the heart of every decision that was being made for the school; he was a vital interlocutor for all concerned. The club, its members, and its affiliates would be his soldiers. He was not afraid of that Shanxi flu; rather, he was grateful for it. It could become the determining factor of his life. The one that would give him the freedom he had sought since he was young. Destiny was knocking loud and clear on his door. He had turned his back on his family: and now, the school, the club, and its network had become his new anchors. He had learned long ago to hide his true thoughts and feelings, and had developed the needed skills to manipulate and control the people around him. He had been quite successful, and now he would bring it all to the next level.

He had never been able to turn the page of what he considered his only failure. It was the one thing that made him feel the sting of shame, even to this day. Growing up, he had always known that he desired younger boys, and for a long time he didn't have the slightest idea how to really get into their pants. It was just a few months before college. He had tried again and again to lure one of the neighborhood boys or another, using bribes and every other means he could think of, but with no satisfying results. When he realized he had all he needed at home: among his eight siblings, he had three younger brothers, all about the right age.

The arrival of the internet gave him some much-needed clues and suggestions. There was a technique called "grooming" that he tried on all three of his brothers, finally getting some results with one: eleven-year-old Kurt. It was a dream come true; the brat was a real sissy and followed each step with an ease that was almost embarrassing, but also a lot of fun, there was nothing that he would turn down. Soon Carl had tried everything he could think of, it was so easy that he got careless, and on one fateful day, he let his guard down and got caught.

He had thought they had the house to themselves and had found Kurt watching cartoons. The boy was lying on the floor eating pancakes, wearing nothing but a pair of Scooby-Doo briefs. Carl had no consideration for the boy, whom he saw as a mere tool of pleasure that could be used and discarded when finished. Unceremoniously, he had cupped his hands beneath the boy's bare armpits and lifted him from the floor, placing the child face down on the family table. He then pulled his brother's underwear down to his ankles and got to business. With his head forcefully held down against the coffee table, the boy had protested weakly at first, but then went silent as he waited patiently for it to be over with.

It was a raw and energetic fuck, and quite satisfying, too. Carl used the leftover butter from the pancake breakfast as lube, and slid himself into his brother's bubbly ass. Within a few minutes, he was ready for his orgasm. He pulled out and held the head of his cock up to the boy's perineum, shooting his load all over his brother's hairless balls. He watched his seed dripping down the soft scrotum and onto the carpet for a moment, and then he turned around and zipped himself up with a huge smile on his face.

There, standing in the doorway in front of him were his father and mother, and his six brothers and sisters. How long they had been there, he would never know. They did not exchange a single word but stared at the scene with their mouths dropped practically to the floor. Carl immediately went to his room and packed a suitcase, and then he was gone, never to return.

At first, he stayed with friends, and then went to college as he had originally planned. His father paid for his studies and sent him a check every month, a sort of payment that was intended to keep him away from the family. The following year he had found a job; several in fact, and could send the checks back. Due to his excellence and prowess in sports he was granted a scholarship and became totally independent from his family.

He never sought contact with any of them again. He also decided that he would never again be caught, and started to elaborate schemes to satisfy his attraction to boys while minimizing the risks; schemes that he would refine and develop after he found a position at St. Xavier. He soon met with men and a few women who had the same appetites for young boys, but also for other things as well. Carl soon got the hang of helping them satisfy their needs, after his own needs had been met first, of course. He associated with Thorvald, which gained him many advantages and influence on the administration board. To this day, he had never thought it could get better until now. With the virus killing off most of the adult population, he could show who he really was and act upon his desires without shame, censure, or limit. The possibilities were dizzying and endless.

He had been so busy that morning that he had not found the time to call Thorvald. He also wasn't sure if he wanted to share all his information with him. He knew Ivor himself had access to sensitive information with his political and financial contacts, so he decided that he would call later when he knew exactly what he wanted to say. He certainly would not call or warn his family like Daniels had done.

The headmaster had a married daughter and grandchildren living in Atlanta. Dunn had clearly convinced him of the advantages of being at St. Xavier during the crisis, and the headmaster had called her directly after their meeting and persuaded her to bring over the whole family on Saturday. He said that he wanted her to stay for a few days until they knew the extent and gravity of the Shanxi flu. They were lucky so few people were really aware of the situation, or they would have seen teachers leaving or behaving like Daniels and bringing their families to Saint Xavier. No one envisioned the scenario described by Perry. The debates on TV were about politics, the economy, how to protect the country's best interests, nothing was said, yet, of the possible catastrophe ahead. Carl wanted the school to stay as it was, with as few strangers coming to meddle in its politics as possible. For the moment, he held the keys to the situation, and he did not want to jeopardize that position.

So many things to think about, but perhaps he was going too fast. Perhaps it would shake the country briefly, but then the dust would settle and everything would return to normal. Unfortunately, this was the most likely scenario. He had to resist the lure of an apocalyptic future where anything became possible until he knew for sure. He had to prepare for it, but exercise caution. The same caution that had preserved him from being exposed for all those years would continue to safeguard him now. Business had to go on as usual.

It meant that he still needed to find a replacement boy for Ivor. Unfortunately, Sven was out of the picture for now. The man was enchanted with Milo, but Carl knew that he also liked diversity and novelty. There were a few other leads, notably concerning a debt that needed to be paid. It would be a nice way to get even; Carl resolved to work on that for now to help him stay levelheaded.

He might allow himself a few liberties though, since they would probably not be noticed with the shit-storm brewing all around them. Having a boy or two spend the night in his apartment could be arranged, and then there was little Enrico that had been groomed by his brother and had been promised to him. The boy was only ten and had been on his mind for some time now, so tempting since he would be the youngest ever.

He refused to believe that such thoughts invaded his mind because things could go wrong or that he may not make it out alive. One last chance, one final time… No. he had achieved a lot over the years, grooming boys, establishing the club, connections inside and outside the school, and important connections like Thorvald. He would not take the risk of losing all that had been accomplished for a taste of what is yet to come…

What may never come.

The rule he had adopted at Saint Xavier was that he never deflowered a boy; he only had relations with those that were experienced and willing. He had sex with only four or five boys each year, and they were usually no younger than twelve or thirteen, far from the total number of club boys available.

But he might make an exception this one time. A sample of what might become the rule… The list of "would be" candidates was long. No need for any grooming anymore, Carl would simply take what he wanted. That new boy Matthew was high on his list… but he was getting carried away again. Carl had convinced himself that he would be a survivor in this new world and shape it to his desires. But for now, nothing much would change, he would just give himself some more freedom. So, the only thing left for him to decide was whom to choose for tonight.

***

Miles took a quick lunch in his office; after only a few hours, he was already tired of being the hero of the day with all the eyes fixed on him whenever he was in public. After lunch, he started interviewing the school's gun owners and once again, like earlier in the day, it was an occasion to measure his change of status. People listened to him and did not try evading his questions, but rather gave straightforward answers. As of now, there were eight owners on his list. Four said that they owned a weapon for their protection or out of tradition, but had never really touched them and did not know how to handle them properly. They were ready and willing to learn however, which was good, considering the circumstances.

The next three, Abrams among them, either were hunters or had some military experience. They would be the first to be recruited when armed surveillance at the converted gymnasium would be required since they seemed reliable and capable for the task.

The last one was the most unlikely of the list: Miss Simons, the math teacher, with her pinched face and strict appearance. He had been told she was the terror of the school for the students and the majority of the staff. Although uncompromising and demanding, she was also respected because she was fair in her decisions. Miles did not expect the many surprises she still held for him.

"Good afternoon Miss Simons, since you're here, I suppose you own a weapon of some kind. Could you tell me what it is and how long you've owned it, and if you've ever done any shooting with it?"

"Mister Dunn, I'm sure you didn't suspect that I would be on your list. I overheard what you said to Mister Lowell. I am the last one for this day, it seems, and I think the best would be for you to accompany me to my apartment before we go any further. It will be much simpler for the both of us. It might seem strange to you, but you won't regret it."

"I must say I am intrigued. If you're ready, Miss Simons, I'm ready."

They were silent on the way to her apartment, Miles trying to guess the reasons for such a peculiar demand. Five minutes later, they were at the teachers House and soon enough were entering her apartment. There was no surprise there: it perfectly reflected the teacher's reputation and looks. The rooms were immaculate, with everything in the right place and decorated with taste in a classic way, there were some interesting and select paintings and furniture. Mathematics was obviously not her only interest.

"Welcome to my home, Mister Dunn. Would you care for something to drink?"

"No, thank you, that won't be necessary. But I would really like to know the reason for my presence here."

Miss Simons smiled. It was the first time she had done so in front of Miles and it was spectacular. She suddenly became a very different person; her whole face changed. She looked more relaxed and her eyes took on a humorous twinkle. It was as if she had been wearing a mask that had been suddenly lifted away.

"Come Mister Dunn, I won't keep you in suspense any longer."

He followed her into her bedroom that had the same perfect appearance as the other rooms. She opened the double doors of what Miles at first took to be a dressing room, except that the doors looked quite sturdy and had three different locks. As soon as she had turned the last key, she pulled them open together and a light came on. Miles thought he had been transported into a movie scene; a secret agent or super hero scenario where they always had a secret room with rows and rows of spectacular weapons and gadgets. It was not quite what was on show there, but close, and Miles stayed put with his mouth open for a long moment before he could finally say something.

"What the hell? Where did you get all that? Does headmaster Daniels know about this?"

"Of course not, I got them here and there, I've been collecting for a few years now," she answered as she caressed the handle of an AR-15 Bushmaster in an almost sensual manner.

Miles recognized a Ruger 10/22, a Benelli M2 tactical shotgun, an HK G36, and quite a few others including some handguns and other weapons of a more collectible nature. There was a Katana and some other Japanese paraphernalia, cold steel weapons of different periods, bows, and one crossbow. All were presented in order and taste, obviously quite a lot of money had gone into the collection.

"So what do you think, Mister Dunn? Interested?"

"You mean that you would let us use all of these if necessary?"

"That's why I brought you here."

Once again, Miles was speechless for a long moment.

"Well… um… that's extremely generous of you. What can I say? I'm sure I'll be able to make good use of these."

"I have listened to the news and what Daniels announced. There's also a bunch of rumors going around the school. There have been a few leaks after yesterday's meeting, and I fear that these could indeed be put to use shortly. Naturally, I'll keep a few for myself, but the rest are yours."

"So you know how to handle those?" asked Miles incredulously. "All of them, and rather well if I may say so myself."

"You understand that this is rather unexpected."

"I do, yes."

The mask she wore in the school halls was indeed gone, and surrounded by all those purveyors of death she even looked younger, very alive, and dangerous… like a predator well aware of its potential.

"Would you have an inventory for all that? Ammunition?"

"Of course, everything's ready whenever you need it; the ammo is in a locker hidden behind one of the paintings,"

"I'll take that inventory then, for the moment, and call upon you as soon as there is need."

"It's a deal, Mister Dunn. Now how about a drink, would you like a beer or perhaps something a little stronger?"

"A beer, please, and could I stay for a moment longer?"

"Yes, it's my pleasure. Enjoy my lethal toys, and don't forget to lock the doors when you leave. We are in a school after all!" she answered, handing him the keys.

Ten minutes later, they were in the living room, Miles holding a cold Corona and Louise Simons sipping a whiskey.

"Mister Dunn, now that I have revealed one of my secrets, what can you tell me of the situation? What should we expect?"

"Honestly, nothing good."

Miles, after some hesitation, had decided he could trust the mysterious, remarkable lady.

"Could you elaborate? I've heard rumors, but I would prefer the facts."

"You won't like it," Miles said, and then took a swig of Corona.

"I am used to facing adversity, I am not afraid."

"To sum it up and without going into too many details, I'll say that many of us won't see the end of this crisis, and those who do may not be the luckiest ones. Our world will have drastically changed by the time this is over."

"It is that serious then? I must say, that in all honesty, it is the answer that I expected. When you see what's happening in China and elsewhere there is a clear logic. Thank you for your frankness."

"Thank you for your help. I'm afraid your contribution will be invaluable in the very near future."

"Do you have family, Mister Dunn? Don't you want to be with them during such dour times?"

"No, I don't have any close family left. I think my place is here, to do what has to be done and try to save as many of those boys as possible."

"That is a noble cause that I will gladly adopt too. I have never been very sociable and followed my path alone so far. That might have to change, and I am ready to help in any way possible. I have spent most of my free time away from human beings, preferring the company of animals and the wonders of nature."

"I can tell you that your help will be greatly appreciated. Unfortunately, I still have a lot to do today. I hope to have more time when we meet again, I am sure you have an interesting story to tell," he said with a wink.

"I don't really like to talk about myself, Mister Dunn, but we'll see. It was a pleasure to get better acquainted with you."

"For me too; and thank you for the beer, I'll see you at dinner."

Miles left her apartment with the strange and strong feeling that the woman was very likely to become a close friend to him in the next few weeks. If they survived, that is.

***

Miles was passing in front of the infirmary on his way to a late afternoon meeting with Daniels and Fisher, and could not resist stopping in to see Sven and William. They were not completely bored just yet, but tedium was fast approaching. One day of confinement was enough. They had changed into their regular clothes, having ditched their school uniforms and the patients' gowns. Sven's appearance was spectacular; he had a blue sleeveless belly shirt and jean shorts of the shortest kind, something that was seldom seen any more. Harking back to those times when boys showed far more flesh and wore tight clothing that defined every bit of their youthful bodies; displaying their youth for all to see as much as any girl would do. His flat midriff was fully in sight, his beautifully curved butt slightly exposed as the globes exited the bottom of his shorts. It was almost provocative. Was that his intention?

William was more representative of today's fashion, with red Bermuda shorts and a white shirt. They had also gotten back their phones and laptops to pass the time. It was not quite enough though, and they were delighted that Miles had stopped to visit. Cahill was there doing some paperwork and preparing for the move to what would become a kind of hospital in the school gymnasium. The boys dislike for her was evident; one might even think they feared the woman that always wore gloves and a mask whenever she went near them.

Miles could not linger long though, and left reluctantly after a few words with the boys, despite their strong demand for him to stay.

He had tried not to show too much interest in their lean and desirable bodies, letting his eyes only roam for a minute along Sven's perfectly modeled hairless legs, slender arms, ruby lips, long silky blond hair, and his piercing dark blue eyes.

Am I reading too much into Sven's gaze and attitude, he thought. Am I projecting my own desires? The boy had been all over him as soon as he had shown up and it had been difficult to keep the boy at bay. The Senator's son was quite lively too; the dark bruises left by Nakata were unmistakable on each side of his neck despite his attempt to hide them by lifting his shirt collar. Had William not been there and Cahill close by, this visit may have been much more different for Miles. Still, it felt like a giant leap forward towards his previous night's resolve to finally fulfill his life-long aspirations.

***

The meeting with Carl Fisher and Mr. Daniels was quite satisfactory; they had made a lot of progress in just one day. Carl had been extremely efficient in getting deliveries this afternoon from the local suppliers, certainly being one of their more dependable customers. The suppliers were able to fill most of the school's needs, setting them up for the next term. Food and fuel were their top priorities, particularly canned and dry goods, followed by expendable provisions like paper, cleaning supplies, toiletries, and batteries. Reports from all of the department heads showed that everything was coming along nicely.

They were about to leave when Miss Eldritch warned them that an important announcement from the government was to be made at three pm on all channels and radios. Checking his watch, Miles saw that it was less than five minutes away. Turning back into the meeting room, they gathered around the Panasonic widescreen TV and waited in silence and anxiety.

They had expected something big and knew it wouldn't be good, but the news that came shook everyone in the room. The government had declared a restriction of travel an hour earlier, canceling all civilian passenger flights and trains. Only cargo flights and trains deemed essential would be allowed until such time as procedures could be put in place to screen passengers for the Shanxi flu. Citizens were urged to stay at home and avoid any public places or contact with crowds. Schools were closed and only essential workers were to report to work the following day. All non-essential workers were directed to stay at home. The president was going to address the Nation shortly; in the meantime, the National Guard was being deployed in major cities and around the country with strict orders to enforce these restrictions, as well as to provide protection, regulate hospital access, and maintain the peace. It was said the measures were temporary and would be lifted as soon as the situation was under control.

Which probably means never, thought Miles.

"It's getting more and more real," said Daniels, just before he was interrupted by his phone ringing. He answered, listening intently and relaying the message to Carl and Miles as he heard it.

"It's the governor's office…no one is to leave the school until further notice… all students must stay at St Xavier… they will send more instructions in the morning."

"Damn," Daniels sighed, unable to believe the unfortunate news, "and just before the weekend."

Miles, however, was rather pleased with the news. It meant the boys were as safe as they could be, and that he was hugely in charge of the boys' security and well-being from now on. The school would become his world for the days and weeks to come.

As soon as the announcement was over, Daniels and Fisher got to work, calling all the school's local purveyors and confirming delivery of the supplies ordered that they had not yet received. They were reassured that delivery trucks were still on the road, and that almost all of St. Xavier's goods would arrive. They then placed additional orders to be delivered over the next few days. Food distributors had understood that business would go on as usual for them as the government worked to solve the crisis. Usually, the forecast of a large storm caused panic and was enough for people to empty the shelves at the markets. Miles, Carl, and Mr. Daniels certainly understood this, and knew that it would be better to get as much as they could before the situation became drastically worse, and do it as soon as possible.

Once all the school's vendors had been contacted and the additional orders placed, Daniels called his daughter to try to convince her to join him at the school right away, but without success. She believed her over protective father was worrying too much, and they would certainly be safe in Atlanta. To take his mind off his daughter's lack of concern, he started working on the weekend schedule. He did not want to have three hundred boys idle for two days; it was a sure way to meet with some serious problems. He was also using this task to try to keep his mind off his own family's fate, who he knew could soon be in grave danger. If everything Dunn mentioned was true, and the news reports from around the world certainly supported that, this was indeed going to be a worldwide catastrophe.

Miles tried in vain to get in touch with Senator Forest. He hadn't expected to be able to reach the man so soon after the government announcement, but he figured it had been worth a shot. He left a message with the secretary over the phone, and then sat across from Mr. Daniels to help with the scheduling.

It wasn't until eight pm that they finally took a break for dinner, arriving to an empty dining hall. The place seemed gloomy and ominous without the cheerful shouts of the students. It was eerily quiet: a foretelling of things that may come? Normally this would not have caused any unusual feelings, but now with the impending chaos, normal things felt different. They stood in silence as they looked around the darkened hall, each one sharing the same disturbing feeling. Then they headed into the kitchen that Daniels had unlocked with his key, and hunted for leftovers.

Miles' day wasn't over yet. He had to supervise the new daily routine of checking the temperature of everyone in the school, which was done in each house by two prefects. Then he had to make sure that there were watches in place at each assigned location every night. The only enjoyable part of this task was seeing all the boys waiting in line in their skimpy clothing. Most came wearing only their boxer shorts or briefs, and Miles enjoyed looking over the smooth bodies of the boys from the other houses, which he hadn't been able to see in the showers.

Miss Cahill was in charge at the teachers' house and he was told to check daily in there as well, since it was among the adults that the first cases were likely to show up. When he finally arrived back at Bear House, it was just past lights out. There would be no time for a visit that day from Matthew or Logan, yet he had promised Logan some special time alone with him. He decided right then to give the boy a little test; he would see if Logan was as innocent as he looked and if he had drawn any suspicions from the previous evening. Anyway, no one was asleep yet after the day's events.

He went first to Matthew's room to say goodnight, which pleased the boy immensely and showed he was assuming his new role of surrogate father; the boy was still grieving after his father's message. Then, he went to Logan's room and picked up the surprised and delighted boy from his bed. Logan squealed with delight when he realized that they were heading back to Miles' room. The man certainly needed it as much as the child did; some distraction from these stressful times…and perhaps a little more.

Logan was very excited about getting to spend some alone time with him, and as he carried the giggling boy to his room, he had to fight the urge to give the boy an "Eskimo kiss" by rubbing his nose against Logan's. Miles opened the door to his room, playfully tossed Logan onto his bed, and then shut it behind him. Logan sat up, beaming at him with the pride of being "chosen." He was clad in his usual bedtime garb, a plain white t-shirt, and a pair of light blue boxer shorts.

"So, what do you wanna do?" Logan asked.

"Anything you want, bud."

Logan looked around the room, searching for something fun to do. Miles watched him carefully, wondering if the boy might have the potential for more than mere friendship. Logan was a boisterous ten-year-old, and although he was younger than what Miles usually looked for, he was as cute as a button and Miles could see him as a possible partner. If nothing else, if it was established that Logan was interested, they could begin with a little "playing around" and advance to more sexual things later on, when Logan grew older.

The boy's eyes settled on Miles's computer, and Logan pointed at it.

"Can I play on your laptop?" he asked eagerly.

Miles nodded and sat down on the bed. Without his asking, Logan climbed up onto his lap and settled himself against Miles's chest. Miles slid the laptop desk closer so that the boy could play on it, and soon Logan was lost in a game of Dungeon Hunter 5, excitedly commenting on it whenever he was in the midst of a battle. It replaced the flow of questions that had defined the boy's previous encounters with the man.

Miles could feel an erection building up beneath his boxers. He gently shifted Logan on his lap so that it was more comfortable. His cock was rock hard and lying against his body, pointed up towards his stomach. While the boy played, Miles carefully slid himself down a bit, so that Logan was sitting directly on his lap. He stopped when he could feel his cock lying in the cleft between the boy's tender cheeks, and then he slowly started to grind himself against Logan's bum. Not too much, he did it very slowly and softly. He didn't want to be too obvious in case Logan wasn't interested. For once he wasn't asking himself whether what he was doing was right or wrong, he was simply acting on his urges.

After a few minutes of this, Miles felt bolder. He repeated what he had done with Matthew a few nights ago, resting his hand upon Logan's bare thigh and subtlety inching it upwards every thirty seconds or so. When he reached the edge of the boxer shorts, he found that they were too tight for him to slide his hand inside without being obvious, so he simply continued over them. Logan was totally oblivious to it, squealing with delight as his character killed a difficult enemy.

The boy raised his arms in victory, and Miles took advantage of the momentary distraction to complete the journey of his wandering hand. As Logan settled back into his lap to move on to the next stage, Miles felt the small bulb of the boy's penis head beneath his fingertips. It was of an average size for a ten-year-old, but it still felt so tiny to Miles; so tiny, and yet so wonderful.

The boy's focus was still on the game, so Miles did a little exploring with his fingertips. He very gently felt the boy's head, moving down around the corona. He then carefully moved further down the shaft, which felt like a pencil between his fingers. It felt to be about as thick as one of those Ticonderoga Beginner's Pencils that Kindergartners often used, and around two inches [5 cm] soft. No doubt, it would feel much thicker when the boy was hard, and would make for a very yummy lollipop.

He moved down further until he reached the boy's balls. He didn't want to roll them around between his fingers as Logan would notice, so instead he tried to estimate the size by merely rubbing his thumb across each of them. They felt about an inch [2½ cm] long and around three-quarters inches [2 cm] wide. He gave them a final stroke and returned to the boy's shaft.

His own cock was throbbing in the cleft of the boy's bum. Logan didn't seem to notice, but continued to play the game, his eyes glued to the screen. Miles placed his thumb and forefinger on either side of Logan's tiny shaft and slowly started to move up and down. If he could get the boy hard, it would be much easier to move on to the next stage. Perhaps he could pretend to notice that Logan was hard, and after saying that he was hard too, Logan might suggest that they compare erections. If not, Miles would try to think of some way to bring it up himself.

Suddenly, Logan's hand dropped from the mouse. He turned and looked at Miles, the questioning eyes searching his. Instinctively, Miles pulled his hand away a few inches, resting it back on the boy's thigh.

"You touched my wiener," Logan whispered and blinked at him.

"I did?" Miles feigned surprise, "oh, sorry."

"It's okay," Logan said with a grin before turning back to the game.

Miles wanted to go further, but now he was nervous. He thought that Logan was too distracted by the game to notice, and he hadn't meant for Logan to feel it. The reaction had not been what Miles expected, and now he felt more confused than ever. Logan had smiled and said it was okay, did that mean that he didn't mind Miles fondling him, or that it was okay that it was an accident? If Logan had been hard it would have provided a better answer, but the boy's small cocklet was still soft as ever. What did it mean? He had feared the previous night that the boy had felt his erection, and may have come to the wrong conclusion concerning his relationship with Matthew. It obviously wasn't the case and the boy appeared quite sex innocent.

Miles decided to stop trying to feel Logan's cock, and instead turned his attention to the boy's ass that was still pressing against his erection. Very carefully, Miles edged himself, pressing himself up firmly against the boy's bum until he felt close to cumming, and then relaxing until the building orgasm subsided. He then slowly pressed himself up again and repeated this process several times.

When he felt that he could take no more, he told the boy that it was getting late, and that he had better head off to bed. Logan yawned and nodded his head, and then turned around and looked at Miles again.

"Thanks for letting me play with your computer and hanging out with me. Can we do it again sometime?"

"Sure bud, some other night."

"Awesome, thanks!"

Logan surprised him again with a quick peck on the cheek, and then the boy was up and bounding across the room. Miles watched the boy's bum cheeks shifting as he walked away, and as the boy reached the door, he turned and waved at Miles before leaving the room. Was he hard just now? Miles wondered. He couldn't be sure, but as the boy had turned to wave it almost looked as though the front of his boxers had been beginning to tent up the slightest bit. His next visits would give him the opportunity to test him again.

Now that he was alone, Miles quickly pulled off his boxers and lay back on his bed. His cock was harder than ever, and he had barely touched it before it was pulsing and shooting cum all across his stomach and chest. The orgasm was so powerful that some of the cum even splashed against the bottom of his chin, and Miles had little doubt that he could have hit the ceiling if he had wanted.

***

The proclaimed restriction of travel was a mixed bag, no one knowing exactly what it meant. The next morning several parents living close to the school came to fetch their children. Daniels explained that he had been ordered to keep them at school, but nevertheless, a few left with their child. Nothing could be done against it. Three teachers also decided to leave and go to their families in the few hours they had before it probably became impossible. Daniels tried to appeal to them, but to no avail.

The next three days were more of the same, with a lot to do and not much time for anything else. It was a time of doubt with lots of contradictory news and many announcements. It was evident that nobody at the White House knew exactly what had to be done, or if they knew of what to do, they didn't know how to go about doing it. One thing was certain though: the Shanxi flu was taking a greater toll every day, with the number of diseased growing as well as the number of aggressive assaults by the enraged. It did not seem to reach a dangerous level for now, but Miles' contacts in the military told him they were worried and that their capacities to respond to the menace efficiently were already disrupted and diminished.

Senator Forest had finally answered his messages and sent them some military equipment, most notably: walkie-talkies, satellite phones, and medical supplies. He had also promised them a medical unit as soon as possible, complete with a physician and an escort to help Miss Cahill.

Most of the deliveries had been obtained and business was still being conducted even with the travel restrictions. It seemed that people were more concerned with making money than with their own personal safety and well-being. There were clashes in the cities and some looting and riots reported in the news, but all-in-all, things were fairly quiet around St. Xavier.

Everything changed on Monday.

***

It was on Monday morning that it became clear that civil unrest had become rampant across the country. The vast majority of people had chosen to stay home over the weekend listening to the doom and gloom news which was now being broadcast on every channel. Governors from thirty-nine states, Puerto Rico, and Guam had called out the National Guard to try to restore order in their major population centers. The rest of the states were expected to follow suit today. The voluntary quarantine was ineffective. People had started stockpiling everything they thought they might need to make it through this crisis: food, water, ammunition…. It was clear that this, declared an emergency situation by the president, was not going to get better any time soon. Many people were panicked and preparing for the end of the world.

At 9:00 AM East Coast Time, the Emergency Broadcast System was activated by the President of the United States, taking control of all television stations, radio, and the UPI and AP press teletype machines. Martial law was now in effect in all states, territories, and commonwealths of the United States. And further, the president was taking immediate control of the Army National Guard to enforce all quarantine restrictions and try to restore order. The distribution of food, medicine, and supplies would now be under the control of FEMA (Federal Emergency Management Agency).

Citizens were told not to leave their homes for any reason, unless explicitly allowed under the martial law rules. Medical personnel would be notified by local authorities, food distribution workers would be notified, as would all other essential personnel who would only perform the specific work assigned to them. Checkpoints were being setup immediately for stricter enforcement. The sick were not to go to the hospitals or clinics; instead, they would be collected by National Guard personnel and brought to facilities being set up in conjunction with the US Army for treatment.

Until then, nothing at St Xavier was really out of the ordinary. Classes and sports were taking place as usual except that Saturday sports were intramural because of the travel restrictions. On Sunday morning, there had been a special and rather emotional service at the chapel with the whole school attending. There was reinforced security and people on watch, and lines formed in the evening to check everyone's temperature.

With Miles and the few others that had access to the files, the staff and some of the older students were now in a similar state of worry. The younger ones were more annoyed at having missed a weekend and having classes when they would have preferred to enjoy their free time. Some missed seeing their parents. Still, most of them were rather confident that it would pass, and that in a few days all would be back to normal.

Many didn't really care about what was going on in China and other faraway places, but a few were directly concerned. About twenty students were from an Asian country, and even though they had spent most of their lives in the US, they were still of that nationality. Many others were from Europe, and Central and South America. Daniels had to organize some special support for those students concerned about their country and the fates of their families. Use of phones and other electronic devices was now granted at all times for the students and for good reasons.

The promulgation of the quarantine was a blow for all those that had trusted in the infallibility of their country. Daniels called an assembly that same afternoon for all personnel. He wanted to prepare them for the next few days, perhaps even weeks, and give them the right messages to relay to the boys. It was time to rally the troops and make sure that the staff and teachers kept singularly focused with an identical goal, which was the headmaster's rightful obsession: the well-being of the students. He also knew that they would have to find alternatives to classes; they could not go on this way for long; the boys would become unmanageable. He already had a few ideas for that.

Then a second blow came from Miss Cahill. They had decided to provide more security by checking temperatures in the mornings as well as the evenings. Much to their collective dismay, the first would-be victim of the flu had been found on campus, and contrary to all expectations, it was a boy – one that Miles knew and saw every day. It was one of Matthew's roommates, young Ke Hui Kwan, the boy with a sweet tooth that knew how to fix things as he liked to say himself.

Miles was the first to find out. Cahill had called him right away, saying that she had ordered the boy to stay in his room for the moment with his roommates. Miles called Abrams to ready a bed in the gymnasium and promised that he would bring Ke there after he had assessed the situation. With a heavy heart he made his way to the dorm room, and opening the door, he found the four boys seated on their beds, looking rather distressed. Omar Seku was outside the door, standing guard.

"No need to look that way boys, I'm sure all will be fine. Ke, how do you feel?"

"Not very good, sir, hot, tired, and I have a sore throat."

"Could be a simple cold," said Johnny hopefully.

"Yes, of course, nothing is sure. Miss Cahill will have a good look at you and Senator Forest promised us a real doctor; he should be here anytime now. I'll have to take you to the gymnasium though, which has been set up with beds."

"Can't that wait? Can't I stay here 'till I get better? I'm not that sick."

The boy was close to tears and finished his question with a dry cough.

"Yes, he can stay! We don't mind, we'll watch over him," said Matthew.

"Unfortunately, that's not possible, boys. You're being put in quarantine…all of you. Nurse's orders." "But why? We're not sick."

"No, but you were in close contact with Ke. You'll be put in the infirmary with Sven and William, think of it as a vacation with no classes or chores for a few days."

That perspective did not seem to appeal to them; they knew the two boys were locked-up in the infirmary.

"Will Bob be able to come visit me there?" asked an alarmed Matthew.

"I don't think so, but, really, it's only a question of having you under observation for a few days."

Miles' thoughts ran to the size of the infirmary, and how it could soon be too small to hold everyone that needed to be quarantined, even if it were for only a few days.

"I'll tell you what; I'll come stay with you at the infirmary. I was in contact with Nakata myself, and you'll need some supervision. Walt will help me, I'm sure. It will be easier for me there too, since it is central and much better situated than Bear House. Plus, I need to be close to the action. Whaddya say?" Miles asked expectantly thinking, I'll be very close to Sven and able to watch over Matthew.

At last, there was some real enthusiasm from the boys.

"Yes!"

"Great!"

"Really? You'll do that?

"But what about Ke?" It was Matthew again.

"I'll visit him often and with some luck he'll get better soon and be back with you all."

He saw from Walt's expression that he was not very convincing, but that was the best he could do.

"I'll take Ke to his bed in the gymnasium now. Omar will escort you to the infirmary; you can all take anything you want as long as you can carry it."

"Our phones too?" asked Johnny

"Yes, everything you might need… and don't forget your toiletries and toothbrushes!"

Turning to Ke, he saw how miserable the poor boy looked, more so in comparison to his friends as his fate was now looking far worse.

"Come on Ke; let me help you get ready. Once you take your medications you'll feel much better and you might be cured in no time."

Miles was feeling guilty. By trying to appease the other boys, he had made Ke even more dejected. Five minutes later, they were on their way, Miles as ill at ease as the poor boy. Abrams met them at the door to welcome them.

"I set up a few beds. The place is so big that having only one bed seemed uncanny."

"You did well," answered Miles, "thank you."

Until this moment, the place had still been used for sports, why close it before it became necessary? They had brought a few extra beds from the reserve, some medical equipment, and the restraining tools that they had stored in the back.

"How do we proceed now?"

Abrams was caught by the absurdity and sadness of the scene: two grown men guarding a boy as if he was a menace to them, ready to jump at their throats. Still, Miles knew that if they did not do it as it should be done now, it would become impossible to keep it up later, with random rules left to the decision of whoever was in charge at that time. They had to respect the regulations to the letter; they had no choice.

"Come on Ke, pick a bed."

"Okay."

The boy was broken, intimidated by the place that seemed strange and menacing, despite the fact that he knew it very well. He had already spent so many hours there doing gymnastics and many other sports. He looked around the place and began to cry softly.

"Do we have to do it this way? He's just a kid," tried Abrams.

"We have no choice. If we don't, we lose." Miles' voice was strained. "Ke, you're a smart boy, do you know why you're here?"

"Yes, Mister Dunn, because of the flu." He answered between sobs.

"You know what happens when people get it towards the end?"

"They die." More sobs followed by a cough.

"Yes, Ke. But before that, they become dangerously aggressive."

"Yeah, I know."

"Good. Let me tell you first that we're not even sure that you have it. As Johnny mentioned, it could be nothing worse than a bad cold." Miles himself didn't believe his words, but he tried to put as much conviction into them as he could. "As I said, you could be out of here in no time."

"Yes, I'll get better. I actually kind of feel better already; can I go back to my room this evening if the fever's down?" There was so much hope in the boy's words that it hurt.

"I can't promise you that, Ke. It seems a bit early, but I swear to you that you'll get out of here as soon as you feel better again. Deal?"

"Deal," the boy answered, sniffing miserably.

"That's better. Now, you'll have to be courageous; Miss Cahill will be here shortly and she'll give you your medications. Take them even if they taste bad, like a good boy. There's one more thing we will need you to do."

"Yeah, what it is?"

The boy's tears had more or less stopped, but Miles still had the most difficult part left to say. The words didn't want to leave his throat.

"We have to… restrain you… as a safety measure. You heard what I said a minute ago…"

The sparkle went off in the boy's eyes, and his face suddenly aged by a few years. He now fully understood what would be his fate.

"Restrain me? How?"

His tears had dried but he was invaded by a terrible sadness. Abrams pulled a chain with handcuffs at each end from a box, looking as though he was about to start crying himself.

"We will fix it to your wrist but with the chain you will be free to move around as if it wasn't there."

Miles soon realized it would not be so easy. The handcuffs were for adults, way too big for the boy who could slip out of them easily. He should have thought of it to avoid complications to an already delicate situation.

"The ankle," said Abrams.

"Sorry?"

"You could put it on his ankle. That should work."

"Yes, I guess we'll have to. Thank you, Abrams."

Three minutes later, Ke was restrained on his bed. He had chosen the one closest to the wall, and the handcuffs were in place, one around the boy's ankle, the other around the bedpost. Miles wanted to leave as quickly as possible, but he stayed to talk to the boy until the nurse arrived. After Miss Cahill finally came and had given Ke his medication, Miles left him with the promise that he would be back later.

As he walked across the quad, Miles realized that they had a few more problems to deal with. The handcuffs and chains would not be enough; the enraged could drag the small beds along with them, menacing all those around them. They would be unmanageable. When it was closer to the end, the sick would have to be strapped to their beds or put out of their misery. No one was ready for that yet, and no one would be for quite some time. Miles hoped they would find a way to avoid those extremities, but he wasn't sure of it. Priorities had to be set.

He had spent a full hour with Ke, but the assembly was still a few hours from now. Miles felt drained, having no energy for the multitude of chores and decisions ahead. He stopped by his office and put his desk in order, and then opened his computer, trying to make sense of the new files he opened. It did not work; only one thing was occupying his mind: go check on the boys at the infirmary, hear their voices, touch them, and be with them. It was the only cure he could see to his present state. He felt crushed and powerless before the task he was facing, and this was only the beginning.

He knew he was right about the isolation and restraints; he had no other alternative. He had done the right thing with young Ke, even though it was heart wrenching, and his mood and all of his being suffered from it. He had rarely felt this way: when he had lost some of his men; when his parents that he loved dearly had passed away; those were natural events of life. But the flu and its consequences, his own death among them, was on an entirely different scale. He had to react, do something; he could not stay like this.

Pushing back his chair, he left his office and went to the infirmary, which was only a few dozen feet down the hall. The place was surprisingly quiet when he entered and the welcome desk was empty. He walked past it and went straight to the dormitory where he had met with Sven and William the day before.

The atmosphere was indeed quite subdued as he entered; most of the boys were on their beds reading or playing video games on their phones and iPads. The only one that stood out of the bunch was Matthew, who was gesticulating in front of the window in silence, looking like a mime chasing away an imaginary bee.

Walt was clearly in charge of the place, monitoring the boys' activities from his own bed, and seated beside him was Sven, looking as appealing as ever. It seemed Walt was helping him with his homework. They looked quite close to each other, almost intimate. Suddenly, as soon as he noticed Miles, the much larger boy separated himself a bit from his young charge.

Was that a sign of embarrassment on his part, Miles wondered, was there something going on between those two? It could explain Sven's attitude with him. Maybe his innuendos were for real. It might complicate things though, since Miles did not want a third party to be involved or have knowledge of his attraction for the young boy. It would make their cohabitation more delicate and now he realized that caution would have to accompany any step he took to get closer to Sven.

Miles acknowledged Walt and came closer to Matthew, wanting to know what all the hand waving was about. It was Bob of course, who had come for a visit between classes and was similarly signaling and making faces at his sequestered friend.

Miles was finally smiling again, and seeing that adorable little pantomime warmed Miles' heart, making him feel better after the situation with Ke. Miles inhaled deeply; the room was fragrant with the smell of boys. This would be his paradise for the next few days. His own bed was separated from the main dormitory by a single heavy curtain, and there was a small desk and a nightstand beside it. At last, his presence was noticed and the boys hurriedly left their books and devices to gather around him. Matthew showed his usual enthusiasm and beat Sven by being the first to jump into his outstretched arms. Walt had not moved, but looked intently after the boy who had so suddenly left his side.

"How is Ke?" asked Johnny.

"Not too well, I gotta admit; not only because he is sick, but also because he is alone in that big gymnasium. I really wish I didn't have to leave him there." Miles had decided early on that he would tell them the truth and not make up stories. The boys deserved that much.

"And we can't go visit him, I suppose," added Matthew.

"Indeed you can't do that, or even leave this place."

"It's been so boring being stuck here," complained Sven.

"Yeah, we're like prisoners. We didn't do nothin' wrong and it's not right," elaborated William, "I told my dad!"

"But you're gonna come and stay with us, right? Sleep here?"

It was Sven again, who was pointing at the curtain that concealed his new living quarters. The boy's eagerness and excitement was plain on his face.

"Yep, that's right, Sven. I'll stay with you 'till the end of your quarantine."

The nurse's recommendation, given by the medical authorities, had been a quarantine of ten days, but he doubted it would be that long.

"I hope it lasts forever then!" No one really noticed the boy's rather excessive enthusiasm except for Walt, who frowned slightly. What's the relation between those two, wondered Miles again. He could not resist touching the boy any longer, he caught Sven by his neck and brought him against his chest, moving Matthew slightly aside to make room. Sven's skin was warm and soft, almost silky. Miles let his hand slide slightly under the boy's t-shirt collar and rest there, not caring if Walt disapproved. He reveled in the sensation, and thought he felt a small shudder pass through the boy's body at his touch.

"I don't think it will last that long Sven, but it sure looks like I am very welcome. I'll go fetch my stuff later, you guys are gonna see a lot more of me over the next couple of days," and looking up, Miles added, "I hope you boys won't get too tired of me by the end."

"Never, Mister Dunn, we like you." Johnny threw his voice into the chorus.

"I feel flattered boys; you all seem to get along pretty well."

"We were happy they came here," said William, "after five days it was getting boring with only the two of us. It'll be more fun this way."

"I'm happy to see you are doing as well as can be, but for now, I have to go, I've got a lot to do yet. I'll leave Walt in charge here; can I count on all of you to behave?"

After a round of confirmation and another moment to enjoy the contact of the two slight and young bodies against him, he regretfully stepped aside and left the infirmary. His energy was back, he was smiling again, and he had to use his hand to shift his erect cock and give it some room.

***

The assembly started at two that afternoon in the faculty-meeting hall, with over sixty people attending. Although the weather was bright and sunny, the atmosphere of the gathering was somber and quiet. All personnel, including teachers, cooks, and janitors were there. Only Abrams was absent as he was still on duty at the gymnasium. All classes and extracurricular activities had been canceled for the afternoon, and the students had been left under the supervision of the prefects.

The Headmaster was in charge of the speech and was assisted by Carl Fisher and Miles Dunn. Daniels had been preparing his presentation for a few days now, examining and reexamining every word to make sure it gave all the necessary information without creating a panic. Perry had announced the quarantine so there had been time to prepare; they just hadn't expected it to come so soon. Had Perry called one week earlier, they could have done a lot more to secure the school and ensure the survival of the students.

For the three of them, it was more or less a repeat and review of the many meetings that had taken place over the previous few days. The reactions were all quite similar, and Daniels and Fisher handled them expertly by trying to alleviate the concerns while exposing the gravity of the situation they were facing. Daniels, once again, wanted to keep everyone focused on one objective: their dedication to the school tradition by providing the best for the boys they had in charge. Miles' role was put forward, and all those present were asked to alert him of any problems immediately. They would make it through in the best way possible as they always did, with professionalism and heart. The speech ended with applause; Daniels knew how to speak to his audience.

There were a few dissonant voices that were heard, but they were marginal and did not overtake the feelings of hope that most held. The news that a military medical unit was expected at any moment now, helped subdue these worries a lot. Miles suppressed the fact that they had been waiting for it for several days and that he was beginning to doubt it would become a reality. He realized that other priorities might have been set, despite Senator Forest's recommendations.

They asked for volunteers to take care of the sick at the gym and other tasks no longer filled due to the quarantine and the end of any outside help. Daniels stressed to them that it might become necessary in the very near future to help out above and beyond their typical routines. It was a kind of "call-to-arms" and ended with the singing of the National Anthem. Miles, Daniels, and Fisher considered the assembly a success and thought the school was in the best possible condition to face the upcoming days. A second assembly for the prefects was to take place at five pm, and they hoped it would go over as well as the one with the teachers had.

Miles had scheduled some weapons handling and shooting practice for the gun owners that were unfamiliar with their firearms, and he asked Louise Simons to help out. She readily accepted and showed both flawless knowledge and proficiency at the task. Miles was again taken aback when he saw how easily she adopted to her new role.

They had gathered at a small patch of ground behind the mechanics shop, safely away from the prying eyes of the students. It had temporarily been transformed into a shooting range. They had set up a table where the guns, earmuffs, and ammunition were stored. Miles, most of all, wanted to avoid any accidents and insisted upon using caution, he assessed the owner's capacities, and with Louise, showed them the way to accomplish what would be required of them. After a single hour, he knew she could be trusted and had given her the role of instructor for all weapons related matters. She freely confirmed it by saying that she was also quite competent in several fighting techniques.

"Tell me," Miles couldn't help but ask, "were you in the military? Do you have a double life?"

"Not that I recall, Mister Dunn."

Her response was short but accompanied by that now famous smile that totally changed her appearance. Miles suspected that she may well have other hidden talents, and decided he had to learn more about the mysterious and remarkable lady. Her story was worth being heard, that was a certainty.

The teachers who were present seemed as surprised as Miles as they, too, discovered Miss Simons surprising talents. They knew she was reclusive and did not mingle much, preferring the company of her horse and the wonders of nature over that of other people, and that she immersed herself as often as possible in the surrounding countryside. Some even suspected she sometimes liked to hunt, but they had never seen her handle or use weapons. After they had finished, everyone collected their now more familiar weapons and left for their respective dorms. That is when Miss Simons held Miles back.

"I see you are working closely with Carl Fisher."

"Yes, Louise, he's been very helpful the last few days. He seems to have all the right connections."

"I've known him for more than ten years now, and I wanted to warn you. He has two faces: a kind and pleasant one, but also a more secret one, hard and unforgiving. Please be very wary of that man."

"You don't like him." It was a statement, not a question.

"Exactly, you nailed it. But it's not only that, there's more to it. I sincerely believe that he is not to be trusted."

Miles did not tell her that during his investigation, he had had some suspicions regarding Mr. Fisher himself. He did not have the time to go into it now, since the prefects' assembly was starting. For now though, what he thought about was the man's efficiency. For that reason, he really could not do without Fisher, who at this stage had become his indispensable and greatest asset. The man had not shown any duplicity and Miles felt no reason to doubt his loyalty. In the end, they were all in the same boat. It was in everyone's interest to stick together.

The prefects assembly went faster and easier than the previous one. There were only twenty-four of them, and most had been glued to the news channels on their phones and other devices for days and understood quite well, what they were told. Unfortunately, there were too few of them. Miles, in anticipation of the expected dwindling number of able adults, had asked each of them to give a name or two of boys that might be worthy of promotion, but only those fourteen or older.

It was only the beginning; if Perry's estimates were right, in a few weeks mostly boys would be left to manage the school. The challenge would be to start preparing them for it as soon as possible. It was a formidable undertaking, but they would have to learn how to use their talents quickly.

Miles noticed the strong presence of Greg Sutton and his friends among those in the audience. The boy's complicity with Carl Fisher was revealed several times also, reminding Miles of what Louise had told him only a few minutes before. Yet once again, he ignored it, wanting to focus solely on the problems at hand.

He would address it later by asking Walt to list the names of reliable boys. He thought he knew him rather well now; trusted him; his good sense and heart.

***

While the assembly was taking place on the field, Anthony and Milo slipped out unnoticed for the purpose of enjoying some sex. It was simple and entertaining, and the activity he loved most.

The free time offered by the assembly had to be well used. He had skipped the surveillance of Lewis thanks to the confusion that reigned in the school that day, and with Milo in tow, they had been looking for the right place to have their fun. They first thought of going to the Shop building for some privacy. Some unused rooms had been set up there by the bigger boys and were commonly used for illicit activities such as smoking, drinking, and occasionally, sex. Some even said they brought outside girls there from time to time since it was rarely used. This did not seem very likely to Anthony, but he thought it might be possible.

When they arrived at the mechanics building, he saw some of Greg's friends hanging around the area; he did not want a confrontation with the prefect himself, and so the idea of using it was quickly abandoned. They had strolled around the campus for a little while, dodging prefects and discussing where they could go to have a little fun.

Anthony considered himself lucky that there had not been any retribution for telling on Greg…at least, not yet. He was sure it would come sooner or later since Greg was not of the kind to let things like that pass. Anthony knew that Carl's protection was only temporary, and that Greg would eventually find a way to get to him. Directly or not, the prefect had been very clear about it. As long as he could avoid it, Anthony was not going to expose himself and risk a confrontation.

He also doubted Carl's words. The man had promised him that Greg would never lay a hand on him, but when it had happened, there was never any talk of any reprimanding, and Carl didn't seem to take it all that seriously. It was as if the boy's complaint was of no consequence. Anthony had played along when Carl, whom he had considered his mentor mere days ago, had renewed his vows of protection and appreciation. He knew he was needed, and he had done all he could to stay in that position. But it was not the same anymore, something had been broken that night. If Greg had thought he could treat him that way as close as he was with Carl, it meant Anthony was of no real importance to them. Perhaps they even thought of him as a simple plaything, a tool for Fisher to use and discard at will. For now, Anthony had been chosen for an important mission, and he planned to accomplish it – if only for his own satisfaction. He would see if Carl stayed true to his word, Greg would be gone in a few weeks after all.

Anthony had chosen Milo because the boy had been there that weekend and had seen how Greg had mistreated them. He could share that with Milo when it would be unacceptable with any other club member. For many of the others, Greg was a god and saying anything against him was out of the question. Anthony didn't think it was logical that he had been the only one confronted by Greg's sadism, but who else? Maybe he had been the only one. Milo had been roughed up too, but it was very different. Why was Anthony the one Greg had picked on, what had he done? He didn't know what to think anymore.

On top of all his other worries, it had been two days now without any news from his parents. Anthony knew that he had never been the most important person in their lives; he had understood that a long time ago, going from nanny to nanny and finally off to boarding school. He rarely really spent any time with them, not even on weekends or vacations. They always had more important things to do: their work, their friends, hobbies, and most of all they had each other. There was no place for anyone else in their world. He had concluded long ago that he had probably been an accident, that they had never really wanted a child. But still, they were his parents, why didn't they answer the many messages he had left them? Certainly, it wasn't much to ask.

Anthony needed some release, and sex was all he could think of. He needed it now, if only to forget that horrible night. It would be different with Milo, both exciting and pleasurable. He needed those sensations again, when he could share, give and receive. Where he could be sure he existed, and where he were needed and valued. Those things he sought more than anything.

"Let's go to the Teacher's House," suggested Milo.

"The Teacher's House? Why? You're nuts, it doesn't sound safe to me."

"It should be. All the teachers are at the assembly and a lot of the rooms are being renovated. The workers have deserted the place, we should be very much alone there, believe me."

It suddenly felt terribly exciting to do it there with Milo. It felt scary, strange, and wicked.

"Okay, let's go have a look. There's a couch in the sacristy of the Chapel I thought we could use, but I like your idea better."

As they headed for the Teacher's Building, they became aware that they were not the only boys playing truant and following their own agenda. They were even seen by a prefect, but he did not call to them or any of the others. There was a strange atmosphere all over the school: a permissiveness had settled over many of the students, and it was very attractive and disturbing at the same time. A bit like the club, in fact, where you were authorized to do what was totally forbidden, things that would have cost you a lot anywhere else. It was so easy to succumb to it when you felt alone in the world and not consider that other, more ominous, aspect.

As they reached the Teacher's House, they slowed down and looked around to be sure no one would see them. The whole area seemed completely deserted, and they entered with some apprehension. It was a place seldom visited by students at any time. It would probably have been different if Mister Fisher had had his apartments there, the place would then have been quite familiar to Anthony, who was wondering where Milo got this idea.

It was very different from the student Houses, more like a regular condominium than anything else. It was not grand but still appeared quite comfortable and stylish in an old-fashioned way. The workers had left some tools and materials such as paint buckets to the right side of the entrance hall. It clearly showed what direction to take to reach the renovated areas.

The two timid boys followed the given indications, keeping to the corridor to their right, which had been painted recently. They soon found some ground floor apartments in various stages of completion. Most doors were wide open and the boys could peek inside as they progressed. They finally came to one that seemed close to being finished. In this room, only the bathroom and kitchen were still untreated.

The condo was already partly furnished, with a large bed in the bedroom. The boys exchanged enthusiastic glances and smiles. This was it, the room they had been looking for! The mattress was still covered with plastic and there were no sheets or blankets, but they didn't care. They had no need of sheets for what they planned to do.

Anthony opened a large window that overlooked a small courtyard near the back of the building. It would provide a perfect escape route in case someone surprised them. As improbable as it was, they felt relieved to have it.

Once again, they shot each other glances, and as if on cue, they started to undress in a hurry, each on one side of the bed. Soon they were both fully erect and entwined with each other on the bed. The contact with the cold plastic under them was strange and refreshing, considering the heat of the day. The contact of their bodies was sweet and hot in perfect contrast; the sweat from their passion was cooled by a small breeze that whispered in from the open window.

Milo was not like many of the other boys for whom sex was simply a quick way to reach an orgasm. Like Anthony, he liked to make it last. Kissing, cuddling, caressing, foreplay, all of this made him quite popular in the Club. Even though he was a bit younger than Anthony, he was already quite good at it.

Alone in the abandoned building, that is exactly what they started to do. A quick peck here and there, a caress, a tickle, a pinch, a laugh, they were not afraid to lose their erections. The game could go on for a long time, but nonetheless, their desire for each other and for a release eventually became stronger. They shifted positions getting in a sixty-nine. They were both quite adept at it, and each knew how to please their partner perfectly. They sucked and licked each other's probing cocklets greedily. Anthony went further, exploring his friend's round globes and the small pucker between them. He wondered how Ivor's huge member had been able to enter it. It was fascinating how flexible those things were. The thought of Milo's elastic little anus made Anthony harder than ever, and he decided that he wanted to try it next. Although he was usually on the receiving end, Anthony had recently found an interest on being on the more active side of sex.

***

They had their first orgasm almost simultaneously, Milo had not protested when Anthony started to finger fuck him with one and then two digits. On the contrary, he readily accepted the passive role, and allowed Anthony to bugger him, which he happily did for the next fifteen minutes.

For Milo, it was nothing like it had been with Thorvald or with Sam Lewis, who had originally initiated him. Sizes were not the same, but it was agreeable and he wanted to please his friend. He still felt bad for that fateful weekend where Anthony had not only been abused by Greg, but when Milo, himself, had monopolized Ivor's interest and affection.

Unfortunately, Anthony's tool was too small to reach that magic spot that had brought Milo so much pleasure near the pool at the mansion. In fact, he thought that it felt much better when Anthony had used his fingers during the sixty-nine. Perhaps it could work if they changed their positions, but for now, lying on his back, he would content himself with the friction of their two young bodies and organs, the tongue play and kisses.

He let his mind wander; what's Ivor doing right now, and will I ever see him again? When will I go back home to my parents and sister? He had to say that, with all the scary events taking place, he missed them a lot…yes, even his annoying sister. He hoped that for the next weekend, all would be back to normal and he could go home, and the next fuck would be with Ivor. He had also decided he would help Anthony and stand by his side against Greg. He did not know yet how he could do that, but he would try to figure something out. He was afraid of the prefect, but he still would do it. What bothered him though was that he had actually liked being rough handled by Greg Sutton, and it was not the first time he had noticed that he liked being the victim. He seemed to enjoy being tied up or spanked, things that had always been part of his games. Like those costumes that he had tried at Ivor's, that also really turned him on…

***

Walt was in charge, and since none of the boys around him were trouble makers, it was a rather easy job. He was quite concerned about Ke's fate and avoided talking about it with Johnny or Matthew. He knew it was very unlikely that the boy would be seen again. He had watched the news closely over the last few days, and had talked with his father who had many contacts in Asia and notably China. It was bad there; his only hope was that it did not get that bad here. It was simply too late for Ke and nothing much could be done about it. Even visiting him would be impossible.

By chance, Sven was fine and Walt wanted to use this sad opportunity to get even closer to him. He wasn't proud of thinking that way, but it was true and an important part of his thoughts at that moment. For some time he had been questioning his attraction to younger boys, particularly for Sven. Walt was a single child and had always wanted siblings: was he looking for a little brother, or was there more to it than that? He had always been the helpful big brother to the younger students since he had joined the school, always there to help out and take care of those in need, always protective of them. He had gained a strong reputation as he got older. Indeed, until he met Sven it had always seemed quite natural. With Sven, however, it had developed into a deeper friendship, Walt always seeking more, feeling frustrated, and never having enough. He wasn't gay, of that he was quite sure. He had a girlfriend, had several in fact. His large size seemed to be a magnet for many of them. Sex was great with them, and more than satisfying. There was no question about that. So what was it? Sven was just a little boy, what was so special about him? Were his feelings for Sven sexual in any way? He didn't really know and had not wanted to consider the possibility so far, but he was sure he had felt some jealousy when he had seen the boy's enthusiasm with Mr. Dunn. He had felt envious and hurt. What was going on?

He hoped an answer would come to him over the next few days. The promiscuity would be helpful. If he were not gay, what would he call it? As he sat pondering all these things, his eyes lingered over Matthew for a time, who was busy typing a message on his phone. He was a beautiful boy too, as noticeable as Sven in his own way. Did he feel an attraction? Was he moved? Was he bisexual, or worse yet, a pedophile? The thought didn't appeal to him, he sure didn't want that!

***

Matthew was checking his phone every two to five minutes, hoping for an answer from Bob. He was still shaken by his father's message, knowing that after the loss of his mother and older brother, he was all alone now. It could explain why he was so upset to be deprived of Bob's presence over the next few days. He had never felt so close to anyone in his short life…any other boy, that is. Their friendship had been immediate, almost at first sight. They were together whenever possible and he felt that he could talk to Bob about anything. It had worked the same for Bob; at least that's what Bob had told him anyway. It was almost as if he had found a new brother.

No, he could not say that, it wasn't right. Bob could never replace Chris. Rather, it was as if he and Bob had known each other for a very long time. They had become best friends and knew everything there was to know about each other. It was weird in a way. For the time that he was stuck in the infirmary, he would miss Bob terribly. Hopefully, they could communicate via their phones, and Bob promised he would come to the window as often as possible.

The only good thing in all this was that he was not separated from Mr. Dunn. In fact, they would sleep close together that night with the four other boys. That was a very good thing; he liked the man and trusted him. Mr. Dunn was always listening; always ready to talk with him and treat him as an equal even though he was only a mere boy. He was strong and clearly fearless after what had happened on Tuesday. He was even funny sometimes by the way he looked at him. Matthew knew he was good looking and had already seen that look from people before. It often helped him get what he wanted. His father had made the right choice.

For the moment, what he wanted was to feel secure and important in the eyes of someone, and Mr. Dunn was the best person he could find to feel that way. He knew he could count on his roommates that he had met only days ago, and he liked that. The other two boys with them seemed likely to become good friends as well. All-in-all it wasn't so bad, if only Bob could join them.

***

Sven was watching Matthew play with his phone and he noticed that the boy appeared fidgety. He himself knew the feeling well. He had been terribly bored, locked in this infirmary close to six days now. Even with his pal William, it was a very long time. They had played cards, they had the authorization to use their phones or laptops for games, music, and schoolwork; yet these were minor distractions, which never lasted for very long.

With a mixture of excitement and horror, Sven recounted time and again the recent events in which they had taken the center stage. Everyone told him he had gained the status of hero through his courage and from likely saving William's life. He had had no real occasion to verify that, locked in this place as he was. His friend had promised that his father, who was a Senator, would award him a medal and although it was kind of him, it was far from enough to entertain Sven for long. Also, there was something else nagging at him.

Since the events on the sport field, he found himself obsessed with what had happened. The fear, the excitement, the feeling of helplessness, the blood, it all played in his mind over and over, like a horror movie stuck on repeat. Then there was Mister Dunn; the feeling of strong arms raising him from the ground, the embrace he fell into and the comfort it procured, the heat, the smells, the sense of belonging… of abandonment. The intense sexual tension it triggered was quite new to him. He felt completely confused, but also terribly entranced. He wanted to experience all of it again, all of it and more. He was ready to try anything to achieve it.

All of these thoughts constantly spun through his mind like a schoolboy frantically searching through his bag for the homework assignment he fears he forgot on the day it is due. He was scheming, trying to find a way to reach his goal. The previous day's events had been a revelation; he knew now what he wanted and accepted it, but had no idea how to get it, or even if there was a chance to.

Perhaps he could ask Walt for counsel, but that would be embarrassing. How do you ask someone how to seduce a grown man? Walt had talked of his girlfriends a few times, but that was not quite the same. The prefect could be outraged by the question. Perhaps Sven could say it was to seduce a girl, but he could not say he had just met one since it would appear odd. It had been months since he had left the school. Perhaps he could put on an innocent act and tell Walt that he got boners when thinking about them, and ask his advice about procuring a girlfriend. Like most boys his age, Sven had seen some porn on the internet at home and occasionally watched it with friends. It had mostly been between women and men, of course, but there had been some gay stuff as well. He knew most of the mechanics of sex, but there was no indication on how he could actually get there.

There was also Greg's gang; he had strong hints that sex was at least part of what they wanted from him. He knew some of the younger boys that seemed to be gravitating around that group; perhaps he could ask one of them. Ochii and Anthony both seemed reliable, but how could he approach them? He didn't think it would be a good idea to walk up to one of them and ask flat out, "Hey, how do you get a man to have sex with you?" Obviously, that wouldn't do.

He was stuck in the infirmary for a few more days at least. The main question he had now was how Mr. Dunn would react to such a proposition. Probably not well, to say the least. Even if Sven was certain the man was not indifferent to him, there was too much at stake to risk it. Most likely, Mr. Dunn would call his parents and have him sent back home. But he couldn't, Sven thought suddenly, whatever happens, I would have to stay here. That was the new rule, after all.

He felt so confused and indecisive. Mr. Dunn would be no more than a few feet away the entire night, and separated only by a simple curtain. He could try something with the man when everyone was sleeping and see what would happen. It was a crazy idea, but who knew? He could get lucky for once, and it was a golden opportunity. He might not have another chance later on.

He would be living with the man for the next couple of days, he was sure he would find a way. He was not afraid anymore if it was gay. He had confronted death and didn't care, how much worse could it possibly be?

***

Before dinner, Miles went back to the gymnasium to check on poor Ke and the people in charge. Abrams was there, but Cahill had left. Ten beds had been pulled from the reserves and placed in the center of the gym with a large space left between each. From his quick assessment, that still left room for fifty more beds at least. Ke looked lost and miserable, but was feeling better. The fever of the morning had gone, and aside from a few coughs and a runny nose, nothing else seemed unusual. The handcuffs that were fixed to the foot of the bed seemed totally out of place.

The kid was not crying any more, much to Miles' relief. Abrams had brought Ke some chocolate bars, which seemed to alleviate some of his fears. Dunn decided that they should put some folding screens between the beds to make the boy feel better in the immense, open space. They also had to find a better way to restrain the patients. Perhaps screwing a few rings into the wooden floor and adding restraining straps would work better. It seemed inhumane to restrain mere children, but it would be necessary if the worst were to happen. Before leaving, he visualized himself on one of those beds, feverish and dying, and immediately banished the thought from his mind.

He then went to his office and checked on the boys in the infirmary along the way. They seemed to get along relatively well and although they were confined, the atmosphere was quite festive. They even had one unexpected visitor, "The Flash," who was currently standing outside the window, making silly faces at Matthew.

Upon reaching his office, he consulted the internet about the latest news on the Shanxi flu. He did not expect much and found that he was right. Nothing but bad news poured in from many countries: chaos was expanding. Even in the States, the situation was clearly tense, with the number of the infected steadily rising and incidents with the enraged or "ferals" multiplying drastically. Perry's projections did not give the quarantine much chance to succeed, nonetheless, Miles still hoped for the best.

Now would come the time of waiting and dealing with the sick. Not knowing who would be next, how many would develop the disease…and probably with little help from the outside. There was still no sign of the promised medical unit as of yet, much to his dismay.

***

Walt was a reliable boy, his height quite a contrast with his still youthful features. He looked totally uncanny surrounded as he was by the four others, who seemed no more than little boys by his side. Miles himself had to raise his gaze to look the boy in the eyes. He had asked the young giant to join him in his sleeping quarters that evening. He wanted to inform the young man of what he had missed during the prefects' assembly.

He wanted Walt to make a list of boys that could be trusted among the upper forms, telling him that if many staff members fell ill, they would be needed to replace the adults in keeping some semblance of order in the School. Walt would be promoted to prefect, a role he had always avoided, as well as those on the list. He also made clear that he wanted to reduce Greg's notable influence and reduce his circle of friends among them.

Walt immediately understood the need for the two objectives. He was well aware of the situation, as well as being opposed to Greg and his crew's pervading and noxious influence in the school. He agreed and assured Miles that the list would be ready by morning. He then thanked Miles again for saving Sven's and William's lives, and told Miles that he could be counted on to help in any way he could. Walt was very sincere in his gratitude to Miles, even if he thought the man could become a menace to his relationship with Sven. He had gotten very close to the boy and didn't want to lose him, whatever his feelings for the boy meant.

Walt had first met Sven back in October in a rather unexpected way. The boy had crashed against him while turning around a corner in a school corridor. He had been running to escape Greg and two others who were trying to find a way to impose their twisted ways upon him. Walt's determined stance and gesture of placing the boy behind him was enough to discourage the pursuers. Greg and his pals quickly abandoned pursuit when they saw the show of bravado, and feigned looking inconspicuous.

It had not been the first time he had come to the help of the younger and smaller boys. There were a few bullies in the School, though none was as cunning and dangerous as Greg and his pals. There had already been a few brushes between them, and the gang had learned to avoid Walt who was much bigger than most of them and knew how to fight when necessary. Sven, after catching his breath, had excused himself and thanked him. He gave his name, asked for Walt's, and then started up a brief conversation.

He had instantly been captivated by the child's appearance and personality. The kid seemed at ease with the much bigger boy, and for a fleeting moment, Walt hoped his strange feelings might be shared. Although he was popular in the school and outside – notably with the girls, his size made him feel awkward and out of place in most situations. He and this fine looking boy had stood in the hallway and talked for a good thirty minutes about everything and nothing, just for the pleasure of being together. They exchanged phone numbers since they weren't from the same houses, and Walt demanded that the boy ask for help if and when he needed it. Sven finally had to leave for soccer practice, which in turn left a tiny hole in Walt's heart. He watched the boy go and saw him turn back once with a smile and a wave before disappearing.

They had seen each other often since then, Walt purposefully finding occasions to be with the much younger boy. They were different in age by five years, which is a lot at that stage of life. It was true that Sven was not the only kid he helped and supported, there were others. His fondness for helping the underdog had earned him the nickname "the good Samaritan" by many, but Sven was the boy that remained forever in his thoughts. If he still did not know the exact nature of his feelings for Sven, he at least knew the strength and depth of those feelings. He knew that he would do anything for the boy.

Being allowed to be with Sven day and night for the next few days was at once a delight and a torture. He loved to be with him, listen to his voice, and feel the contact of the boy's body when they touched, as he had taken the habit of doing often. But he also feared those same feelings, unsure of their nature and afraid of being rejected. It would kill him to lose the boy. He had tried to keep his distance the whole afternoon to reason with himself, which seemed ridiculous but was true and sincere.

***

Miles "sleeping quarters" were actually nothing more than a bed, a table, and a chair separated from the infirmary by a simple blackout curtain. There would be no real privacy for any of them. But In fact, nothing much happened on the first night. Miles did not want to take any risks; he fled when he became aroused by seeing the half-naked boys take turns using the single shower stall in the infirmary. They were oblivious of the effect they had upon him whenever they undressed or lingered on their beds wearing nothing more than a simple pair of shorts. He did not feel safe even behind the curtain that separated him from the boys. He had worked late in his office, going to bed only after the boys had been asleep for a long time, and he got up at first light before any of them had awakened.

Miles had had a busy day again and had managed to avoid the infirmary for the most part. He stayed in his office, were he was visited by Carl and Daniels, and then by Louise, who had come to review some of the unresolved problems. He went to see Ke momentarily, whose fever had come back. Morgan Wells was the teacher in charge, and nurse Cahill was nowhere in sight once again. After the short visit, he had read and reread more of Perry's files, notably studying those he did not want to share that had been saved on two flash drives. These files were mostly about the survival tools that could secure their future, as well as maps, escape routes, state and federal fallback policies, and the locations of secret compounds with food, necessities, equipment, and weapons.

He had listened to Louise's warnings about what people's reactions and behaviors would be during stressful situations. No one was to be trusted until proved otherwise, which is why he decided to keep these particular files to himself. He hoped he had fooled Fisher by giving him all the less sensitive data. Still, it was enough to occupy days or even weeks if he wanted. Perry had been wise and made a selection of the principal ones, those that would be enough to give him a precise view of the situation without getting lost in thousands of pages, diagrams, or studies.

He delayed his return to the infirmary for as long as possible. As on the previous day, he was wary of getting too close to the boys. He was the one who had put himself in that situation and he knew it very well. He was not sure he could achieve what he wanted in the right way, he wasn't sure if he should, and most of all, he wasn't sure he could control himself and his desires. He didn't like the chain of thoughts that made him consider his chances with each of the boys in his care. He had developed a strong link with Matthew, but had set him apart from the others; he had been trusted with Matthew's well-being, and determined that the boy was not to be thought of in that way.

Next was Sven, who had clearly sported an erection at the pool and had surprised Miles by often stealing glances at him. There was always a tension in Sven's presence, which was not a sure proof of availability, but Sven was probably his best bet at trying anything. Besides, he was certainly a beautiful boy.

There was William and Johnny, who were mostly blank pages that he had discarded at first, but who knew? They were both very handsome lads. Finally, there was Walt who was obviously out of his age range, even without the size problem. The proximity of the boys was an opportunity, but also a problem for him.

He knew his best and safest bet was with Anthony, who had clearly stated his willingness and availability. He had been so focused these last days that he did not have the ability to look for the boy, and it was out of the question that he go and fetch Anthony from his dormitory. He felt time ticking by and thought his days were probably numbered, even though all around him things were still quite normal. There was no certainty that the end of their world was at hand. It was still very difficult to throw years of self-control out the window, but the urge was there and stronger than ever. Why not demand an interview with the boy? No one would come knocking on his office door when he was alone with the boy. It could be as simple as that.

Making up his mind, Miles went to the video control room, chatted with the janitor on duty for a bit, and then decided that it was finally time to go to sleep.

The infirmary was dimly lit by the light of the full moon, which was stealing in through the windows like a silent thief. All the boys were asleep; he could hear their soft breathing and guess the shapes on their beds. As silently as possible, he stripped down to his boxer shorts, put his gun under the pillow, and laid on the thin infirmary mattress. Despite the air conditioning, it was kind of hot in the crowded room. He was exhausted, but his mind was still in overdrive: thoughts about this and that; a permanent jumble of boys dancing naked through his aching mind; and his hard cock, asking for the relief that he dared not satisfy.

Sleep was finally seeping into his body when his instincts told him that something was amiss. Light footsteps, a slim figure approaching him, barely seen through the curtain; the figure of a boy. He was instantly fully awake.

The boy had a moment of hesitation before pushing aside the curtain, a few seconds where he stood still. Finally, he went ahead and stood before the bed, almost naked, wearing only diminutive light blue shorts.

"Sir," he said in a whisper.

"Yes, Sven," replied Miles in hushed tones.

"I had a nightmare, I can't sleep…"

"Er…hop in then, but quietly. We don't want to wake the others."

Miles made a place for the boy to lie on the small bed, draping an arm across his shoulders. Could it be? he wondered, could this be the moment I've been waiting for?

"What was your nightmare about?"

Miles was instantly erect again, his boxer shorts tented and in the light of the moon, clearly visible for anyone who wanted to see it. The contact with the boy's skin was maddening. Alarm bells began to ring; he would not be able to control himself this time.

"I don't quite remember, but it was bad. There was blood…"

"You can stay here a few minutes, and then you'll have to go back to your own bed, okay?"

He felt the boy nod gently against the bare skin of his naked shoulder. Miles was in turmoil; here was the situation he had wished for since he had set foot in the School. It was the perfect time to try something and see what would happen. He had to use all of his Marine instilled discipline not to jump on the boy and ravish him right now. He was paralyzed and yet ready to move at the same time. He shot a glance at the boy's profile, observing his chiseled features which were illuminated in the soft moon light, the boy's eyes wide open and staring off into the distance, lost in thought. Miles' erection was at full mast; not even years of control could master it right now.

Sven was tense; he still did not know how to proceed. He had already gone further than he had ever dared. He was skin to skin against the man, feeling the heat and strength of the man's body against his own. Should he get even bolder?

Seconds ticked by, turning into minutes, and still, nothing was happening, Sven told himself he had to do something. As innocently as he could, he shifted position, turning onto his side so that his left cheek posed on the man's upper torso. Very carefully, he dropped his right hand and inadvertently brushed it against a very hard and very real erection.

"Sven, what are you doing?"

Their gaze met and Sven read panic in the man's eyes, panic, and something else, something almost primal… He saw lust in the man's eyes. Instinctively, at that moment, Sven knew that he had won. Bold for bold, he thought as he closed his eyes and brought his lips to the man's in a delicate kiss. He pulled his leg up and gently caressed the man's erection with his thigh.

While years of caution and ban were making a ruckus, Miles didn't push the boy away, even though it stood against all reason. Was it a dream? He had to be sure that it wasn't.

"What are you doing Sven?" He asked with a sigh.

"I don't really know," answered the boy, as surprised as he was relieved by Miles' reaction, "but you seem to like it."

Pushing his thigh further against the man's erection, he didn't dare sustain Miles' gaze, but again closed his eyes and resumed his kiss.

"Damn boy, you're barely twelve. What gave you the idea? You know I can't…"

"That's all I've been thinking since you saved William… and me," Sven interrupted, "and even before that…" Sven clung to the man with all the strength and determination he could gather. Miles knew it was too late; he would never be able to break their embrace. In fact, he did not want to. His hand had instinctively slipped into the backside of the boy's shorts and grabbed one of the generously firm mounds hidden there; ready to go further.

"Wait, not here," he had the presence of mind to say.

After a moment's hesitation, he raised himself from the bed, carrying the boy with him in his arms. He held Sven tightly against him, wanting to keep the feeling of the soft skin and firm body as close as possible. He tiptoed out of the infirmary as quietly as possible. Where could we go, he wondered, the examination room is just there, but too close to the other boys. The administration building would be deserted at this hour, except for the video room. His office had a couch that would be perfect, and so he settled on that. He could feel the boy trembling in his arms; it was much cooler in the corridor than the infirmary. He almost ran to get there as fast as possible, all the way his hands and mouth at work on the boy's body.

It had been two years since he had last had sex with a boy. As with most of his encounters, it had been a fast and unsatisfying affair with a street kid in South America, complete with the attached guilt afterwards. It had happened by chance that time; he had taken his pleasure, paid the boy, and left the room without a word. He knew he had hurt the boy and was angry with himself afterwards for his behavior, for being who he was. It was always the same, his pent up frustrations brought up the worst in him. Always afraid of getting caught, seen, or reported, his few moments of release had resulted in aggressive sex and pain for his young partners. Each time he promised himself to be more considerate, and each time he had failed.

With these conflicting thoughts, he entered the office and laid the boy on the couch. He had to say something; perhaps it would go no further. Perhaps it was all a mistake.

"Do you know what you're doing, Sven?"

"No, sir, but I still want to, sir"

"Is this your first time?"

"Yes, sir."

"Stop calling me sir," he said gently, "call me, Miles."

"Yes… Miles."

The boy was clearly in a state of arousal and lightly stroking his own erection during their exchange. Miles took off his stained boxer shorts, revealing his eight-inch [20 cm] cock, which swayed close to the boy's mouth. He thought he had probably no more experience with genuine lovemaking than the boy did in this situation. The boy was no prostitute or street boy; it would not be a ten-minute fuck-and-forget. He had resisted Anthony before, and he could do it again, he had to for the sake of his job and reputation. But on this night, with all that had happened, and a bleak future, it was impossible to resist the child.

He was dedicated to go slow and step-by-step, but it was going to be difficult. Maybe we should keep talking first, he thought. He knelt down beside the couch. Sven's eyes were glued to his large member, but Miles gently placed his fingers beneath the boy's chin and lifted until their eyes met.

"What do you know about sex?"

"I've seen movies"

"What kind of movies?"

As he was talking, Miles had taken over and was stroking Sven's erection through the boy's shorts. The boy glanced back down at Miles' erection, fascinated at the sight of precum leaking from the tip.

"Porn… Gay porn too," the boy answered hesitantly.

"So you know how it works?"

"More or less."

Miles leaned over and kissed the boy's mouth, his hand slipping into the front of the boy's shorts and resuming the stroking, skin-against-skin. It was working; he was in control. All would be fine; there was no rush, no fear. Miles felt a tremendous weight being lifted from his shoulders. What he was doing was not wrong, the kid was willing; he had asked for it!

"How far would you like to go?"

"As far… as far as you want," Sven replied with some uncertainty.

Miles was about to answer when alarming thoughts came to him. My gun! My phone! He was truly out of his mind to have forgotten them. He had no choice; he could not take the chance of leaving his gun in the presence of the other boys. He had to leave Sven for a moment and get them. It would only take a minute.

"Okay, take off your shorts. I need to get something at the infirmary; I'll be back right away."

If he could find some lube too, that would be perfect. He retrieved his own shorts and put them on, and then went to the door and left the room with a smile on his face. That's when he saw Walt coming towards him.

"Walt, what are you doing here?"

"I saw you leave with Sven and wondered what was happening. Is everything alright?"

"Sven had a nightmare and wanted to talk, so I brought him here. I didn't want to wake everybody else. I realized that I had forgotten my phone and was going back for it."

"Do you want me to stay with him?"

"There's no need, he's feeling better now, but go ahead if you want to. I'll be back in a minute."

He hoped Sven had heard them and had kept his shorts on. Miles started for the infirmary quickly; his story was rather lame and he wasn't sure Walt would fall for it. There was nothing more that could be done. Appearances, he hoped, had been saved and there would be many other occasions. Perhaps the interruption was for the best. Bullshit! He was enraged at the missed opportunity!

***

Walt found Sven sitting on the couch. He had not been fooled; he had been awake the whole time and had understood right away what was going on. He had known true jealousy for the first time that night, and had finally seen his feelings for what they were: love and sex. Damn boy, why did you go for Dunn when you could have come to me? The boy was fidgety on the couch, searching for composure. The full moon that lit the whole sequence had a dreamlike quality. All of Walt's anger and resentment dissolved as he stared at Sven's face, which looked paler than ever.

"Are you okay?"

"I had a nightmare. Nakata…"

Sven's voice dropped off. He had attentively followed Dunn and Walt's conversation. He felt guilty, ashamed by the situation when moments before he had felt elated and excited about his unexpected success. Now was the moment to confide in the bigger boy, but he lacked the resolve.

A heavy silence fell upon them until the return of Miles.

Chapter 9

Dunn's phone woke him up the next morning with an urgent call. Miss Cahill needed him at the Teacher's House right away; three new cases of the flu had been found there.

He dressed quickly and shot a glance at the boys, most of whom were still asleep. Sven was wide-awake and smiling at him. It had not been a dream then, he thought before noticing that Walt's eyes were open as well. What a coincidence! Miles signaled that he was leaving and gave Walt command of the infirmary once more. He would deal with the aftermath of the night later in the day. Having what he feared and desired the most offered to him had made him both terrified and ecstatic, a strange combination. He could not resist the temptation though; he needed to devise a way to get Sven alone without raising suspicions. If Walt had not been awake, he would have gone to cuddle the boy, maybe slip him a little tongue as well. He had some difficulty concentrating on anything else, but in the end, his duty came first.

At the Teacher's House, the atmosphere was tense in the common room. Miss Cahill and Carl Fisher were there and wearing masks, along with three faculty members that Miles did not know very well. At least two looked really sick. A woman, the wife of one of them, was standing in the corridor with worry written all over her face. She looked about ready to burst into the room against regulations to be beside her husband.

He was surprised to see Fisher there, but welcomed the help he could give. Miles soon understood that none of the three was willing to go to the gymnasium, now the designated school hospital. He had to act fast before they lost control. If there was resistance now, and they did not follow through with what had been decided, it would be very difficult to achieve it later when they were undermanned and facing much greater opposition. They had to show their determination.

Miles stood firmly facing the sick adults seated at one of the tables in the common room; Carl and Miss Cahill slightly behind him, in what could be taken as a show of force. With calm, he sat at their table, pulled out his gun from its holster, and set it on the table in front of him.

"I see you're sick with the fever, and I'm sorry, I know you're worried and afraid. We'd like to help you to the gymnasium. It's been set up with beds for those under quarantine."

There was a gasp from the corridor; the woman waiting there covered her mouth with her hands, but it didn't hide the tears streaming down her face.

"You can't do that!" said Swift, lifting his head to look Dunn in the eyes.

"I don't want to, but we have no choice, we must quarantine anyone who comes down with a fever for the protection of all of us. We represent the school board and the authorities. Now please come with us." His tone left no doubt this was a command and not a request.

"You're giving us a death sentence; you think we'll become one of those ferals we've seen on television. I won't go; my place is here with my wife."

"There's no way we will have a second incident like Tuesday. I don't want to move you forcefully, but if that is what it takes then that is what will happen. I won't even need my gun for that."

"Please Henry, do what he says," said Swift's wife, not wanting to see her husband hurt physically by the former Marine.

That, and Miles uncompromising tone ended the discussion. Finally, and reluctantly, Henry Swift rose from his chair followed by the two others. Miles did not have to resort to physically removing them, although he had been ready to do so. It had to be this way. He escorted them with Shirley to the school hospital in a heavy silence. There were more recriminations when they placed the handcuffs as Miles expected, but he knew he had won already and their protests changed nothing.

Four out of the ten beds were now occupied. They would have to bring more rather soon. Chains fixed to the ground had been added beside each bed, short enough to avoid reaching any of the other beds but long enough to leave some movement and comfort for the unfortunate wearers.

With some dread, Miles went to see Ke, and asked how he was doing. He told the boy that all his friends had been wondering and asking about him.

Ke was still coughing a bit but felt much better and had no sign of a fever; Miles thought this puzzling but very welcome after the morning's events, it gave him some hope. They talked a bit, the boy asking when he would be allowed to go back to his dormitory.

"Soon," lied Miles.

Abrams had lost some of his joviality, as had all the people Miles had met that morning. Haunted looks plain on their faces; the Shanxi flu was for real, not just something seen on TV or in a far off place. That reality was very slowly taking root.

Daniels would have to reorganize some schedules again; they were three teachers short now. He knew he would have to find alternatives for classes to occupy the students, it could not go on like this much longer, or they would become wild and unmanageable.

Faces were similarly grave among the adults during breakfast. For their part the boys were their natural selves; certainly the lower grades were annoyed at having classes every day for more than a week with no respite in sight. At the same time, perhaps they were sensing that somehow soon, classes would be a thing of the past. For the seniors it was different, many of them had been given new responsibilities and had a better grasp on the current situation.

A lot of the teachers and staff were looking at their phones, listening to the news during the meals, which was something that would have been out of the question before. A few of the boys were browsing through their phones as well, mostly the older ones.

It wasn't three days into the quarantine yet and things were already deteriorating. Amid news of riots in the big cities and the spreading of the disease everywhere, political debates raged: about the ineffective measures that were being taken, what should be done, and which politician would be their best bet for controlling the situation. The nation was in a tailspin, collapsing before their very eyes.

That morning saw two more cases of fever and illness during the temperature check. One was a student from Puma House and the other was the janitor that Miles had met once before at the video surveillance center. The same procedure was now repeated again; Miles escorting them to the gymnasium, having them choose bunks and then restraining them to said bunks. It had been the right call to add more beds; they were filling up fast, somehow faster than even Miles had expected here at the school.

Miles asked Miss Cahill to call the county hospital and inquire about whether the evacuation of the sick would be put into effect, which would be a great relief for the St. Xavier staff.

Shirley had difficulty getting in contact with the hospital and they soon understood they would not get much help or counsel from the outside. The coordinator curtly told her that they had no personnel to spare and no way to come pick up the sick, contrary to the authorities' announcements. Nothing had been set up to that effect as of yet.

With five new cases in one day, it appeared that the isolation of the boys who had been in close contact with Ido Nakata and Ke was not preventing the Shanxi flu from spreading within St. Xavier, it was now senseless and unrealistic. The decision to release the boys currently being held in the infirmary was made after lunch. Miles regretted being separated from Sven so soon. Finding a way to get close to the boy in an intimate way would be more of a problem after their quarantine was lifted, but he had many other worries. He went by himself to inform the boys and set them free.

When he arrived at the infirmary, the boys were busy playing a card game. Walt, who wasn't playing, was kindly watching over them and as usual, seated close to Sven. Miles hadn't been noticed by the group yet, so he took a few minutes to observe them. Their personalities were carried over in the attitudes shown during the game; Johnny, who was an obvious extrovert, had some difficulty hiding his enthusiasm when he held a winning hand. Matthew was reserved and almost shy, which showed whenever he pulled a card or made a bet. Sven and William were more difficult to categorize, the former sending glances all around as though he was trying to guess what cards the others held, the latter overtly trying to catch glimpses of his friend's hand, something only very close friends could do without creating an incident or being called cheats.

Walt's attention was solely concentrated on Sven, devouring the scantily clad boy with hungry-looking eyes. It was so evident to Miles that it was almost comical. In fact, it would have been if not for the danger that Miles also detected from that fact. Miles would have to be very cautious if he wanted to achieve what he had missed the night before; he had to avoid being too obvious about his intentions, and he would have to warn Sven about it, too. He did not want to antagonize Walt or risk being exposed – not yet, at least.

"Hello boys. I have some good news for you." He declared, getting their immediate attention, "you are free to leave the infirmary and return to your respective houses."

"For real?" asked William

"Why? What happened?" added Matthew.

To Miles' surprise, they did not appear all that eager. From the look on his face, Sven even seemed quite upset about the news, probably for the same reasons that he felt himself. It meant they would be separated and it would be much more difficult to have some time alone together.

"Just what I told you at the beginning, keeping you here was senseless. We have too many sick people to keep that quarantine policy now. The virus is among us and there is nothing we can do about it. There's nothing to fear for you guys though, as I told some of you already, you should not develop the disease."

"But Ke is sick," interjected Matthew without reserve.

"Yes, he was sick, but against all odds he seems to be recovering. He had no fever this morning and was feeling better. I think he might have just had a case of the flu…the regular flu, that is."

"Can we go visit him then?" asked Johnny.

"No, not there, it's not the best place for you, sorry."

"And what about you, sir?" asked Sven.

"I won't stay here either. It would feel too lonely without you little punks. I'll probably wind up back at Bear House."

The boys grinned at being called little punks. As they quietly gathered their belongings and started back for their houses, Miles left the infirmary. He knew they were disappointed by his answer about Ke, but he had no choice in the matter. He had made a mistake by mentioning that Ke was recovering and giving them hope. Nothing was definite yet, and Ke was quite likely to relapse.

***

It was clear that from now on, having only Abrams and Shirley at the school's hospital would not be sufficient. He had to find more personnel and organize shifts. They had been wise to prepare and not believe that everything would be taken care of by the authorities. They had decided on a mixture of the staff and prefects to fill the positions, which would provide a slow and progressive shift of responsibilities when adults became scarce. They had very few means of treating the patients, even with the medicines that had been sent by Senator Forest, most of which were merely to relieve the symptoms and the pain. Nothing they could think of would stop or slow the evolution of the disease.

Miles dreaded when new cases of rage would show up. If those in the makeshift hospital were truly infected as their symptoms suggested, it would be in three or four days… tops. If some of them turned feral, how would they deal with the consequences? It was evident that the situation would soon be out of control. Furthermore, the Shanxi flu would first affect those needed most to keep a semblance of order in the school. It would really become a difficult challenge.

In regard to all this, it was easy and sadly horrifying to imagine what would happen outside the school to people totally unprepared for what was coming. No, Miles corrected himself, it was not coming: it was already here. They had to adapt and create new procedures to face those unavoidable difficulties. All of their planning so far seemed to be insufficient; they would never reach their goals and it looked to become a never-ending process, and it was just the beginning. It was a nightmare.

He needed to work on ways to keep order for as long as possible. To do this, he would need to enlist the help of Daniels, Carl, and Louise, among many others.

***

After lunch, a new problem arose. Rufus Aims, one of the phys ed teachers, was nowhere to be found. He did not answer his phone, and the boys he was in charge of had been left to care for themselves on the sports field where they were found making a large ruckus. Miles asked about Aims, but none of the boys had seen him since the end of that morning. Miles took the matter up with Fisher, who knew the teacher rather well and was as befuddled as anyone else was by his disappearance.

Together, they checked his apartment, his office, his car, and every place where Fisher thought they had a chance of finding him. Miles looked over the list to see if the man's temperature had been taken that morning, and they asked around to see if anyone had seen or heard anything out of the ordinary.

"What do you think Dunn? What happened?" asked Fisher, genuinely concerned.

"Honestly, I don't know. If he had left the school, he would have taken his car. Perhaps he had an accident? …Or, maybe some kind of malaise and is lying unconscious somewhere? Is he a drug user, or does he have a medical condition?"

"Not to my knowledge… could he have been attacked, like Nakata? Do you think we should put the school in lock down again?"

"I don't think so, it's been several hours, and the attacker would have shown himself by now."

"What then?"

"Suicide?"

"Knowing him that seems unlikely."

"Let's search the school with the available staff and prefects. He has to be here somewhere, either unconscious or in hiding."

"In hiding? What for?"

"Dunno. You know him better than me, what do you think?"

Clearly, Fisher could not state that he was a member of the club and had sex with some of the boys. Had there been an incident? Aims could be impulsive sometimes. No, he would have already heard of it. Were all the boys accounted for? He would have to check, but once again, he would have been notified. Did the man use drugs? It was not uncommon…

"I don't see why he would do that. Perhaps he had someone come by and pick him up, despite the quarantine…or because of it."

"I hadn't thought of that. It's a possibility, let's do a thorough search of the school first; he may be in need of help."

Miles had been thinking of another explanation. Perhaps the man had fallen sick and did not want to be restrained like the others at the gymnasium. They had to find him!

A search party was organized by the prefects and staff, as well as some of the older boys, but it yielded no results. Everybody else had been accounted for; Aims was the only one missing. His temperature had been checked both the previous day and that morning, but there were certainly ways to conceal a high temperature.

Miles lost a few hours trying to find him, or at least a clue to his whereabouts. He suddenly realized that he had forgotten all about Anthony, Sven, and any other thoughts associated with them during that time, but they were returning to him now with a vengeance. He would go back to Bear House that evening and probably enjoy a visit from Matthew and Logan, but he would be separated from Sven. He could try going to Puma House, using the temperature check or something else as a cover, but it would not resolve his problem of getting the boy alone. The same applied to Anthony.

Damn Walt, he had wasted Miles' best chance of achieving the one thing he had been pursuing and dreading for years. If he and Sven had been able to fulfill their mutual desires, he could clear his racing mind and have a better idea of what to expect in the future. He wasn't sure that a boy and a man could love each other without it being solely the satisfaction of the man's base instincts and cravings. If there could be more to it, if it could be acceptable. Years and years of pedo bashing had left their mark. He honestly still questioned the validity and morality of such a relation. He still felt guilt from his behavior with young Logan a few days back, from taking advantage of the innocent boy without his knowledge or consent, but the desire was there, it was strong, and he could not deny it.

He went to the infirmary, which had been left in disorder by the boys. As he sat on one of the cots, he thought about what he wanted to do next while he looked for anything the boys had forgotten, the most simple object or garment. He reveled in the odors that emanated from the crumpled sheets, bed covers, and pillows. He tried to recollect each boy as precisely as possible and in every detail; their bodies, faces, hair, mouths, necks, arms, legs, thighs, also those things he had not wanted to see and escaped from when they had undressed for bed or their evening shower; their bums, cocks, loins, and smooth little cracks. He felt a strong need to wank right there on Sven's bed, remembering the fleeting and formidable sensations of the previous night. How much he missed the boy's presence, the contact and feel of his delicate body. How many days had he left to enjoy them? He should throw away every caution, take the all too willing boy away from St. Xavier, and live his last days in a stupor of love, sex, and pleasures.

But he could not do that. He knew that in three or four days, the people in the gymnasium would become dangerous, and his place was here. The pattern was now well known by everyone; restraining them was their only answer for the moment. There were others that had been discussed, but for now they appeared unacceptable. From Perry's files, he knew that some of them might become ferals, their minds altered without a viable cure, for those they had no real answer ready. Reflecting on it all, Miles was reminded that he could become one of those poor souls in the very near future. He had enough discipline to stay true to his duties to the end, but he also felt the strong need to fulfill his hidden cravings before it was too late. It was a difficult equation to resolve.

As he was about to leave the infirmary, Miles heard the sound of someone running down the corridor. It was usually forbidden, but the rules were becoming lax. Out of curiosity, he went to investigate and as soon as he had opened the door, he stood face to face with young Anthony, who practically fell into his arms.

"Anthony!" exclaimed Miles

"Mister Dunn!" yelped Anthony, who looked just as surprised.

"Wha-what are you doing here?"

"I was looking for you. Mister Fisher sent me to fetch you from your office. Headmaster Daniels is holding a meeting upstairs in the conference room and they are waiting for you."

The boy seemed all business at first, but his attitude soon changed.

"I see, guess I'd better head over there."

Miles' actions did not follow his words though, and he stood rooted to the spot, observing the gorgeous boy closely as the unsatisfied stirring in his loins was rekindled.

Anthony had delivered his message but stood his ground as well, staring at the man with a sly smile on his face as if he knew perfectly well what effect his appearance was having on Miles' libido. He was wearing his sports uniform that he seemed to have outgrown and did not leave much hidden to the man's imagination.

"Haven't you got things to do?" asked Miles, a catch in his voice. Then suddenly without thinking twice about it, added, "How's that thigh of yours, still hurting?"

The innuendo was clear and Anthony jumped at the opening, his smile widening.

"Not that good, I think you should have a look again. You know, after the meeting. There won't be anybody in here," said the boy, indicating the infirmary with a movement of his head. "Too bad we haven't got time now," he added as he cupped his crotch with one hand.

Miles had been exposed to the boy's direct ways a few times already, but he was again taken aback by it.

"The meeting should be over before five… there should be plenty of time for us to… ah… look you over before dinner."

He was shocked by his own frankness as the words left his mouth. How could he say that? He didn't want to say that. Those spoken words sent a chill down his spine while his cock hardened in his slacks. Indeed, there was no taking them back now.

"I win then," said the boy, his tongue passing over his lips in yearning.

Anthony moved forward as if he wanted his reward right then, but after a slight hesitation, he turned around to leave, his perfect butt stretching the shorts' thin material.

"I'll be here at five. Don't be late, sir, please," he added, coyly rubbing a hand up one of his cheeks before bouncing off down the hall.

Miles stood in the corridor, alone. His hand went to his crotch and lingered there. It was all set now. It would be today, and it would be with Anthony. He had taken the bait, would he regret it? He didn't think so, and there was no time for regrets anymore.

***

As he entered the meeting room, Miles found them all watching TV. It was tuned to the news; it seemed as if nothing else was shown on every channel anymore.

Only one hour left, he thought as he took a seat, just one hour before I meet up with Anthony. It might become the longest sixty minutes of his life and he knew he was going to have great difficulty concentrating on anything else.

He sat in silence, absentmindedly hearing what was being discussed between those gathered at the table. He was still feeling stunned by the decision he had made regarding the boy. Slowly, it was dawning on him that for the first time in his life, he had acknowledged his true nature; he had put his reputation, his life, in the hands of a mere boy.

The president was scheduled to speak again the following day and pronounce where the country currently stood. Russia was accusing the US of having created the Virus. The North Korean dictator was also making accusations against the Western world while claiming that the virus had not yet entered his country. The Arabs were accusing Israel, while most of the rest of the world was blaming China, the country from which the disease originally sprouted. The death count was rising at an alarming rate in every country, and in China, the ferals were taking hold of the streets in most of the major population centers. The Ministry of Public Security and the PLA had all but disintegrated, and what was left of the government had been diluted into small paramilitary factions, fighting for whatever power could be found.

"Will it come to that here, too?" commented Daniels in a tired voice.

"Sorry I'm late, Headmaster Daniels," answered Miles. "If what Perry says is true, it's a strong possibility. Look at our situation; we have four teachers that are sick, and one missing. We will need at least four more to watch and take care of them, not counting Shirley. That's almost twenty percent of the entire staff. It seems logical to think that more will become sick, and where does that put us?… In deep shit! I'm not even taking into account the feral problem. It will be the same everywhere in every layer of society."

"That's my fear," said Daniels as he cut the sound from the television before changing the topic, "still no information on Rufus Aims."

"Unfortunately, no, it's like he disappeared into thin air. We'll keep looking though."

"You've handled quite a few problems today. There has been some contention concerning how you dealt with the new cases of flu, but I approve what you did. We have no choice in that matter, the rules that we set must be followed."

"Thank you, sir."

"It appears to me that everyone around this table agrees."

There was an obvious concurrence all around the table, most nodding their heads at the headmaster's statement. Shirley Cahill was there for the meeting, along with Raymond Tools, Roger Shaft, Ted Ackerton, Jon Kent, Mister Hartz, and of course, Carl Fisher.

"Now that you're here, we can begin. Let's hear from everybody present and see what has been accomplished and what's left to do."

During the next thirty minutes or so, Miles was not really listening or taking notes, as he should have been. Anthony, and what would hopefully occur in the next hour, was at the forefront of his mind. He had had sex with boys before, and he wasn't expecting this to be much different. Then again, it potentially could be very much so. Anthony was not a street child or prostitute he would pay for a few minutes of pleasure and never see again without consequences. It may well be something else entirely.

He had so many questions without answers. His biggest fear was that it was a trap: but why, for what purpose? Did it matter anymore? The boy had come to him; there had been no hints or innuendos. He had given the boy no outward signs that he was in any way interested, at least none that he was conscious of. With Sven, to some extent, it may have been so, but not with Anthony. Was there some hidden motive behind the offer for sex, or was Anthony truly sexually interested in him?

He heard snippets of this or that from the meeting but could not really make anything out of them. Someone mentioning that the freezers, cold rooms, and cupboards had all been filled with food, somebody else was commenting that their fuel reservoirs were at full capacity. A third person saying that the few solar panel powered buildings had been checked, two of the wells were in working order with drinkable water and they were working on the third, and that all the vehicles were ready for use. Shirley said that there was an abundance of medicines of all kinds, and Mr. Daniels said something along the lines of their hope for an autonomy of three to four months since they were close to summer.

The conversations were buzzing all around him, but all he was thinking about, the image that came back again and again, was of those tight boy's buns stretching Anthony's shorts.

"Mister Dunn… Miles." Daniels voice snapped him out of it.

"Yes, sorry, I was thinking about something."

"How did the weapon training go?"

Every eye in the room was now turned towards him, waiting expectantly for him to speak. With some difficulty, Miles dashed the thoughts of Anthony from his mind, straightened himself in his seat, and cleared his throat.

"Rather well. We have enough people capable of holding a gun for a permanent watch at the school hospital, but I'm sure we will need more soon."

"I think some of the prefects know how to handle weapons, they should be put on the list," said Fisher, "I have also selected twenty reliable boys that should become prefects and be given responsibilities, and I have twenty more names ready in case we need them."

Miles had not thought of retrieving Walt's list of candidates. It had been a mistake, he should have thought of it after Louise Simon's warning. He could not let Fisher alone decide who would be prefect.

"I'll have a look at those names, and I might have a few suggestions myself."

He saw a look of surprise in Carl's eyes at his words, followed by one of annoyance. The man was plainly used to being the one that decided things for everyone else, and he didn't seem to like a competing suggestion.

"I'll also need to check the boys that can be entrusted with weapons…if you don't mind," he added to avoid antagonizing the man. There was no need for that.

"Of course, that's only natural. You are in charge of security, after all. You can add a few names too."

While agreeing, Fisher had also enforced the validity of his own choices. His smile was genuine.

"That's settled then. We'll have twenty more prefects tomorrow, as soon as that list is definitive," Daniels spoke up, "before I let you all go, there is one last matter I wanted to address. You're all well aware, and I'm speaking of the teachers here, that our boys are becoming restless and unruly. We have been holding classes every day since the beginning of this crisis. We need to find alternatives, while not having them running around freely."

"Mister Tools."

"Yes, sir?"

"I want you to prepare that play you planned for Parent's Day. Perhaps you can also show a few others from previous years that would make for notable entertainment and distract our boys for a few hours."

"It can be done, sir, we've been ready for a few weeks now. I can have them perform previous plays too, we would just need to refresh the memory of our young actors and get some additional props. It's quite feasible to have it ready for next week."

"Do it then. Could we present the first one on Friday?"

"I can do it."

"Excellent. What was the play again? I heard the boys had a lot of fun with it."

"Yes they did; it is Lord of the Flies, the stage play that was adapted by Nigel Williams from William Golding's book. There was also a famous movie by Peter Brook as you probably all know and a remake…." Tools was seemingly ready to add many more details, you felt his passion for the subject, but Daniels put a stop to it.

"Excellent choice, Tools"

"Thank you headmaster."

Lord of the Flies, that seems quite appropriate, thought Miles who had a precise recollection of the book and both movies.

"Yes we all know it, of course, a classic. I thought there could also be a small performance from our choir at a later date. Tools, can you also arrange that with our choirmaster?"

"Yep, with pleasure."

"Good. Now, I wanted to discuss a matter with Mister Aims, but now it will have to fall on your shoulders, Carl. Will you coordinate athletic contests with the sports' coaches? I would like them to organize different events and competitions during the weekend for each of the houses, with all the boys either participating or spectating. That will take care of the remaining days of this week and bring a welcome respite to everyone in the school. The play will be Friday afternoon, with sporting events taking place over the weekend. We'll come up with something else after that."

"I wanted to know," interrupted Miss Cahill with a pout, "what do we do if we have ferals over the next few days?"

"What do you mean, Shirley? What do you want us to do?" asked Daniels.

"I understand that they do not die and are extremely dangerous, I was hoping Mister Dunn could tell us what we should do," Shirley said and glanced in his direction. "I think we should be prepared. We will not be able to face such a situation easily."

"We are prepared for now, Shirley," replied Miles, "if the menace comes from the outside, run – hide – fight, should be our immediate response. Whether it's an "active shooter" or a "feral," we need to react in the same way and follow our training. For those in the gymnasium, we have them restrained. If they do turn, stay away from them and contact me." He knew he had not answered her true meaning and no one wanted to discuss that yet.

"I agree with Mister Dunn," said Daniels. "We know what to do. We must treat the victims of the flu the same way we would treat any other threat. They are all dangerous, and we need to keep those residing in the gymnasium restrained at all times."

Looking around the room, Mr. Daniels then asked if there were any other questions or concerns. Miles looked at his watch; he didn't want to be late or risk missing a single minute of what he hoped lay in store for him. He too looked around the room, but anxiously, thinking, please, let no one ask any more questions or bring up any concerns. After a moment, that seemed like an eternity, Daniels spoke up.

"My friends, you've all done an excellent job. I'll see you all at dinner, you are free to go."

Miles was the first to stand. He had to force himself to walk at a normal pace and not run down the hallway like a sex-starved maniac. On the other side of the table he saw Carl Fisher, who obviously wanted to have a word with him. Miles adroitly avoided his gaze and exited the room before the man had the time to call him back. A minute later he was down the stairs and not long after he stood in the infirmary. He checked his watch and noted that he was five minutes early.

Anthony was not there yet; would he come? Miles had not considered that possibility. Was it all just a cruel prank? A trap? He would soon know. Trying to calm himself down, he sat on the bed that had temporarily belonged to Sven and again inhaled the sweet boy's smell that still lingered in the room. He did not want to scare Anthony, and he did not want to hurt him. He had to take control of both his fears and his desires.

He heard footsteps in the corridor and thought that they probably belonged to some of the participants from the meeting, who were returning to their offices or merely passing by. Would Cahill come here and ruin all his chances with Anthony? If the boy showed up, what would she think? Perhaps he should hide himself and avoid being seen. He should never have accepted it in the first place! He had put himself at risk; he had been stupid! Would it be worth it?

Then, light footsteps approached. The infirmary door opened and closed, and more assuring footsteps came straight towards the infirmary dormitory. The door squeaked open… it was Anthony. He was dressed in his school uniform this time, ready for dinner. A white shirt and dark gray shorts that were tight against his boyish figure, and white ankle socks and black shoes adorned his feet. An impish smile lit up his face when he saw the man, and within half a second, he was pulling on his tie and undoing the knot.

"Glad you could make it, Mister Dunn."

"Wouldn't want to miss it. I definitely wanted to check that painful thigh of yours. It should be alright by now, but I still feel that it needs my attention."

Anthony tossed the tie onto the nearest bed and then pulled his smart phone from his pocket and set it carefully on the bedside table.

"I think you'll have to check much more than my thigh. You'll see that most of my parts are quite interesting and also worth your attention."

"I'm afraid you might be right about that."

"No need to be afraid, you'll love it," said the boy while undoing his shirt's buttons.

Miles wondered how that boy, barely thirteen, could be so at ease and enjoying himself in such a situation. It was contrary to all the assertions of our society. Miles wondered if he should ask a few questions before going any further, such as what had suddenly made the boy so savvy and demanding. It was so unexpected that he thought it might be suspect. Sven, the other night, had been full of hesitation: uncertain, awkward, and as apprehensive as Miles was. Now, this boy was behaving like a pro and with a welcome eagerness. He said nothing though, for at that moment, he didn't want to hear any of the boy's answers.

The shirt was off, this time delicately set on the bed beside the tie. The shoes came off next as the boy sat on the bed in front of Miles. Obviously, Anthony was very aware of the effect this simple strip tease was having on him. Miles delighted in the view of his slender torso. There was almost no baby fat left, and the flexing muscles were not as defined as they would be in later years. He could see some ribs showing, but not that much. Seated, the shorts went up Anthony's thighs, revealing more creamy flesh above the appealing and not too bony knees.

Holding the man's gaze, Anthony pulled off his socks next in a graceful and slow movement. It was once more obvious that he was used to putting on a show in that way; he knew how seductive he was and was fully aware of the effect it was having on Miles. It made the whole process much more agreeable to Miles, who was still fighting with the guilt attached to his attraction to boys but whose member was hard as a rock and straining to get free. Miles would not be the first to make use of this boy's charms.

"Let me help you with that," said Anthony as he winked at him, "and then you can help me with my shorts."

He knelt in from of the man and caressed the bulging crotch, seemingly appreciative of what he found there.

"You're big; that's good, I like'em big," he murmured, licking his lips in anticipation.

His fingers delicately unfastened the belt and buttons before pulling down the zipper. The cock head was visible, poking through the slit in the man's boxers. Anthony expertly uncovered the member entirely with one hand while seizing the man's shaft with the other and bringing it to his velvety mouth. Miles let out a small gasp.

After giving the purple head some more ministrations, sucking, licking, making slurping noises, teasing it with his teeth while taking care to please and not to hurt, Anthony raised his head and looked the man squarely in the eyes. Clearly, he was expressing that he was the one in charge. He pumped the shaft a few times with an assured smile on his face.

"Better?" he asked. "My turn now, take these shorts off me please."

He stood up in front of Miles, his own bulge quite evident and now close to Miles face as the man knelt down.

"With pleasure," answered Miles ecstatically.

As if in a dream, his hand slid up the boy's firm leg and thigh, taking a few seconds to caress the supple, delicate skin before going further into the fabric of the boy's shorts. The little devil wasn't wearing any underwear! He slipped his hand ever upward until he could feel the soft little sac that lay between the boy's legs. He gently massaged each of the two small marbles inside, and as he felt upwards to take hold of the boy's hardened twig, it was Anthony's turn to whimper.

"Take it off now, please," Anthony begged and kissed his lips.

Miles took his time; pulling out his hand to stroke the boy's clothed buns, and then pushing the shorts down slowly to enjoy the texture of the child's luscious skin, testing the firmness and elasticity of his flesh. The shorts fell to the ground, and the boy stepped out of them leaving them discarded.

"How do I feel?" the boy whispered seductively in his ear.

"The best," answered Miles as he kissed his neck.

"Do you want to do it with or without lube? I don't mind either way."

Holy cow! What a lucky guy I am. He wants to go all the way, thought Miles.

"Never thought of that! How stupid! But it would be better with lube, I think."

He had done it both ways but he knew he was more likely to hurt the boy without it. Damn, this kid's full of surprises. Anthony looked the expert here, enjoying himself as much as Miles was. It was very different from those rushed affairs of Miles' past, with a passive boy waiting for it to be over and the unsettling feelings that came afterwards. This time there would be no guilt, no loss of control, no crying, injured, boy; that was in the past, never to happen again. It was a completely different venture for him, and it was also what he had been striving for all his life. Miles didn't want to ruin this wonderful experience by potentially hurting the boy in any way.

"There's some KY here, don't worry, but first let me see you naked," said Anthony as he pulled on the man's t-shirt.

Miles let the boy undress him, catching a kiss or caress wherever he could. First the t-shirt came off, followed by the shoes and socks, then the pants and finally, the underwear. Man and boy were now both fully nude, contemplating and staring at each other's bodies. Miles brought the boy in closer for a kiss.

Anthony seemed favorably impressed; his hand coursing over the man's very fit body lingering on the scars that had been so fascinating to Sven. He fell to his knees again and took hold of the man's shaft, engulfing it with ease despite its size. Where had he learned that? wondered Miles. But this was not the time for questions and answers. It would come later, perhaps. For now, he was barely able to stand; his legs quivering at the sensations caused by the boy's hot mouth around his cock and soon had to sit on the bed.

Miles was on new territory and the boy was still leading. Anthony was not an object to be used and discarded; he was a living, breathing being with a will and ideas of his own. He would not be manipulated to best serve the man's pleasure. In fact, Anthony was the one making the decisions for the both of them. Miles was merely going along and finding his pleasure increased by following the boy's initiatives. It was miraculous.

Anthony's face rose and fell from the man's crotch as the boy worked his rod, using his tongue to lick and suck, his hands playing with the sack and balls to enhance the pleasure. He knew when Miles was close and how to postpone the orgasm. With both hands on the boy's head, Miles accompanied his efforts in perfect harmony. He was close and the boy knew it. With his mouth still wrapped around the throbbing cock, Anthony raised his gaze to look in his partner's eyes at just the right moment to bring him over.

Miles acquiesced and the sensations hit him with force and joy. The boy did not let go of his cock head but remained fastened as each jet of cum coated his palate before being ingested, just a trickle escaping his skillful deed. With one finger, he caught it to bring it back inside his mouth and swallowed. All the while, he had stayed erect.

"You don't taste bad, you know," he said with a knowing smile. "Let's get to the main course now; we don't want to be late for dinner."

He stood up with grace, went to a cupboard close to the entrance, and brought back a tube of KY Jelly. He seemed at ease with his nakedness, his erect cock was swinging back and forth as he walked. There was no sign of any shame or embarrassment in his behavior, but instead it was as if what they were doing was the most natural thing in the world. Miles was fascinated, and as the boy started to apply the lube in the most stimulating manner possible, he quickly became hard again. Damn, he thought, I haven't been able to get hard that quickly since I was twelve years old! He wanted to bring the boy to him and lie with him on the bed, but he was gently pushed back.

"Let me do it, okay? It's my gift to you."

"What did I do to earn it?"

"I like you."

Was it that simple for the boy, he wondered.

When satisfied of his work, Anthony bent over to give Miles a nice view of his backside. He sensually applied some of the lube onto his anus and then pushed two fingers inside to relax the muscle; it was done fast and efficiently, yet carefully and in the most erotic way. He then turned to face the man, straddled his lap, and sat on his cock, letting it penetrate his readied hole almost effortlessly.

Miles let out a single long moan during the descent until the boy had bottomed out. They stayed glued together in this way for a couple of minutes, kissing passionately and exploring each other with their hands while they let the boy's chute get used to Miles' girth.

Slowly the boy started moving up and down his throbbing shaft; rubbing his own stick on his partner's unyielding abs. Both were grunting in the throes of ecstasy, their faces becoming warm from the other's heated breath. Their hands swept across each other's backs, massaging and rubbing, feeling each muscle that lay beneath the perspiring skin. Their lips met and they kissed with open mouths, lustfully and with a burning hunger, like two starving wolves trying to devour each other.

They settled into a steady rhythm, Miles' cock being squeezed by Anthony's tight anus with every inward thrust. Anthony mirrored his movements, raising himself as the cock slid outwards and then pushing himself back down as it pierced him again. With each inward thrust, Anthony would moan softly into the man's mouth, and Miles responded by nibbling softly on the boy's tongue. They went faster, Miles taking the lead as he pushed up to meet the boy's moves.

"Yes, sir, faster… harder…"

"Do you…uh…want it rough?"

Anthony pulled his head back a bit to peer into his face. The look Miles saw in his eyes was one of total desire, total lust. The boy whimpered as Miles thrust in again, and then nodded his head.

"Mhmm…"

Miles raised himself from the mattress with his cock still embedded deep inside the boy. He kissed Anthony and then turned around, laying himself on top of the boy on the bed. Grabbing Anthony's knees, he pushed them back and placed them on either side of the child's head. The kid's ass was uplifted now, adequately angled for maximum and vigorous penetration.

"Here we go."

He started pumping hard and deep, setting the pace, and despite his passion, he stayed attentive to ensure that the boy was enjoying the ride as much as he was. While formidable, it was not the aggressive nature of his previous experiences. He was in control and was sure he could stop if necessary. For the first time, he felt that he was giving as much pleasure as he was receiving.

He was a lucky man; this would have never been possible with Sven, who was an inexperienced virgin. Anthony seemed to know all there was to know concerning anal sex. The boy had a great mastery of every muscle involved to avoid discomfort while maximizing his partner's pleasure. If Miles was being misled, the boy deserved an Oscar.

The boy came a few droplets of clear fluid, expressing the strength of that very first productive orgasm. They had no time to marvel at it though, before it was the man's turn to explode, which he did deep into the boy's bowels.

"Ah!… God!… So good!…" Miles howled.

They collapsed onto each other and lay there for some time, heaving heavily as they caught their breath, their bodies soaked with the sweat of lovemaking. When Anthony had finally regained some of his composure, he reached down between his legs and rubbed a fingertip across the slit of his softening penis.

"Look," he said excitedly, "I came!"

He raised his finger up to the man's face as proof of the event. Sure enough, there was a tiny drop of clear liquid on it.

"Looks like… you did. Is… Is it your… first time?" Miles was somewhat out of breath.

"Yes, it is."

"May I… may I taste it?"

"Sure, here."

Miles took the finger into his mouth and Anthony proudly wiped it against the tip of his tongue.

"Doesn't taste like much, sorry to say," he stated, with the finger still in his mouth, "but your finger tastes great."

He put more of them inside and said, "I think I could eat them all, for starters."

"You're not the first one who finds me to their taste and wants to eat me," Anthony giggled.

"I agree with them, and like you said earlier, all of your parts are worthy of my attention."

He let go of the boy's fingers with some regret and bent down to lick the boy's cock head, which was still leaking a bit. His tongue then followed the hard stick down to the smooth sack and balls before going back up the same way, lapping at the few drying droplets that adorned the child's taut belly.

"We have to go or people might notice we're missing," observed Anthony.

"I would stay with you till the end of the world," said Miles, entranced.

"I'm kinda hungry. That could take a while."

Perhaps not as much as you would think, thought Miles

"My cum appetizer wasn't enough? There's more for you if you'd like."

"We have to go. I'm a growing boy and I need much more than that, even though it was quite good."

He affectionately pushed Miles back and climbed off the bed to reach for his clothes. Miles enjoyed the view of the boy's naked ass and the smooth sack between the boy's legs as he bent to pick the shorts up off the floor.

"Don't you want to take a shower before leaving?"

"No time, it's already late for me. Besides, I want to keep your smell with me."

Although disappointed that he wouldn't get to enjoy a shared shower with the boy, Miles was quite touched by that last sentence which seemed quite genuine.

"You're leaking," he said, admiring the drops of cum that were dribbling down the beautiful bum in front of him.

"Yes, it can happen," the boy used a sheet to wipe himself, "notably with a big one like yours. I came prepared."

He then pulled a wad of cotton from a pocket and pushed it into the orifice before putting on his shorts. Once again, Miles was shocked by the boy's casual attitude in such an extraordinary situation. He had to shake himself; no, he was not dreaming.

"You're right, we'd better go. It was good of you to insist."

"You're the adult here; it should be up to you."

The boy was not only a great fuck; he had wits as well. Layer by layer his adorable forms were slowly disappearing, and as the boy slipped back into his school uniform the experienced and knowledgeable sexual being gave way again to the usual appearance of a schoolboy's childlike innocence.

"You go ahead first; I'll follow you in a few minutes."

"Okay sir," he said after carefully hiding the lube back in the cupboard. He then turned around to face Miles again.

"Same time tomorrow?"

His eyes narrowed in a sexy manner and his tongue passed over his lips in a way now well known to Miles. Was it a question or was it a declaration? Not waiting for an answer, the boy turned and was gone. Miles was left alone, lying naked on the bed. The smell of sex lingered in the room, the taste of the boy's sweaty skin and fingers on his tongue. This is what life is all about, he thought and wished – not for the first time – that love shared between a boy and a man could be seen by the world as a healthy, natural thing.

He went for a fast shower, dressed slowly, and then headed in the direction of the cafeteria. As he was walking, his mind was both empty and full at the same time. Most of his tensions and worries had been wiped clean and replaced by an eagerness: the need to lay with that boy again and again. As he drew closer to the dining hall, the clamor of many young voices became louder. His moment of bliss had not lasted nearly long enough. He would have liked to find a place of peace to let him put his thoughts into order, but it would not be so. It could not be so.

***

After Anthony arrived at the dining hall, and before taking his place in the food line, he scanned the teacher's tables to see if Carl was there yet. He spotted the man quickly; he was talking with Headmaster Daniels. Carl had seated himself in a position that allowed him to easily see who was coming in. Obviously, he had been waiting for the boy's appearance. Anthony gave the sign they had agreed upon, which meant that his mission had been a success. He had the proof in his pocket: his smartphone. He had checked it immediately after leaving the infirmary. The video he had secretly recorded was perfect, with high definition image and sound. He was quite proud of himself. He was also ravished.

There were only three boys ahead of him in the queue, and he was soon able to serve himself a generous helping of fried chicken, corn on the cob, mashed potatoes, salad, and a slice of apple pie for dessert. He was almost a man now that he had cum for the first time, and he had a man-sized appetite after his lovemaking episode. He seated himself between Milo and Ochii and immediately announced his accomplishments to them in hushed tones. The slightly younger boys were impressed. They wanted to be part of the "big boy's" club, and not considered little boys anymore. Anthony felt good again, perhaps for the first time since that fateful weekend. He thought that he now had a good chance of getting Carl to make sure that Greg left him alone.

One thing was troubling him though, Mr. Dunn.

He liked the man. Having sex with him had been great on two accounts. First, the man had a very fit and powerful body. Anthony felt safe in his embrace, he even felt… loved? Now that he had seen the duplicity of Carl and the indifference of Ivor, he hesitated to use this word. Carl and Ivor had other boys. He knew he was one among many, and not that special, contrary to what he had been told. He had learned it the hard way. He had been a gullible little boy. Now he knew better. He even dared himself to think that it would not be the same with Mister Dunn.

The other thing he had liked was that it had been very different from his previous experiences. He had been the one in control, at least until the end when the man had let go and taken him for his pleasure. Before that point, he had been the one deciding for the two of them, a bit like during his romp with Milo the other day, but this time it was with a grown man. With his older partners, it was always the boy that was the submissive one, doing what was necessary to satisfy and bring them to orgasm. He almost always came second.

He had cum for the very first time too. Was that a sign?

Carl would want that movie as quickly as possible. Anthony couldn't give it to him here, not in the dining hall, not where anyone could see them, Carl had been clear to him about that. What initially had been a game was becoming more sinister. He had won that game, achieved his goal, and Carl knew it, but now that matter was not so easy or clear with victory in hand. Anthony was having second thoughts about betraying Mr. Dunn. He was having very strong thoughts. What could he do? Disappoint Carl, jeopardize his position in the club, and risk having Greg get his revenge? Carl merely used him, but Dunn…well…with Dunn, it was hard to describe the feelings he suddenly had. He was having feelings that he hadn't experienced before. He felt like he was on cloud nine with Dunn, and these feelings lasted even after he squirted for the first time.

He longed to feel the man inside him again, to be shaken by those relentless, powerful thrusts, to be pinned beneath the man's strong arms. He had been right not to take a shower. He still could smell the man's musk on his skin, and caught a whiff of Dunn's sperm when he lowered his head towards his crotch. From time to time he glanced toward the entrance, looking for the arrival of Dunn. He already missed him.

What to do? Carl ran the school and most of the boys within it; Dunn was the new guy. It was too risky; logic told him that he should turn the movie over as planned, but his emotions were powerful. He decided that he would keep the movie to himself for now. Carl wanted it and he had it, but he wouldn't give it up just yet. How far would the club go to get it? What would they do if he didn't give it to them? He could always tell them it had not worked, that he had not set it up right; that he would try again. He would avoid Carl tonight, make up an excuse tomorrow, and see what happened. He needed time to think about this, it wasn't easy. It should have been easy, but now it wasn't.

***

Miles entered the cafeteria ten minutes after Anthony, and almost immediately, he was met by the boy's penetrating gaze. The boy passed his tongue over his lips as if Miles was a much more appetizing dish than the food in front of him. It was definitely a strange feeling to be the one sought after by a child barely thirteen, but it was not a disagreeable one and something he would gladly get used to.

Farther away, he saw Sven, who was also watching him enter, and even may have been looking for him. William was beside the boy as usual, and Miles allowed himself to acknowledge them with a movement of the hand that he repeated when he saw Matthew and his group of buddies. He then went to his table where Fisher had reserved him a seat beside Daniels. It seemed to Miles as though everyone was looking at him. Could they know? Did it show in any way? He subtly checked himself, looking for some clue that could betray him. He felt like he was in one of those dreams, the ones where he had forgotten to put on some essential clothing, like his pants.

"Here comes our hard working security adviser," said Fisher. "I hope you can still make some leisure time for yourself, we don't want to wear you out. You have quite a few followers amongst our boys too, I see. They can be very invasive and exacting, don't you think?"

The welcome was warm but also ironic. There was glee in the way it was told as if Carl was privy of information only the two of them had knowledge of.

"No, the boys don't bother me at all. But it's true, I've become attached to some of them, or perhaps they've gotten attached to me. Sorry for being late again."

"Boys! …I have known a few of them quite well myself over the years and I agree that they can be very agreeable and appealing. They can also become little monsters if you don't know how to manage them."

Miles was overcome by another bout of paranoia. Why was Fisher saying those things? Did he know something? He had to! But it was impossible. It had happened only minutes before.

"I'm not used to them like you are, Carl. I've had very few occasions to be in contact with children so far, and it's all new to me."

"But you like it, I can see that. I've known many like you before; I am very good at spotting that. Welcome to the club, Miles."

The club, Anthony, the VIP weekends, sex with boys, Greg Stilson, his mentor Carl Fisher, Simons warnings; was it all linked? Was Carl trying to pass him a message? Why? Could it all be a coincidence, paranoia? His instincts told him he was close to the truth. He had put all that aside but he just needed a few more elements to get the whole picture.

"I am just a beginner compared to you. You've been at it for years, haven't you?"

"You can say that, Miles. We will have to discuss that more thoroughly, but this is not the moment," answered Fisher with a knowing smile before changing the subject. "Did you get some news from your daughter, Daniels? You must be so worried!"

"I am, but for now they are fine. I just got off the phone with her about a half hour ago."

"Glad to hear it. Some of the boys haven't been able to reach their families, or so I've heard."

"Yes, it is of great concern to me. We haven't been able to reach them either, some we haven't heard from in days now. There is not much more we can do for the moment considering the circumstances. Most of them are in Asia though, in Korea and China. Let's hope the situation finally gets better there."

"Doesn't look like it will," said Tools darkly.

"That's why we need some distractions. I must say you always astound us with the quality of your work. You'll see on Friday, Mister Dunn. With the play we're putting on, you won't see the difference between it and a professional performance; acting, costumes, sets, everything is top notch. I really don't know how you do it Tools."

"Lots of time and dedication I would say," admitted Tools with the faintest blush.

"True, you also have the talent to get the boys to adhere and commit to the project in an amazing way. Don't know how you achieve that," said Fisher, apparently being sincere.

"I just try my best. I hope you won't be disappointed, Mister Dunn, after such high praises."

"I'm sure I won't, I'm very anxious to see it." Notably the costumes, thought Miles, or rather the lack of them if I recall.

***

Carl Fisher was observing Miles Dunn with great interest. Even if the Shanxi flu had been taking center stage lately, he was still following his other agenda: better safe than sorry. Anthony had done his job, and Dunn, whether the end of the world was coming or not, would not be a menace to him anymore.

He had been right all along; he knew how to detect boylovers, and he had never been wrong before. It was quite a relief to him too: that man had been a real threat to the club and to himself. He had loved using the innuendos in the conversation, knowing that if he wished, he could destroy Dunn with a few simple words. Dunn had to have understood at least some of what was being implied. Like most of those that had preceded him, Dunn did not yet fully realize that he had been discovered or that he was at Carl's mercy. Carl would make sure he understood that, soon.

That was always the best moment for him, when they understood they had no exit left, and they were cornered. He loved the shadow that passed over their eyes, meaning that they thought all was lost. Afterwards, they were more than ready to listen to him. He had to do nothing more than step forward and show them the only choice they had left: the one that made them his puppets. He worked the same way with some of the boys; the procedure wasn't that different. He simply tweaked it a little to match their ages. He just had to have them do something they would be ashamed of and would never want anyone to know about. After that, they did everything he asked of them, things that were much worse than what had brought them to him in the first place. Carl liked to call it his "ensurance trap," trapping them to ensure that they would follow his orders.

People were like that, very much inconsistent. It was all for his benefit.

He needed to find a way to reward Anthony and make sure that the incentive was strong enough to make him stay close to Dunn; the boy did not appear to like the role he had to play, but Carl needed him. He needed someone to keep tabs on Dunn, and work as his little spy.

Now, if things went back to normal, he had his insurance. But if Perry had been right and it was the end, having access to Miles' information was vital. Carl was sure that Dunn had lied and kept a lot of it to himself. It was what he would have done himself; keep the information secret and release bits and pieces as needed. His instinct that he trusted very much had been honed by years of teaching boys and evaluating their capacity at deception.

He knew that the informant was Matthew's father, Dunn's second lie. He had checked the boy's files and found that Matthew's father was a virologist, which fit perfectly. He would have to find a way to get his hands on the boy in due time. He would love to get more than just his hands on him, but that was premature. There would be time for that later, one way or the other. What mattered now was to get Anthony in his pocket as a spy and get all the relevant information from him. He would play his cards at the best possible moment, no sooner, no later. The timing would be essential to maximize his gain.

As he was casually conversing, he was looking at the boys scattered around the dining hall, searching for the best candidate to share his bed that night. He had decided that he would have one boy every night from now on, at least until the crisis had been resolved. His gaze kept returning to young Matthew and he regretted that the boy was not available for now, nor would he be for some time yet. His second choice was little Enrico, but he feared that it was again too soon and would be too complicated. He had to be more reasonable and pick a more seasoned companion this time.

Milo was tempting but untried; Carl would pick him up soon and see if he agreed with the praise Ivor had given him. Ochii was a worthy and talented candidate, as well as young Sean who was tireless. Why not Anthony? It could be part of his reward, give him the center stage for some time. No, it could jeopardize his building a relationship with Dunn; he had to keep some distance from the boy for the time being.

He looked around the room again and finally smiled to himself. But of course! It had to be the lively young Alex. He had unfinished business with that one, and he definitely wanted to test how far he could go with the lad. It was a desire he had missed fulfilling on that recent last occasion. Carl observed him using his charms on Sam Lewis, he was a natural and always ready for a good buggering. Carl would see that he got more than he bargained for that evening.

Once his choice had been made, he took pleasure in making an inventory of his sex partners of previous years from the boys that surrounded him. He counted twenty-two, all current members of the club and most still sexually active. The older ones were in charge of grooming and selecting the younger boys for him and the younger boys were fresh pickings for any member of the club. He always needed fresh meat since he usually lost interest in them after a year or two. The only exception was Greg, with whom he had remained intimate until the boy was almost fifteen.

His wandering gaze fell on Cole Anderson, their star swimmer who had won more competitions than Carl could recall and who hoped to go to the Olympics one day. The boy would be the perfect gift for his friend Ivor. That is, if the world more or less returned to what it had been before.

He had finally been able to talk with Ivor after several failed attempts: the man had mostly been preoccupied with his crumbling empire. Carl knew that Ivor had invested a lot in Asia, and it clearly justified his concern. The man was in a hurry, he had no time or information for his old friend. Carl sensed panic there the way a mosquito can sense blood pulsing beneath the skin.

The conversation they had over the phone last night had ended abruptly, and Carl had difficulty making sense of it. Was it his money and power that Ivor was so afraid to lose, or was there more to it? Carl had tried to make him talk but got nothing out of the man concerning the Shanxi flu. In his turn, Carl wasn't even able to tell him about Perry or the situation at the school. It was probably just as well, the fact that the man had been mainly preoccupied by his big monetary losses meant that his always-reliable informants did not share the same information as Perry or Dunn. The coming of a better world may not be a dream come true in the end, and Carl had to prepare for that, as well.

Alfred Anderson, Cole's father, was seated at the next table over. He did not appear too affected yet by the loss of drugs that had been supplied to him, but the sense of urgency would come. The man was a raving addict and had used it all up already. He would come and beg Carl for more, and Carl would tell him that he had to "make a payment" first. He'd have to pay for the new doses, but first he'd have to pay back his considerable debts. Carl would simply have to suggest that the payments did not have to be made with money, and Alfred would do the rest. It would be a first time for Carl: to have a willing parent bring his own boy to the club. It was a bold and risky move perhaps, yet promised to be quite rewarding.

People were starting to leave the cafeteria all around him. It was time to go back to his apartments and get a message to Alex about joining him in his room after his shower.

***

Sven had been watching Mister Dunn all this time, thinking of a way to be alone with him again while he tried to catch the man's attention. It had been so embarrassing the other night when Walt almost surprised them. He would have hated to be seen naked by his friend, or worse yet, having sex. It was not shame of the act itself; at that moment, he thought that there was nothing he wanted more in the world. It was the fear of losing his privacy and being exposed during such a crucial time for him. He didn't want to think of the consequences for him or for Mister Dunn if they had been caught. Luckily, it had been Walt, who, he was quite sure, would never tell anyone. However, if it had been someone else it could have been devastating. They had to be careful, very careful. Only Mr. Dunn could devise a way for that. They would have to find a place that could be locked, where no one would have the need to come and disturb them.

The more he thought about it, the more it seemed impossible. At least when they were at the infirmary, they were close to each other. They could talk, and even touch each other… but not anymore. He felt miserable and had no appetite. Beside him, William had finished dessert and asked if he could finish Sven's, "if he wasn't going to eat it." Propping his head up with his hand, Sven sighed and pushed the untouched slice of apple pie across to William. At least somebody should enjoy it, he thought. He wanted to try to find some way to talk with the man, to feel his touch, his presence. It was becoming obsessive.

"I'm done," said William as he turned to Sven, "what are you waiting for? We've got our video game to finish and there's not much time before lights out. Are you coming?"

"I'll follow you in a bit. Go ahead, there's someone I want to see first."

"Who, Walt?"

"Yes, Walt."

William shrugged his shoulders, then rose, and left the table, taking his empty tray along with him. Walt… what did he think about that night? Had he seen or heard something? He had been acting strange since then. Should I tell him? Should I ask for his advice? Would he understand? Walt like William certainly was his other most trusted friend, someone Sven felt that he could tell anything. He would never think of telling William, true, but that was different, Walt was… what? Older? Wiser? Sven sighed again and once more looked over at Mr. Dunn.

The man was still talking with Daniels and Fisher, while everyone else was leaving. It was not going to work. Perhaps he had time to see Walt, but where was he? He was nowhere to be seen; he had probably already left the dining hall.

Sven felt sad and almost desperate. With all the events happening, he was scared. He felt utterly alone, even though he was lucky to have Walt to confide in and Mr. Dunn to protect him. He wanted to have them close by all the time, to watch over him, and he especially wanted to be back in the man's embrace where he could stay safe forever, but it was not going to happen.

***

Miles had been watching Sven out of the corner of his eye. The boy had been staring at him practically the entire dinner hour. His friend had left him and the boy was now alone. Unfortunately, he could not leave Daniels and go see him, which was probably what the boy was hoping for, but it would not happen. Now that he had Anthony, he had no real reason to take any further risks.

He had not liked Fisher's comments; he did not want to expose himself any more than necessary: that was selfish, of course, but also wise. With Anthony, he had the perfect partner who had done it all and was ready for anything. Not so with Sven, who, in the end, might not like what he thought was so exciting and engaging once it became a reality, confronted with Miles needs and cravings.

Miles' ardent desires had come back with a vengeance but he had succeeded in pushing them away, for a time. He felt like a pendulum swinging back and forth between a state where he could shed all caution, to one where paranoia reigned. For now, he had decided, it had to be safety first. Even his relations with Anthony when he considered it could appear somewhat problematic if Miles took his own suspicions into account. The sum of Fisher, Greg, drugs and other illicit substances, Thorvald's weekends, the club, sex… throwing Anthony into the mix did not sit well with him. He would have to find answers to his questions. At the same time, for the moment, all he thought of was how he could enjoy the boy as much as possible.

He saw Sven leave the cafeteria with his head down, poor boy. Miles felt sorry for him, but it was for the best, for the both of them. With some luck, that could change in the next few days. Nothing was certain anymore, and nothing would make Miles happier.

There were so many desirable boys surrounding him constantly. He would gladly indulge in his forbidden desires with more than a few of them, but that possibility would have to wait until later. He did not like to think of the boys that way, as objects whose only purpose was the satisfaction of his needs. Still, he was a man with years of frustration and guilt and who had known only paid relationships.

Who would not dream of having free and unlimited access to these upper class boys: each one prettier than the other, with fit and soft bodies and well-fashioned brains? It was an intoxicating concept, one that was hard for Miles to resist. If he found himself among the few adults surviving, who would stop him from having sex with any boy he fancied, even if the child resisted? A man in his position would have strong arguments to bend them to his will. Was this the future he envisioned for himself? He honestly hoped not.

He had behaved that way in the past and it had never been truly satisfying. It always left him feeling sad and full of remorse, leaving the boys hurt and often crying. He still did not understand exactly how it had happened; boys were the most sacred creatures to him. He felt for them and wanted the best for them. Nevertheless, he had done it; he had hurt boys for nothing more than a few minutes of pleasure, sometimes even less when he had been drunk. He had forced them, brought them pain and shame, and then thrown some money in their face as if it could erase their suffering and his guilt. It had never worked. Was it this monster of a man that would take over when all rules were gone, or the other one; the man he wanted to be?

Yes, it was much safer with Anthony. Nothing like that would happen with him. It was too early for Sven, he had to learn how to control himself first, and Miles did not want to shatter the boy's trust and love. He also had to be sure that the boy was not mistaken in his desires, and that Sven himself would be able to back out of their relationship if he decided to. Miles sure wasn't ready for that yet, and once they started, he did not think that he would let go of the boy until he had gained full satisfaction. He recalled young Logan's visit the other day and was now ashamed of the way he had behaved, and appalled at the great risks he had taken.

Anthony was a real gift for him. He could appease his lust, which would serve to make him less impatient and cool his cravings with the younger boy. He hoped that unbridled sex with Anthony would help him become the Miles Dunn he aspired to be.

***

The first trial came quite sooner than he had expected. While those thoughts were raging in his head, he had put himself into autopilot and made his evening rounds like a mindless automaton. Now that everything was in place and that everybody knew what had to be done, it went by quickly. He was back at Bear house long before lights out, as expected, the boys did not miss the opportunity for a goodnight visit.

There were three of them that night, Matthew, Logan, and Johnny. The first two were only wearing boxer shorts since it had been seasonably hot and the air conditioning did not work very well at Bear House. They were not their usual selves that evening, their moods being strangely somber, their behavior muted.

"Hey fellas, what's going on?" asked Miles.

He perched himself on the edge of a bunk and Matthew came over and sat on his knees like a much younger boy. Automatically, Miles started to caress the boy's naked back. The other two sidled up next to him, trying for some contact as if they were jealous of the privileged position of their friend. Miles was very conscious now of the need that most of the younger boys had of touching or leaning on any willing adult that cared for them. It was a natural thing without any sexual meaning: a sign of recognition, trust, and for some, perhaps of affection. It was a quest for security also; Miles' strong frame and athletic body were perfect for it.

They were all silent at first, even young, chatty Logan. Miles was about to comment on this when Matthew blurted out, "is it true we're all gonna die?"

"Not at all! It'll never happen, believe me. Who put that idea in your heads? "

"Everybody."

"The big boys," Logan piped up, "they are talking about it all the time."

"They say that all the adults will turn into zombies and come eat us," said Johnny, finding his voice.

"Not just the adults, some boys too, like Ke. They'll kill us and eat us. They showed us these scary videos…"

"Calm down kids, it's not true. Sick people don't turn into zombies and want to eat you. Those are stories they made up to scare you."

"But the videos are real," insisted Matthew, "they're like, security footage and stuff."

"Yes, I saw some of those videos myself and they're scary stuff. You guys shouldn't watch them, but I never saw one showing people eating anyone else. They are sick people with damaged brains and they become violent and aggressive like Mister Nakata the other day, but it doesn't mean we are all gonna die. I won't lie to you, we will meet some difficult, dangerous times, but we'll all stick together and protect you guys from harm. Some of the people here will probably get sick, it has already happened. But we will do everything we can to make sure they can't hurt anyone."

Miles had to try to comfort them by convincing the boys that he was there to watch over them, but he knew his words were drowned in the rumors and fears that were available on any device at the boys' disposal. There was the influence of their older peers, some of them enjoying to see the younger ones scared, and then there was their own imagination inspired and fed by a world of fantasy and monsters that represented much of the movies, games and books available to kids nowadays.

"You cannot kill zombies," said Johnny

"You can, you just have to destroy the brain," said Logan.

"They're slow."

"Depends, I saw some fast ones in movies."

"Zombies are not real, boys. They were created to frighten you. Nothing about those stories is real. The sick people are not zombies, they are just sick people, and they can die. In fact, it's the disease that kills them."

All three boys snuggled against Miles, whose hands were coursing all over them. The goal was to reassure them of course, but it soon became a source of pleasure and excitement for the man. The pendulum had run its course away from the safety zone to the dangerous, dissolute one. Miles had to get back to firmer ground.

"I'll talk it over with Mister Daniels tomorrow. We need to address these rumors and set things right. You were right to come and tell me about your fears; how could you believe anyone would want to eat you?"

Miles' hand had settled on Johnnie's butt. Taking advantage, he openly cupped it and kneaded the firm and tender flesh.

"Well, come to think of it, this bit under my hand would probably make a succulent piece of meat. It would need some cooking, of course," he joked and then seized Matthew's nude thigh with his other hand, "and this looks very appetizing too. Now, let's see which part of Logan would be to my taste."

The boys loved it. For them it was a game, each one presenting, in turn, some limb or chunk of flesh for the man's examination, pretending that it was of much greater quality than his friend's own offerings. Miles was in heaven, getting unrestrained access to the boys' anatomies, able to caress, knead, grope, pinch, gently bite, and even lick the three participating boys without any of it appearing unwarranted in any way.

He was now fully erect and soon noticed that he wasn't the only one. Little Johnny was in a similar state, his shorts tented and in his state of glee, totally oblivious of it. Matthew was the most reserved of the three, but Miles found him to be the most charming. Almost ready to explode, Miles kept silently repeating to himself that it had to stop or it would end badly. It was the lights out bell that saved him.

"Go to your beds and save your lives, children!" he exclaimed as each of the boys gave him a good night peck on the cheek, and reluctantly went to the door. Johnny, glancing down at his tented shorts, candidly rearranged his package with a small smile and presented his charming butt for a last time.

"I'm tellin' ya, you won't find a better piece of meat anywhere."

"I believe you. Good night boys."

As soon as the door was closed, Miles pulled down his slacks and underwear to relieve an urgent need. Those boys had tasted great. He was sure he would love to eat each one of them… metaphorically, of course. Another sure thing was that Anthony had not been enough to quiet his desires. Once he'd opened Pandora's box, there was no way of closing it again. The battle was still raging within him, but who would win? The man who loved boys, who respected and protected them, or the man who could use, exploit, and force them?

**8**

After an agitated night where the dreams mirrored his complex state of mind, Miles, as he did every morning now, opened his laptop to check his emails.

There hadn't been any from Doctor Perry since that fateful day, but some of his friends from the military and intelligence fields, notably one high-ranking officer, wrote to him regularly to keep him informed. The news was bad as usual: the flu and a growing number of desertions were affecting the efficacy of the National Guard and the army. Missions were being curtailed and it had been decided that the main effort was to be concentrated on major cities. The rest of the country would receive minimal help. All troops were being redeployed to the major population centers across the country. Miles now understood that the medical unit that had been promised to them would never come.

He had had no direct news from Senator Forest for two days now. Daniels had been able to reach a member of the Senator's staff that told him that pessimism currently reigned throughout the halls of power. The senate and government had had their first victims of the flu.

The day started before breakfast with two new feverish teachers and a fifteen-year-old Puma boy. It was becoming routine for Miles to escort them to the gymnasium that looked more and more like a hospital. Abrams had isolated the boys from the adults using light screens, and more were ready to hide from the sight of the others the patients that would be getting closer to the last phases of the disease. The gymnasium was still far from being filled, but now almost a quarter of the space was being occupied.

Miles did not miss an occasion to visit Ke. He had been the first and was the only one to operate what looked like a complete recovery. After four days, he showed no more fever or symptoms of any illnesses. Miles, like many others, wanted to see this as a good omen. Many members of the staff allowed themselves to believe it meant that the flu was not always lethal for those that developed it. Even better, they hoped it meant that the flu was losing its virulence. That was the option everyone wanted to adopt, although it was unfortunately more probable that the boy had contracted another virus such as a simple cold, despite the perfect weather conditions. That was certainly more likely considering the data found in Perry's files. Still, the hope was there.

Miles had insisted that Shirley Cahill call the contacts given by the Senator and try to get some answers from those with knowledge, but after a few unsuccessful tries, it appeared she had had enough. Miles was quickly learning that he could not ask too much of the nurse. He was even beginning to wonder how she had gotten her job in the first place, and how she had managed to keep it.

Ke was adamant that he wanted to leave the gymnasium, and he wanted to leave it now. He complained that he wasn't sick anymore and had to rejoin his friends. Miles had great difficulty telling him that it was not yet possible and that he had to stay there for a little while longer, on observation. Cahill and Daniels had decided it earlier that morning. He did not tell the boy that he agreed with their decision, even though it was the reasonable thing to do.

"But when will I be able to get out?" asked Ke, defeated.

"Soon," answered Miles unwisely.

The rest of the day was spent with the testing and training of some of the prefects with firearms. More meetings and exchanges with Daniels, Fisher and other staff members, and Miles couldn't forget his second five o'clock sexual encounter with Anthony, which was every bit as intense and satisfying as the first.

***

The grass was dry underneath him. Walt was lying with his back against an oak tree and an open book in his lap, but instead of reading it, he was actually watching Matthew and Bob, who were a few feet away. Since the quarantine had been lifted they had been inseparable, and it seemed they had a lot to catch up on.

Walt now realized, and more or less accepted, his attraction for Sven and its clear sexual nature. He looked at boys in a different way now. He had felt embarrassed for the first time during the showers, surprising himself by the glances he threw at some of the prettier boys around him and getting aroused in their company. How could that be? Had he been blind all that time? Why was it happening now and not before? He was still trying to assess his situation and explore these new feelings.

He was quite sure he liked girls; he still wanted to have sex with his current girlfriend Cathy, who sent him daily messages telling him how much she missed him. He felt the same and hated being locked here at St. Xavier for an undisclosed amount of time. Since he had discovered the joys of sex last summer, it had occupied a large part of his thoughts. Was that the reason for those changes? He had discovered needs that did not exist before. Was he trying to find other outlets to satisfy them?

What had really triggered it all was the jealousy he had tasted for the first time when he had suspected something was going on between Sven and Dunn. That had hurt. He wasn't quite sure of it yet, but it was clear the boy was infatuated with the man and Walt felt that he was no match in that contest.

After that, during their forced time together, he had tried to get closer to Sven and bring a more physical side to their relationship. All he got in response were smiles and signs of affection that was more suited for a big brother, which was the role he had fulfilled so far. It just wasn't enough anymore.

Would he dare tell the boy about his true feelings? That was the sensible thing to do, but what if he was too late as he suspected? Or what if the boy wasn't interested, or worse yet, horrified? A rebuff would be a terrible blow for Walt. He wanted the sex but he liked the kid too, and he didn't want to trouble him. There was a mutual deep affection between them. He didn't want to risk ruining it.

In front of him, Matthew and Bob were talking animatedly. What was the subject of their conversation, soccer? A video game? Music? The flu? What had he talked about at their age? It wasn't that long ago, yet it seemed so far away. They were younger than Sven by a year or two at the most. They were both beautiful boys in body and mind; he knew that. What would be their reaction to such a declaration? Did they think about having sex with girls? With boys? It was said that at that age nothing was really set, they could be interested in both.

In fact, was it only friendship between them? Could it be more than that? Was he as attracted to them as he was with Sven? Definitely attracted, yes, but it wasn't the same. They were his type; there was no doubt about it. He had observed the fact in the showers. He liked them young, just before they became teens; hairy guys and big cocks were not for him. He wanted smooth skin, mostly hairless bodies, not completely feminine, but clearly far from the virile jock type.

Should he pick a boy and try it with him first? A boy he didn't really know, so there were no feelings attached? At least it would be a simple relief for his sex drive and could give some answers. The showers that evening were the perfect place to make his choice; he could be on the lookout for a prospective match. There was no harm in thinking about it, anyway.

He picked up his phone and checked his messages. There was one from his mother, and another from Cathy. Nothing new, just words of caution and love, as usual. He would answer them later that evening. He then had a look at the news. The major headlines were focused on a nuclear accident that had happened in China: a possible meltdown. There were also updates about what was left of North and South Korea being on the brink of war after the mysterious disappearance of Kim Jong-un, the dictator who liked to threaten everyone with his nuclear missiles. Both sounded quite bad, fortunately, they were also very far away menaces. Walt was more interested in the stories that were closer to home. It appeared that some panic was taking hold of the National Guard and Police with descriptions of random and indiscriminate shootings in many cities. The death toll was still rising with notable and real repercussions in the country, and there was no end in sight to the crisis and no positive news concerning the Shanxi flu or its side effects.

Walt suddenly realized how ridiculous his moods and questions concerning his sexuality could appear in regard with all that. Still those thoughts did not leave him in peace.

*****

Bob had told Matthew that he wanted to show him something on his laptop, and had brought him to Puma house just before dinner. Usually boys from different houses did not mix that much and did not visit each other's houses. They mostly met on neutral ground, but due to the particular situation and as discipline had grown lax, things were changing.

"What do you want to show me?"

"Something you asked for."

"What was that?"

They had arrived in Bob's dormitory, which was empty. The boy pulled his laptop from the drawer in his workspace near his bed, then went back to the door and closed it after checking the corridor.

"We should have a few minutes to ourselves, I'm sure you'll like it."

"What is it?"

"You remember the barn?"

"The barn?"

"Yeah, the barn. You know, Mike and Lukas…"

"Ah, that. What about it?"

Matthew had nearly forgotten the episode with all that had happened since. It was not the case with Bob, who had developed a sudden and strong interest in everything concerning sex, and had even put some of it into practice. Masturbation had occupied a large part of his activities the last few days, as well as searching for available porn sites on the internet. He had had a lot of free time without his friend and wanted to share some of his findings on the matter. He also felt somewhat guilty about his obsession with the subject matter and hoped to unload some of it by entrusting his friend with his newfound knowledge. He was disappointed by Matthew's lack of enthusiasm but was confident it would come as soon as he shared some of it with him.

"Sit on the bed beside me. You wanted to know what it was all about, didn't you?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"You told me you had thought of asking Mister Dunn."

"Really?"

"You must be joking Matthew, but whatever, let me show you."

Bob opened his laptop and two minutes later, he was on the internet.

"How did you manage that? It's impossible to have direct access."

"There are ways. I found one while you were in quarantine."

"You can do anything you want?"

"As long as I know what to look for and where to find it, more or less."

Bob was already erect just thinking about what was coming as he surfed from one screen to the next before reaching his first goal and rubbing himself discreetly on the edge of his laptop. He had known it would feel even better with Matthew by his side.

"Look at that," he exclaimed and pointed at the screen.

Matthew had immediately identified the nature of what his friend wanted to show him, even if he had never been able to visit such a site himself. At first, he did not really understand what he was looking at. There was a pretty woman on a bed caressing herself before slipping one hand into her lap. The camera zoomed in, showing her putting two fingers inside her vagina while she moaned and said dirty words.

"What is she doing?"

"She's masturbating."

"I thought only boys could do that."

"I don't think so. Just have a good look, that's just the beginning. I got more stuff, wanna see?"

After a few clicks, another movie started up, this one showing a man with a woman. They were having sex. There was nothing strange about it, Matthew had already seen "lovemaking" scenes in many regular movies already, but this one was very different. It was the first time Matthew was seeing it for real, in crude detail, and he found it rather disgusting; notably the close ups. Still, he didn't want to hurt his friend's feelings so he tried to show some interest and appreciation.

"I never saw that before. Is it always like that?"

"It's only the free stuff; I don't have access to the rest. There must be more though, whaddya think?"

"Well, that's new…interesting…"

"That's all it does for you? I can't hold it any longer."

Bob pulled down the front of his shorts, freeing his raging erection. Matthew, surprised, backed away from his friend.

"Don't be afraid, it's natural. Don't you feel the same way?"

"No, not really."

"You don't know what you're missing. Wait; let me show you something else."

Matthew resumed his place. His answer had not been totally true, he did feel something. He felt some excitement, but it mixed with disgust. He didn't really like what he was seeing.

"What about that? It's exactly what we saw the other day in the barn."

Bob's right hand left his rigid cocklet to dance across the keyboard. The screen shifted and they were now browsing the gay section, which had plenty of smaller screens to choose from. Bob, as before, knew which one to pick; he had prepared this show over the last two days.

"I don't like it that much myself," Bob said as an excuse, "but this is what they were doing in the barn, if you want to know."

Two older teens were on the screen kissing and making out, like in the movies. They were both naked and as the boys watched, the teens started doing much more than kissing. A close up soon showed the blond one's cock entering his dark-haired partner's bum, moving slowly in and out as the teen moaned.

"That's what Mike and Lukas were doing in the barn." Exclaimed Bob.

"You can do that? Doesn't it hurt?"

"I guess not," said Bob.

"And they liked it?"

"It looked like they did to me."

Bob was trying to see the front of his friend's shorts without making it obvious. He thought it impossible that there was no reaction at all. Is that a slight bulge? he wondered with a smile. It was reassuring for him to see that he was not alone. It made him feel like less of a freak.

"Will you show me yours? I want to see it," he added, pointing to his own erection.

"Um…I dunno…"

"Come on, there's only the two of us here. I showed you mine, there's no harm in it. I'm just curious is all, come on, don't be a chicken."

"Okay, but just for a second."

"Okay."

Matthew shyly pulled down the front of his shorts and let his friend see his three-inch erection.

"We're about the same size," said Bob, "I knew you were hard too. How's it feel?"

"Weird, good, it tingles a bit like… when I gotta pee."

"Yeah, that's how I feel too. Do you want me to show you how to make it feel really good?"

"Yeah… but not now… I think I've seen enough for today."

"Okay, I understand. Let's go to the barn before dinner and see the horses."

"Only the horses?"

"Who knows?" said Bob, and they both started laughing.

***

Sean Parks didn't want to leave St Xavier. He had tried to resist his mother's decision, backing every argument Headmaster Daniels had given, but to no avail. Only two or three other students were leaving, and all his friends were staying. It looked bad, and he was afraid he would appear to be a momma's boy or a wimp. He didn't know which one he disliked the most. He had a reputation to defend; he was the one that had pulled a prank on Mr. Dunn on the man's first day.

His family lived thirty miles from the school, and his mother promised him she would bring him back as soon as possible.

It would never happen.

When he arrived home, his sister Selma wasn't there. She had enrolled in the National Guard and had left a few days before. It appeared that his parents wanted to keep at least one of their children close to them during this crisis. Their house was isolated, with nothing around for miles. He had nothing to do, except play his video games, read comics, watch movies, and listen to his music. His parents were glued to the TV, trying to make some sense of the events unfolding before their very eyes. His sister returned home three days later. He was hopeful it meant he would have someone to talk to since they had always been close, but it was not to be.

She was sick.

It was soon clear she had deserted her post. She didn't want to be sent to the treatment centers that had been set up by the government. As soon as she came home, she went to her room and stayed there. His parents were desperate and quite aware of how it would end, not knowing how to address the situation. Should they ask for help at the risk of losing her, or wait and hope for a miracle? Their indecision won; they did nothing, days passed, and his sister's health got worse.

It ended on the third night. Sean had stayed awake late, playing the new Tomb Raider game. He had always been a sound sleeper, and not much could awaken him once he was asleep. On this night in particular, though, he did waken. There had been a strong noise, perhaps even several. They had startled the sleep out of him and he shot up in his bed. Darkness surrounded him, making him feel disoriented. When he looked at the clock on his nightstand, it read 3:45 am.

He got out of bed and opened his door. Since it had been so hot lately, he chose to sleep in the nude. He was so worried that he did not take the time to put on his shorts. He knew his father was keeping watch over his sister; they had all seen the videos about the enraged and the ferals. As he tiptoed down the empty hallway, he noticed that his sister's bedroom door was open. He went there and gingerly looked inside. The chair where his father spent most of his time watching over Selma had toppled and nobody was in the room. He heard more sounds coming from downstairs, from the master bedroom where his mother slept.

He went down the steps as if in a dream… or perhaps a nightmare. He was moving forward though he didn't want to. He wasn't entirely sure that he wanted to know what had happened. He wanted to escape, to flee into the woods nearby, but it was impossible. He had to help if he could. He did not put on the lights, hoping to be less visible in the night with his dark skin.

He went directly to the origin of the sounds he had heard. As he entered the room, in the gloom, he could make out three bodies by the bed. His father, it seemed, had tried to protect his wife with his body and had fallen above her. There were dark stains on the white sheets… blood! Lots of blood!

Selma, was there, standing beside the bed as naked as he was. She was holding a gun in one hand and an army knife in the other, which she was using to carve her father's dead body. Sean was frozen in place, incapable of the slightest move, his mouth open, and tears springing to his eyes.

Slowly, his sister turned around to face him. She raised her gun and pulled the trigger a few times. She was ambidextrous and used indifferently her right or left hand. The gun was empty; she had already fired all the bullets at the corpses lying on the bed, which was the noise that had woken her brother. She seemed surprised that nothing happened and stared at the gun in wonder. This lasted one good minute before she let it fall to the ground and moved toward Sean, her sticky knife in hand.

The boy did not move until she was two feet away and began slashing at him with great force. He dodged the knife at the last moment, and his sister, unbalanced, continued forward and missed him by an inch. As he turned and ran for the door, he felt the cold metal pierce his skin just below his right shoulder blade, but he did not stop.

What followed was a dark pantomime where brother and sister chased each other around the rooms of the house, dodging around the furniture. Sean threw everything he could find at his sister in an attempt to stop her: vases, magazines, chairs, chandeliers, and lamps. Finally, he ran out of things to throw and picked up one of the couch cushions to ward off the knife thrusts. He could feel warm blood trickling down his back.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his father's golf bag in the foyer, and he ran for them, taking a second hit on his thigh. He was successful and now that he was armed, he decided to go on the attack. Using the club, he rained blows on Selma who backed away for a moment. In a stroke of luck, he smacked the hand that was holding the knife, and the blade fell to the floor tiles with a clang. He thought he had won, but the bigger, stronger girl did not back away. On the contrary, he almost had to double his attacks to keep her at bay.

He had to run, that was the only way he would survive. He had already given her hits that should have stopped her, but she kept coming. The club was bent and in danger of snapping in half. He recalled how he had -for fun- tripped quite a few boys on the lacrosse field. The golf club wasn't that different from his stick. If he could sweep her feet out from under her, that would give him enough time to reach the door and flee.

While keeping her at bay as best as he could, he maneuvered around his sister and placed himself closer to the exit. As he had done many times before, in a totally different setting and with much less at stake, he caught her ankle with the golf club and pulled back as hard as he could. She slipped backward, her head hitting the tiles with a loud smack that hurt his ears and heart. Not losing a second, he was at the door and running.

He ran for ten minutes without end. His naked feet hurt by pebbles and brambles he barely saw in the night. Out of breath, he collapsed to his knees and started to cry. He was now all alone, naked, and hurt. He didn't know where to go or what to do. He didn't even know where he was exactly. The only good thing was that he wasn't cold; the night was hot with a gentle breeze. He laid down on the ground, curled up, and closed his eyes as he tried to chase those nightmarish images that continually invaded his mind.

***

He woke up a few minutes later with the taste of copper in his mouth. He was lying on his back; his sister's army knife had opened him from the thorax to the pelvis in one go. Surprisingly, there was no pain. His guts were spilling out onto the grass and Selma was there above him, watching him die. Then, as if it wasn't enough, she bent down, clamped her jaws on his neck, and pulled at the tender flesh. She raised her head, a big chunk of skin and meat still in her mouth that she started to masticate. She then looked down at her little brother as a fountain of blood spilled from the side of his neck.

***

After the rollercoaster day he had been through, Miles, his mind invaded by contradictory thoughts of death and carnal delights was just drifting off to sleep when he was awoken by a soft knocking at his door. Throwing back the covers, he swung his legs off the bed and stood up. He yawned and then walked towards the door without bothering to dress.

"Who is it?" he asked when he had reached the door.

"It's me," came a soft reply, "Logan."

Miles opened the door to find the young boy standing there, clad only in a light blue pair of boxer shorts, and clutching a slightly worn teddy bear. Although his eyes were wide open, they had a sleepy look to them, glassy, as though he had been jolted out of a deep sleep.

"Hey bud, what's up?"

"Um…" the boy said as he shifted nervously from one foot to the other, "I had a bad dream."

"Aww, I'm sorry. Do you want to talk about it?"

"N-no. Can I sleep with you tonight?"

Miles wasn't sure that he liked the idea. Boys were not allowed to spend the night in an adult's room and even less in their bed. Logan was an extremely cute boy, but he was rather young and Miles found him to be more of a cuddly type of boy than sexy; like a little puppy dog. He feared losing control of himself with a sleeping child lying beside him, and he didn't want to do that…not with one as adorable as Logan, anyway. He had already chastised himself for the liberties taken a few days ago.

"Uh…why don't I walk you back to your room, Logan? I'll even tuck you in."

"Can't," came the reply, "Bruce is snoring real loud and I can't get back to sleep. I already tried."

"Oh."

"Please Mister Dunn," Logan begged as he took a step further into the room, "can't I just sleep with you? I promise I won't steal the covers or anything, and I'll keep my cold feet off of you."

Miles couldn't help chuckling at the statement. The boy must have spent many nights crawling into his parent's bed and had probably been on the receiving end of that complaint more than once.

Was it safe? One could think that he was spent. There had been his intense bout of sex with Anthony. Later the three boys evening visit, Matthew, Johnny and Logan, had ended again with teasing games; followed as soon as they left by a formidable wank and climax. How could he resist a simple cuddle with such a cute boy? Miles knew that it was a losing battle and that he would give in sooner rather than later. With a sigh, he surrendered to the idea and stepped aside so that Logan could enter.

"Alright, come on."

A smile flashed across the boy's face as he walked into the room.

"Thanks, Mister Dunn."

Miles closed the door and led the boy through the darkened room to the bed, the very small bed. He crawled beneath the covers first and slid over until his back was against the wall, and then held the covers up so that Logan could wriggle in beside him. Miles rolled onto his back, and beside him, Logan did the same. They stared up at the ceiling for a few seconds while he pondered the possibilities of such a darling young boy beside him. I'm not going to do anything with him, he told himself, I won't, I won't, I won't. He just wanted to sleep, listening to the boy's breathing and happy in the knowledge that Logan was lying beside him, sharing his bed.

If only the boy wasn't so damned cute! Miles managed to hold out a few seconds more, and then he lifted his arm and slid it beneath the boy's head. What could it hurt, Miles thought, I'm not doing anything sexual, I'm just putting my arm around him, perfectly normal.

To his surprise, Logan turned to face him and then placed a hand upon his bare chest. Miles' heart skipped a beat. Surely, he isn't initiating anything is he? He's too young to be interested in sex. It can't be like that past night again! He waited for some sign as he had with Sven, for the hand to drop down to his crotch. Instead, it remained where it was, soft and warm.

"G'night Mister Dunn," Logan said sleepily.

The boy's head was lying atop his bicep and he could feel the boy's warm breath spreading across it towards his armpit.

"Night, Logan."

"Love you."

Again, his heart skipped a beat. If his ears had heard correctly, the boy had just professed his love for him. It had to be innocent, just an impressionable young child telling his favorite adult that he cared about him. Right?

"Love you too," he finally said.

Logan nestled in beside him and was soon fast asleep, his soft boyish snores filling Miles' ears and heart with warmth. He wanted to embrace the child, hold the boy's body close to his. And why not? Logan was asleep, what harm would a mere hug do? The boy would probably do it himself if he were awake, why shouldn't Miles hug the slumbering child?

Miles rolled over onto his side, careful to keep the boy's head steady on his bicep. The movement caused Logan's hand to slide from his chest to his side and back, like a limp hug. Miles wrapped his free arm around Logan, placing it in the small of the child's back as he pressed his body up against the boy's. He slowly lowered his head until it was even with Logan's, and then moved forward until their noses were touching. He could feel the boy's breath on his lips. As his cock stiffened, Miles closed his eyes and gently placed a kiss upon Logan's lips. He held it there for several seconds before breaking off and opening his eyes again.

Logan was still asleep. His lips had been closed, but after the kiss, they were now parted the tiniest bit. Miles leaned forward and kissed him again; keeping his eyes open this time to make sure that Logan remained asleep. Very slowly, he slid his tongue out until they touched Logan's lips, and then slid it inside the boy's mouth. He rubbed his tongue first against Logan's upper teeth, and then against the boy's tongue. The child tasted sweet, better and more pure than any boy Miles had yet known.

What the fuck am I doing? he thought and quickly broke off the kiss. He was going too far with the boy and he didn't want to. Logan was just a cute little boy, not a sexual partner. He had to stop before he got carried away, partly because he didn't want to do anything with Logan, and partly because he was afraid that he wouldn't be able to stop.

He rolled onto his back and waited for his erection to die down. Logan's hand was back on his chest, and Miles' arm was still beneath the boy's head, but that was all. He would not do anything more with the boy, not while he was still in control.

Still asleep, Logan rolled over until he too was lying on his back. Miles took the opportunity to remove his arm from beneath the boy's head, as it had started to fall asleep. He lay in the darkness, staring up at the ceiling and listening to Logan's breathing while he waited for the blood to return to his arm and the pins and needles feeling to subside. That was close, he thought.

Miles laid awake and thought back over all the events that had taken place over the past few days. The files foretelling the end of the world, Daniels and Fisher, Nakata and the blood, the surprising Miss Simons, the quarantine, the beautiful and lovable Sven, Anthony's audaciousness and sexual prowess. Overall, it had been a rather busy week.

He was just starting to doze off for the second time that night when he heard Logan make a soft grunt beside him. Miles glanced down at the boy and noticed a small bump in the covers above the boy's crotch. He checked to be sure that Logan was still asleep, and then pulled back the covers. Sure enough, a small erection was tenting up the front of Logan's boxers.

Miles stared at the little bulge for a minute. Now, this presented him with an interesting situation. He didn't want to do anything sexual with Logan, but the boy was still so cute. He had seen Logan nude in the showers a few times and knew what his penis looked like, but he had never seen it erect. Surely it wouldn't be too bad to take a quick peek. After all, most of the boys he had been with had been twelve or older. Now that he thought about it, he didn't think he had ever seen a ten-year-old's erection before. The more he thought about it, the more he convinced himself that it wouldn't hurt; just a quick little peak and then he could roll over and go to sleep. No big deal.

Licking his lips, he could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he placed a hand upon that tiny mound. It may be small, but it was stiff as an iron rod. With hands that shook, Miles carefully slipped the tips of his fingers into the waistband of Logan's shorts and lifted them up. He lowered his head until it was just an inch away from the opening and was greeted with the odor of young boy cock.

God, he smells so good! Unfortunately, it was too dark to see anything. He tried lifting the front of the shorts up higher, but to no avail. After thinking about it for a second, Miles realized that he really wanted to see that erection. He needed to.

Very slowly, Miles sat up in bed and then situated himself into a kneeling position between Logan's feet. He leaned forward over the prostrate body beneath him and placed his hands on Logan's hips. As he started to slide the boxer shorts down, Miles constantly checked Logan's face to make sure that the boy was still asleep. Though it was dark, the moonlight pouring in through the window gave him enough light to see the boy's eyes rolling around beneath the soft eyelids in REM. Yes, the boy was in a deep sleep and now was his chance to take a look.

He pulled the boxers down a little but they caught on Logan's erection. Miles slipped his hands beneath the boy's body and pulled the boxers down over the boy's bum cheeks. All that was left now was the glorious prize in the front. Miles guided the boxers up and over the erection and pulled them down to the boy's knees.

It was a sight to behold! Logan was about three inches long and had a girth that matched perfectly with the length. He was circumcised and the head looked nothing short of beautiful, bulbous, and proud. The boy's scrotum was flawless: creamy and smooth, and without a single hair on it. He could see the boy's balls, which were tucked neatly away inside that wonderful ballsack.

Miles was unable to help himself. After glancing up to make sure that Logan was still asleep, he lowered his face to the boy's crotch and buried his nose beneath the scrotum. He inhaled deeply and then raised his mouth to the achingly rigid cocklet. Wetting his lips, he puckered them and slid the little stiffy into his mouth.

It felt so stiff in his mouth, like a baby carrot. He carefully rolled his tongue around the circumcised rim, and then used the tip to tickle the pee slit. He sucked harder and slid his tongue down the underside of the shaft to the base, where it joined the boy's scrotum. Miles reached into his own boxer shorts as he sucked and began to rub himself, imagining how hot it would feel to have the ten-year-old's lips wrapped around his cock.

He spent a little more time sucking on the boy's erection, and then began to suck on Logan's scrotum. He rolled each testicle around in his mouth carefully, using his mouth to gauge the size of them. As he did this, he slid his hand between the boy's legs and softly rubbed the boy's anus with a finger. He kept glancing up at Logan's face, and so far, the boy was still fast asleep. Miles wondered what he must be dreaming of with such a stiff little erection, hopefully something sexy and nice.

After giving the tip of Logan's penis a quick kiss, Miles sat up a bit. Being as careful as before, he slid the boy's boxer shorts down to his ankles and then pulled the boy's ankles up a bit, bending the knees outward. Logan resembled a frog in that position, a boy frog with an adorable little hard-on. It was all Miles could do to lie on top of the boy and begin smothering his face with kisses.

He wet his index finger making it slick with saliva, brought it to the cleft of Logan's bum and gently moved it forward and started to tease the puckered little anus, prodding around it in circles. He glanced up to check on Logan, but the boy had turned his head and he had no clear visual, he instead listened carefully to the sound of the boy's breathing. As long as there was no change in its pace, he was free to continue.

He took a cheek in his left hand and very slowly pulled the bum cheeks apart so that he could have better access to the hole. He started to test the resistance and after slicking his finger some more, pushed gently to slip it inside to the first knuckle without effort, and then he heard the sound of Logan stirring above him. Miles immediately froze in place; his finger stuck in the boy's anus. After a few seconds, he removed it and lifted his head to check. Thankfully, Logan was still asleep, although he had turned his head facing him again.

Stop it, now.

The words flashed through his brain like a bolt of lightning. More than anything, he wanted to continue, but it was not safe to do so. If Logan woke up, it would be impossible to explain what he was doing, and it might frighten the boy. He knew that what he was doing was wrong. Miles wasn't necessarily attracted to Logan, but he did have a tender fondness for him. He didn't want to do anything that might upset or confuse the boy, and so with a heavy heart (and an erection that begged to be paid attention to), Miles sat up.

He pulled Logan's legs back down and was about to slide the boxers back into place, but stopped. He was near orgasm already from sucking and playing with the boy's hole; he would achieve his plateau within a few jerks. Instead of pulling the shorts up, Miles lay back down beside Logan. He reached for his own cock, but paused. A moment's consideration and he gently took hold of Logan's hand and lifted it up.

He lowered the boy's hand to his crotch, wrapped the tiny fingers around his erection, and placed his own hand around Logan's. He started to rub, and seconds later, cum was shooting out from the tip of his cock and onto his chest. Leaving the boy's fingers wrapped around his cock, Miles tilted his head back and caught his breath.

He glanced down at Logan and found that the boy's erection was still as hard as ever. He reached down and gave it a few playful rubs, and then sat up so that he could pull the boy's shorts back into place, hoping that when Logan woke up the following morning he wouldn't notice anything out of the ordinary.

Miles stretched across Logan's body to retrieve an old sock that was lying on the floor. He used it to wipe the cum off his chest and stomach, and then to wipe off the small bit that was between Logan's fingers. When he had finished, he pulled his own shorts back up and then turned onto his side, throwing an arm over Logan's chest and cradling the boy to him.

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