Chapter 14

The return to Saint Xavier was not a happy one. A simple expedition had nearly turned into a complete disaster. They had lost Morgan Wells and Miles had risked the lives of Sven and Anthony, mostly for selfish reasons.

At the same time, he had to say that they had learned a lot. The outside world had changed drastically. Over a short period of time, even the small nearby towns, with only a few thousand inhabitants each, had become dangerous places. Doctor Perry's estimation of widespread death had not been exaggerated. The speed at which the flu struck, although predicted, was nonetheless startling. He recalled that ninety percent of the adult population would succumb to the flu; striking more women than men, and then seventy percent of young girls. Boys, particularly prepubescent boys, would be mostly spared. Dunn now saw these predictions firsthand and could see that Saint Xavier, with mostly boys, should survive the flu.

The biggest threat would be the ferals, who would possibly kill off many of the surviving, unprotected children at a rapid rate. About two thirds of the nearby town, with a former population of fifteen thousand, had already been wiped out. Although survivors were mostly hiding at this point, Dunn used Doctor Perry's estimates to calculate the strength of the enemy at two thousand ferals. What remained of the town's population now faced a new and very real danger.

On the trip back, they sat in near silence. Tools, their appointed nurse, checked the condition of the two wounded kids. The girl, Lisa, had a large bruise and contusion on the right side of her face; it would simply go away with time. The boy, her brother, had a nasty gash on his thigh that may be infected and would need antibiotics. Miles had used the senator's influence and Carl's connections to secure a large amount of many different types of medicine, which included the antibiotics the boy would need. Miles knew the panic brought about by the flu would have quickly emptied the drugstores and pharmacies. That boy, Eric, was lucky to have met them.

They arrived back at Saint Xavier around three. They were anxiously expected, notably by Matthew and all of Dunn's warriors. Hours had passed without any news, and worry had grown by the minute.

As soon as they had parked the vehicles in the courtyard in front of the administration building, they were surrounded by a crowd of very eager boys. Everyone wanted to know what had happened, even more so when they learned there had been fighting. More kids arrived and little groups formed around each vehicle and their occupants. Walt, Sven, Anthony, and the others were promptly surrounded and assaulted with a barrage of endless questions.

When Dunn came out of the SUV, his first thought was for Matthew and he quickly scanned the crowd for the boy. Matthew had also been looking for him, having made a hasty survey of all the vehicles and letting go a sigh of relief when he finally saw the man towering above the sea of kids in front of him. He started to run and did not stop until he had thrown himself into the man's arms. Miles lifted him from the ground and kissed him on the cheek, feeling the boy clutching at him as if his life depended on it. Miles, in turn, rained caring kisses all over the boy's face.

"I'm sorry I'm late –you were worried."

"Yes. But now you're here."

"I am."

"You'll stay now?"

"I'll try to keep you close as much as possible, but you know I have my duties."

"I'm a big boy now; I did well at the training. You could take me with you the next time; we would be together."

"We'll see, but I don't regret having you stay here this time. It did not go well; we lost one of the teachers, Mister Wells, and it could have been much worse. We were surprised by a pack of ferals."

"I would have been on the lookout for you if I had been there."

"I'm sure you would have. It's a dangerous place out there now. See, we brought back four kids from town, who've been hurt. Would you do something for me and accompany them to the infirmary? I would like the nurse to have a look at them, and also Anthony, who has a sprained ankle."

"Okay." Miles put him back on the ground.

"You're a great help, Matthew. I have a few things to tend to and then I have to meet with Mister Fisher. I'll see you at Bear House once you're done with the nurse; take them there, but first stop in the dining hall and see that they get something to eat. I'm sure they're hungry.

"Kids, follow Matthew and he'll take good care of you. Anthony, you go along as well."

"I'll go with them, but my ankle doesn't really hurt anymore."

"I want to be sure and… I might have a look at it myself if I find the time… later."

"Yeah, I sure would like you to check it, at the usual place."

"I'll do my best."

"Are we going?" interrupted Matthew who had not quite understood what they had been talking about. Why would Mr. Dunn need to see Anthony's ankle if nurse Cahill had checked it already? At the same time, he was quite proud of being entrusted to lead the new kids, and wanted to carry out his mission without delay.

"Yes, let's go Perry, take the lead."

They made their way through the crowd following Matthew and mostly ignoring any contact or questions from the surrounding students.

Anthony acknowledged Riichi, Alex, and a few others as he passed them.

"Who are those kids?"

"More refugees!"

"How many did you bring back?"

"Did you really fight, shoot at them?"

"Later. I'll tell you everything later," he simply said.

***

Miles was feeling the stress of the last hours slowly fade away, replaced by a feeling of weariness. He still had quite a few tasks ahead of him before he could join Anthony at the infirmary. First, they had to take care of Wells body, then organize the unloading of the truck and finally go see Carl to inform him of their achievements and failures. He was not hungry; he never was in times of stress or after an engagement. He would have to debrief all the participants of the raid, notably the younger ones. They had killed for the first time, and it was something that could affect them deeply, even if it was perfectly justified and in self-defense. It had to be addressed.

He signaled Abrams who was still standing near the truck. Greg was there too, with his buddies and many of the younger kids. He was all smiles, obviously taking great pleasure in recounting the recent events. Sven was close by on the other side of the SUV talking with William and a few other boys, many of them Dunn's warriors. He was much more subdued and often sent glances to Miles as if looking for support. He had faced the ferals and had retraced his steps to help perhaps save Anthony's life, but nothing was that simple after such an experience. They would need to talk for sure; he was quite proud of the kid and would have to tell him.

Miles himself felt pride for the boy and blessed to have been chosen by him, to be loved by such a wonderful child. He would have liked to take him in his arms and show him his love without restraint, perhaps take him to his room… But it was too early, he could not do that yet.

"Dunn, what now?" That was Abrams, with Louise by his side.

"I propose we take care of Wells body, we can't leave him like that in the car."

"Seems right, let's get him to the cemetery. I'll go get a stretcher."

"Louise, can you take care of the unloading of the truck while we do that?"

"Of course, I'll conscript some of the kids; that will occupy them, make them feel useful. Calm them down too."

As soon as Abrams was back, and after taking the curious boys away from the SUV, they put the body on the stretcher with the help of Tools and Cruise, whom Miles had recruited. Abrams had had the good foresight to bring a sheet that they now used to cover Wells to hide his body from the prying eyes of the many boys.

Louise did not lose a minute in organizing the unloading of the truck, recruiting some of the boys around her to lend a hand. No one ever said no to her, not even Greg and his friends. She also ordered Arthur Banks to gather the weapons from each vehicle and take them to the armory, it did not take him long to gather more boys to carry out her demand.

***

Walt was asked to supervise the operation and was soon giving a hand.

He had overheard the strange exchange between Miles Dunn and Anthony, and he was wondering what it meant. He was certain that the man had taken along Sven because of their, more than probable, special affair, but why Anthony? It was also surprising that he had let that boy train with them each evening since he was known to be close to Greg's bunch. Was there something between those two? What he had heard could certainly be interpreted that way, which would explain a lot. It would mean that the man was pursuing several boys at once.

Was he one of those dreaded pedos? Was Sven safe with him? Now that he thought about it, he wondered if he himself was becoming one of those pariahs. What he had been planning to do with Chad, was it so different? Walt wasn't certain of anything anymore. Or perhaps he had been all wrong, perhaps Sven had not yet gone that far or had refused Dunn's advances. Anything was still possible. No, those two had something going on. One simply had to look at them together, and it was plain, he felt it in his guts. He should talk to the boy; get answers. There was no other way to stop the flow of questions now flooding his confused mind.

"Can I help too?" It was Chad, who was all smiles, that interrupted his thoughts. "We all wondered what was going on, we were worried about you." The boy had his two brothers in tow. He had changed his cutoff jeans and shirt for borrowed blue shorts and a tank top. Walt thought he looked good.

"You see, I'm back and without a scratch. Of course you can help, climb in that truck and you can work on the unloading." Walt saw the boy having difficulty getting up into the back of the vehicle. "Let me help you," he said, as he put his hands under the boy's bottom and lifted him up enough to reach the truck bed more easily. He loved the feel of the firm boyish buns under the thin material and could not resist the chance of giving him a playful pat on his cute behind.

Chad turned around, a wide smile on his face, "Whoa, that's private property you know, you should ask first before touching. If you're interested, that is." It was said in a playful tone that implied that the invitation had been granted, and that a repeat performance was even desired.

"Get to work, you scamp. We'll see about that later." Walt had not been wrong, the boy showed all the signs that he could be ready for something more. He was quite different from the Saint Xavier boys, more direct with a language that would have brought him quite a few harsh words from the teachers if they had still been around. His allusions to sex were frequent; he was no innocent. He wasn't shy and in only three days, maybe even less than that, had lost any inhibition he could have shown at first.

He had been glued to Walt from the start, much more so than his two brothers who simply followed along. Walt had taken advantage of it, and why not? Chad was quite stunning, and coming along nicely. How far was he ready to go? Was it only a game? Did the boy simply want to bring attention to himself, Walt wondered. In the end, who should he pursue, Sven or Chad? And why not both, like Dunn was probably doing with Sven and Anthony? Dunn: whom he thought had scored already.

Walt shooed away the two younger brothers and resumed his work, his eyes often following Chad's antics between each crate delivery.

***

They now had a fairly large cemetery set up behind the shop where they buried the flu victims. Three holes had already been dug out in preparation of expected future deaths. They just had to fill one after laying Wells body in it. Once that job was done, Miles made a stop beside Daniels' grave, as a sign of respect and regret.

As they were leaving they met with Shirley and young Cole, the swimmer, followed by two strong boys bearing a stretcher; it was Cole's father they were coming to bury. Miles stopped and tried to alleviate some of the boy's pain.

"I'm very sorry Cole. Come see me if you need anything. I'll be there for you."

"Thank you Mister Dunn, I…" Shirley had draped her arm over his shoulders, holding him against her in a clearly possessive way and cutting Miles short.

"That won't be necessary, Miles, I will be taking good care of this young man. I've taken him under my wing, you see."

"Nice to hear that, Shirley, but what is said is said. You can come to me whenever you want young man, I'll be glad to help." He didn't trust the nurse one iota when it came to the well-being of the boy, or anyone else for that matter. The joyous, full of life kid he had met some weeks ago seemed gone.

They retraced their steps and helped bury Alfred Anderson while Cole watched with tears in his eyes. Shirley still had her arm draped over his shoulders. A mockery of genuine affection, thought Miles, but what could he do? He had so many boys depending on him already.

He went back to check on how the unloading of the truck was going. They were about done and certainly had no need of him. A crowd was still there; word had spread of the fighting and most of the boys were talking excitedly and not helping. Greg and Lewis were still surrounded by eager boys of all ages who wanted to know how it felt to fight and shoot for real, to kill… It was Greg's second time to be the center of attention and he clearly loved it. Miles noted that they had brought back more food than he would have thought, but, of course, not nearly enough to justify Wells' death. Miles knew that he had done his best and that most of the events that lead to it had been unpredictable, but he still felt responsible for it, the way any commanding officer did after losing men a mission.

He needed a shower to relax and wash away the dirt and sweat. Before he could do that, however, he was informed by Tanner Holt that he had to meet with Carl Fisher, who was in his office, waiting for his report. Carl had not deigned it necessary to come to the news, it appeared, the news should come to him; it was in accordance with the increasing arrogance the man was adopting as the new headmaster. He'll just have to wait some more, decided Miles. He saw Sven leaning against the SUV, talking with William and the Piggy actor whose name he didn't recall, and went to him.

"Sven, I'm going for a shower, would you accompany me? I would like to have a word with you… concerning all the day's events." He wanted to somehow justify his demand in front of the boy's bedmates and discovered it was not really necessary. Of course, Sven jumped at the opportunity, and the other two seemed to find it quite natural. In the end, it might have been very profitable to take those two boys with him; it would make his close relations with Anthony and Sven quite open and spontaneous, and avoid any embarrassing questions. He draped his arm around the boy's shoulders as Shirley had done with Cole a few minutes before, but with very different results. He felt the boy leaning against him in a sign of affection and trust, but in such a way as not to overdo it or draw unwanted attention.

Miles decided to take him to Bear House, where, at that hour, they would have the showers all to themselves and a few minutes together with no one to disturb them. He wasn't really in the mood for sex yet and he didn't think that was what the boy needed for the moment, still for caution and out of habit, he chose a stall not seen from the door. All he wanted was to simply enjoy the sight and touch of the wonderful creature by his side without prying eyes around.

"How do you feel, Sven?"

"Fine, a bit tired perhaps."

"You were brave and quite competent today. Your shots didn't miss their target, I saw. Do you want to talk about it?"

"I don't know. No, not yet, I have to think it over first. I was afraid, but I did what I had to do, you know?"

"I know it perfectly well, Sven. As for everything else, you can talk to me about it whenever you want to. This experience certainly brought us all much closer together. We won't have to hide that we know and appreciate each other anymore; it will be much easier now for you to come see me. That's the good thing about it."

"We've got to be careful still. Don't we?"

"Yes, you're right, for a few more days."

As they entered the showers, the man bent to kiss the boy on his sweet ruby lips. It was an innocent kiss, one of affection. Undressing each other, they soon entered the shower stall together, Miles let the water run over him as he slathered the boy's delicate skin with a good amount of soap, repeating his previous exploration of the slight but sturdy body whose taut young muscles slowly loosened up. Then it was the man's turn to be serviced by the boy. Miles felt the boy's skillful hands work his weary muscles and as usual, linger on his old scars that had kept their power of fascination for the child. They both had erections by now, rubbing against the other's like a pair of fleshy fencing foils, but for once, this was more about love than sex, more about feeling comfortable close together.

Slowly, Miles' hands dropped to take hold of the boy's firm bum cheeks as he pulled the boy close against him and planted a gentle, passionate kiss upon the boy's lips. They did not have much time, but they made good use of those few minutes. Miles could not let go of the situation without getting some relief. He knew he could not enter the boy without much preparation, so he went for a lesser good. Gingerly guiding the boy to face away from him, he slipped his cock between the child's voluptuous thighs from behind and told the boy to tighten them as he started the back and forth movement that would bring him his release. Even this way, as soon as his cock came in contact with the boy's hole, he felt him tense and then relax as it glided along without applying pressure. The same reaction was repeated a few times as his manhood passed again and again over the much desired but inaccessible puckered hole.

It was clear that Sven was not keen for anal sex and it would be a challenge to make him appreciate it. Fortunately, Miles had Anthony and a few others to indulge in his favorite penchant. All the while, he did not forget the boy's needs; seizing his hard pricklet and rubbing it the way he knew the boy appreciated it most. They came within a few seconds of each other. He could feel the warmth of Sven's body pressing against him as the boy arched his back with a hushed moan, just before the hairless young cocklet began pulsing and throbbing in his hand,

It did not have the intensity of their previous encounter, but it was still quite satisfactory. The sexual act had not taken the center stage, it was rather the tenderness and intimacy they had shared that left its mark. As his cock slowly started to return to its flaccid state, Miles kept one hand on Sven's penis while he slid his other hand up the boy's stomach to rest on his chest. Sven craned his neck back so that he could plant a tender kiss upon the man's cheek as he laid his own hands over Miles'.

They remained this way for a few minutes more, the man cradling the child affectionately as they kissed, their tongues sliding back and forth inside each other's mouths. Then, they parted and dressed quickly, not taking their eyes away from each other, left, and separated while longing to be reunited. Miles was very much aware that Carl Fisher would be waiting upstairs in the headmaster's office.

***

The meeting between the two men was short and businesslike. Carl was at work on the speech he was preparing for the next assembly, when he would announce the school's new policies and try to promote and favor same sex relationships. If successful, this would free himself and others, like Miles Dunn, he thought ironically, from a lifetime of discrimination and fear, from the permanent necessity to hide their true feelings. It was to be a delicate and important speech requiring all his attention.

Miles simply told the unvarnished story of what had happened that day, avoiding unnecessary details. Carl listened attentively, interjecting with some questions, mostly about the ferals, the town, and the two new refugees. Miles couldn't help but notice that a small smile rose on the corner of his mouth whenever the situation became critical or extreme. Carl would lean forward during these moments, placing his elbows on his desk and clasping his hands at his chin.

"How old is the girl?"

"About ten, I would say."

"You said there were more kids with them, more girls?"

"One or two more, yes, among a group of fifteen."

"Did they have weapons?"

"A few yes, but nothing much."

"Good, there must be more groups like that all over the town. Do you think they have a chance against those ferals?"

"Honestly I don't know. What is clear is that the ferrals are now extremely dangerous and somewhat organized. It was not a bunch of lunatics that we fought at that car dealership, and we were lucky not to have had more than one casualty." Miles almost added that he had told the kids to spread the word that Saint Xavier could offer shelter to them and others, but thought that Carl would learn of it soon enough, thanks to Greg.

"Go get some rest Miles, you've done enough for today. I'd like to discuss my speech with you, but it can wait until tomorrow. Do you want a boy again this evening? I think young Alex, or perhaps Sean, would be to your taste."

"Thanks, but no. I want to spend some time with Matthew; he had a big scare today when I did not get back on time."

"I see, young Matthew Perry," he insisted on the family name, "Have I already told you that I had a particular interest in that young man, and on two counts?"

"I think you did and I told you there was nothing I could do in that matter. Two counts?"

"Doctor Perry, his father, isn't he the one who warned you, sent you those files? I think you can tell me now. I looked at the boy's file; his father is a virologist, isn't he?"

There's no need to hide anything about that anymore, thought Miles.

"You win Carl, yes, he's the one, and that's one more reason to leave the boy alone."

"If you say so, but what a waste!"

Carl Fisher was pleased; chaos was what he had hoped for from the beginning and from chaos would emerge a new society, one that would serve his purposes and desires. He had dreamed of such a reversal of fortune for a very long time but could never imagine an alignment of the stars that opened so many opportunities. It could not be better and he would use all of the advantages of the present situation.

The Shanxi flu had been the first omen, the way it spared boys and eliminated adults and females, he should have seen it from the start. Being warned and given the opportunity to prepare and scheme had been the second. Thank you Doctor Perry, he thought, I'll take special care of your son, be sure of that. Perhaps not the way you had imagined, but still, he'll be somewhat safe… if he behaves, that is.

Then becoming the headmaster at Saint. Xavier and having the club as a tool to achieve his goals were of his making. His knowledge of the mechanics of the school and its population were the icing on the cake. He knew perfectly well which buttons he needed to push, what qualities and faults he could use.

It was an elite school and the boys were quite conscious of that fact. They knew that they were privileged, and would want to keep that status. That would give them the right sense of belonging, motivate them to consider the outside world as inferior and justify a predatory attitude. To survive in a boarding school, boys learned that they could not do it alone, they had to have friends, clubs, cliques; they needed to cooperate, support each other. It would be Saint Xavier first, above everybody else.

It was also an all-boys school and that meant a certain amount of sexual tension. It made acceptable some wanking services and what came with them; intimacy, secrets shared. Iit was nothing more than that in most cases, but it should not be too difficult to bring them to the next level. Open the way to what those hormone driven young studs would never have thought possible two or three weeks before, and make them love it.

He was himself shocked by some of the ideas he had had these last days, some of them quite extreme, but also very attractive. At the same time, it was the logical consequences of what he did strive to marshal. It would take some time to get there, some opposition would certainly emerge, but he would overcome any difficulty. Once it was put in motion, nothing could stop it. He wanted Greg to be by his side when all was achieved. It would be his gift to the boy; the son he had never been able to have before. He would also largely profit from it, of course. He knew well the dark side of the boy's nature, but was beginning to question if he himself wasn't even worse with those ideas creeping into his head. He had simply kept that side of his psyche well hidden, but it was now slowly being awakened.

Having dismissed Dunn, Carl resumed work on his speech. He had seriously considered some delay, but after the news of the situation in town, he concluded that the time for action had arrived. The following day would be perfect. He wanted to see if he was right and if the school was ripe, if it would react the way he had planned. He would check with Greg in the morning, see how the recruiting had been working. He would then call an assembly for the evening. He could not wait any longer; he wanted all he had conceived to come to fruition as soon as possible.

He missed the air conditioning, now that the game room was operational, and in time, he would see that Ke took care of that. With some luck he might be able to celebrate the success of that crucial assembly with a few boys in his apartments and with the luxury of some fresh cooling air. He would cherish such a privilege, the first of many.

***

It was four forty-five already and Miles was tempted to go straight back to the infirmary and wait for Anthony, but instead he took the direction of Bear House to check on Matthew and the new children they had brought back from town.

He found them in Matthew's bedroom with Johnny and Logan, and they were in better shape. The boys had them take a shower, claiming that the newcomers had "stunk."

Bear House had known quite a few defections, many kids wanting to go to the more prestigious houses, notably Eagles, which was becoming overpopulated. Many rooms had been left empty. They would better define their sleeping arrangements later in the evening.

Shirley had treated them in an office adjoining the gymnasium, away from the sick. She had taken care of the thigh wound and given the boy called Eric a few pills.

He had many questions for them but he would ask them later. Now that he was sure they were fine and taken care of, he could think of himself and his needs again. Anthony was waiting; Miles was already late and would not be able to stay very long with him.

When he entered the patient dormitory, he saw Anthony lying face down and already naked, the KY ready for use on the side table. The boy did not hear him enter; apparently quite engrossed in the game he was playing on his phone.

Miles undressed silently and took him by surprise, covering his slight body by his own and settling his rigid cock in the boy's offered crack.

"So, how's that ankle of yours?"

"Like I said, it's already much better. Nurse Cahill applied an ankle wrap and I've been walking almost normally since."

"We don't have much time. How come your phone is still working? Those batteries should be long gone."

"I told you there were advantages with the club."

"I see." Miles had started to grind himself against the boy, enjoying the velvety feel of his skin and the firmness of his fleshy ass.

"The club is growing; Greg and his pals are recruiting, Alex, Milo, Riichi, and all the others too. They got orders: Carl wants as many of the boys as he can get on his side before he does his speech. He offers a lot."

"Interesting; what is he offering?"

"All one can desire I suppose: power, games, extra food, cigarettes, booze, and sex."

"Sex?"

"He got us boys. You would be surprised how many of the upper grades and prefects have already shown interest."

"And what about you, are you recruiting me?"

"That was the deal, at the beginning. Or rather, I was supposed to implicate you. Fisher likes that word, always uses it in those circumstances, you're not the first one I was asked to implicate," he added with a contrite look.

Implicate, yes it did sound like a word Fisher would use and not a twelve year old, thought Miles.

"I got a movie of our first time together, if you're interested." Miles remained silent and Anthony turned around slightly, abandoning his game. "Sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you, but that was the plan, at first. I didn't know you. I never showed them the movie; I told them it didn't work, and then it lost its value. They never asked for it."

"Yes, of course I understand. It didn't come from you anyway." Miles kissed the boy's lips, his brow. "And now what is your mission?"

The boy grinned conspiratorially, "I'm your little spy, I have only you to take care of, no one else. I have to report what you do, who you talk to, what's on your laptop, that kinda stuff. Carl's looking for some files; he wants me to find them for him. He even wants to know what you think, can you believe that?"

"Why are you telling me all this? It seems to me it will ruin any chance for you to succeed."

"That's the point. I don't care about Carl anymore and I hate Greg. When the shootout started at the depot, I even thought about shooting him, but I didn't do it. Now, I'm on your side."

"You don't think I'm on Carl's side?"

"Not for one minute, you're quite different and I know for sure that Carl is not on your side. You're a good man." The boy's eyes and face were entranced. Miles knew he was not lying, not telling tales, it was very much like a declaration of love, even if the word had not been pronounced. What had he done to merit such trust, such affection?

"I hope you're right Anthony, and that we will come out of this situation alive and good friends. What you've told me will help."

"I'm more than ready to help. If I was Carl's spy, I can also be yours. They'll never know I changed sides."

"That's a dangerous game Anthony. For the moment, I'll ask you to behave as you've been asked, and not take any risks, you'll just tell me what you see and hear. That will be quite enough for the moment"

"I can do that."

"And for now what I really need and would very much like is a good fuck, are you ready for that?"

"Always." Anthony passed his tongue over his lips and stopped Miles from picking up the tube of KY. "No need for that, I lubed it already."

Then no more words could be heard, only some occasional moans and sighs.

***

As Miles entered the dining hall, he was surprised to see Anthony and Sven seated at the same table, surrounded on either side by William, Milo and a few others. They were obviously in the middle of a passionate conversation and they seemed to be getting along with each other very well. It appeared the recent trial had brought them closer together. This pleased Miles, and he hesitated, but decided not to go take a seat with them. It was too early, too obvious; it could bring unwanted attention, perhaps questions. He would wait for now, something he was used to doing. It would give them time to get to know each other better.

Understandably, the atmosphere in the dining hall was completely different from his first days here, but he could feel in the air that an even greater change was coming, that things, very soon, would not be the same at all. There were many hints already: discipline was lax, and some of the faculty – what was left of them – were now seated among the students instead of at the teacher's table. Groups, contradictory to the house logic, had formed, but there would soon be more, a change of purpose, of attitude much more profound than this. Miles called for it and wanted it, even if he knew Carl Fisher would be the one to provoke it and do all he could to be the first one to benefit from it.

He avoided the new headmaster and sat with Walt, Matthew, Johnny, Logan, and the young refugees whose number had significantly grown. The two brothers, who had arrived with the Saint Xavier boy on bikes, had also joined that group. He learned their names, Brent and Cody Higson. It clearly showed that something was brewing. Boys from the outside were not welcome anymore, and even though they did not talk about it, Miles could feel it in the way they behaved, in the fearful glances they sent all around, at their uneasiness. The way they jumped when a plate or glass fell, or with any other unexpected noise.

Of course, he could understand their attitude from their recent painful experiences but there was more to it, Miles was certain of that. It was also quite clear that they did not fit well with the other students, the way they talked, acted, even dressed. They were not from the same mold; they did not belong. Miles expected that in a short while, those differences would lessen and that they would be accepted without restrictions, but it would not be easy for them.

He looked around but did not see Louise, which was just as well since they had decided to avoid unnecessary contacts.

Since he had sat down, Matthew had been holding his hand, not letting go for a minute.

"Matthew, you know it's difficult eating with only one hand."

"Sorry, I was wondering, if you'd be in your room this evening, and if I could visit?"

"Yes to both of your questions, and don't worry, you'll be number one on my list tonight."

Satisfied, the boy finally let go of Miles' hand and at last attacked his food with enthusiasm. Miles would dedicate some time later to try to relieve some of the anxiety the boy had shown since his return. He had not expected Matthew to react so strongly. Miles caressed his blond curls with affection and then started eating. When he got to the dessert, some fruit salad, he addressed the young refugees.

"Boys, what can you tell me of the ferals out there, have you seen many?"

There was no immediate answer, but at last, the boy with the knife wound, Eric, spoke.

"We haven't seen that many. We came to the town to find help. Two of the kids in our group barely escaped from them three nights ago, before they came along with us. They said they come out mostly at night and usually there's a few of them. That's what they said, anyway. We've tried to avoid them by hiding inside buildings at night."

"Aren't they the ones that hurt you?" asked Logan.

"No, it was other kids, big ones, who wanted to have fun with us. I didn't let them touch my sister."

One of the Higson boys spoke then, wanting to share his own experience.

"They don't only go out at night. We met two groups of 'em on our way here," said one of the boys, "we were on our bikes and they tried to get us, but we were faster. There were about ten of them, I think, around dusk. The other time we saw, like, five of them a little ways away in the afternoon," his voice caught, "we heard the shouts first, they had cornered three kids, small ones. We saw what they did. They tore them apart but there was nothing we could do. Was there?"

The boy looked up at Miles with questioning eyes, searching for some sort of confirmation that he had done the right thing.

"No, unfortunately," said Miles.

"But here we're learning to fight and shoot, thanks to Mister Dunn," said Johnny. "You guys won't be helpless for long. We are Dunn's Warriors!"

The boys, listening, remained silent. They did not show the same eagerness; they had been through hell, lost their parents, people they cared for, and a lot of other things that had made sense to them in their old lives. Miles did not ask, but some of them may have been attacked by people very close to them, had fled those that were supposed to protect them, love them. It would be some time before they would be able to trust others and find their footing again.

Wanting to change the subject, Miles stuck his hand out towards the boy.

"I'm Mister Dunn, by the way."

"Brent," the boy said and shook it. The boy had a strong grip for a child, the sign of a natural leader. Miles' heart went out to him. Would he have been so brave at such a tender age? He liked to think so, but there was no way of knowing.

After that, small talk resumed around the table but it was subdued. Miles told Walt to find the new boys and girl a place to stay for the night, close to his and Walt's room at Bear House. It was certainly better for them; Miles feared they would not be very welcome in the other houses.

***

Louise Simons was in her apartment having dinner. She had swung by the cafeteria to pick up a platter, fill it with food, and take it back to her room, deciding to eat alone, away from the noise and excitement. She needed to calm down after the day's events, the fight, the killings.

It had been, and felt, quite different from her first outing a few days earlier. Her shots, then, had been surgical ones, from afar, cold and impersonal. It had been something else this time. They had come from nowhere, taking their group almost by surprise. She had seen their faces; she had seen them fall, crawling when wounded. They were human beings; they had been, at least not so long ago, and they were now the enemy. She had thought she would never find herself in that same situation again. Well, it wasn't really the same but it brought back feelings, memories she had put away for a long time.

In the short time they had, once the fight was over, she had seen Greg and his buddies smiling and posing while taking selfies of themselves with the dead and dying ferals scattered around them. She had hated that. She had felt her anger rising again, giving her strength, but also taking out all moderation. That anger had made its return even before that. Carl Fisher was bringing it back, and Greg too. She knew those two were dangerous, she had known it for a long time but she had done nothing. She had thought it was none of her business, that she could not intervene in an effective way, and that there was no need. Now that everything had changed, that everything was becoming possible for them, she was thinking that she had been wrong; she had to do something, soon.

She went to her desk in her bedroom, opened the bottom drawer, and pulled out two books. She sat and started going through the pages. They were old but in perfect shape. The first one was the yearbook from Norfolk College, the class of 1989. The second one was a simple hardcover notebook with cutout newspaper articles glued to the pages.

After a few minutes, she closed them both and put them back in the drawer, and then she picked up the weapons she had used earlier that day, disassembled them, and started cleaning each part methodically. Ten minutes later, they were sparkling clean and ready for use again.

***

That evening, Miles had been eagerly waiting for the knock on his door while at the same time wondering if he should not have accepted Fisher's offering of a new boy for the night. But as soon as the knock came, he couldn't hide the large smile as he opened his door to see who would be accompanying Matthew that evening.

The boy was alone on his doorstep and Miles could not avoid having a look around, searching for the others before letting the boy in.

"There's only me, for the moment. You don't mind, do you?"

"Not at all, I was just surprised."

"Yeah, they wanted to come but I told them not to, not yet. I wanted some time alone with you first."

Miles wondered where this was leading. It showed the boy had some sway and authority over his friends. He was dressed as usual in light blue shorts and a white tank top, nothing special, looking as adorable as ever.

"It's a bit embarrassing."

"Don't worry, I'm listening. What did you want to talk to me about?"

"I couldn't do it with the others around."

"Do what? You can tell me, there's nothing to be afraid of."

What could he be referring to?

"Could I spend the night here with you?"

"Um, sleep with me? Tonight? What do you mean?" It couldn't be, he couldn't know! In fact, he certainly could, he was smart enough. There could have been clues during their "games," some of his attitudes, who knew?

"Logan told me he did the other night. Didn't he?" There was eagerness, longing in his voice… jealousy?

Was it just that? Miles felt mixed feelings of relief as well as, he had to say, regret.

"I don't know. Aren't you a bit too big for that? You're not a little kid anymore. I know you got a fright today, because of me. Is that the reason? I'm not sure that's the best way to face it."

At these words, Matthew's face lost its enthusiasm, replaced by a scowl. Miles reacted immediately, taking him in his arms like a much smaller child.

"True, Logan is not that much younger than you. You're certainly worthy of that privilege. Of course you can spend the night with me! I sure hope you don't snore or flail around when you sleep though."

"I don't think I do… I can? Oh thank you, thank you so much!" He embraced the man, burying himself in the much more solid frame of the adult.

"We won't make a habit of it though, okay?"

"I don't know. I don't think I'd mind."

What does he really want? thought Miles. With all that has happened, I 'm afraid I'm becoming unhinged – over interpreting or misinterpreting everything. How to manage Matthew when there was already Sven and Anthony? He saw many complications on the horizon. And it's all my fault.

"They'll be here in a minute. What do we tell them?" asked the boy, suddenly concerned again.

"Tell who?"

"Bob, Johnny, Logan…"

"I see, you're afraid of what they might think. Don't worry, we'll think of something."

"But what?"

"Just give me a minute." Now that it was settled, Miles wanted to spend the night with the boy as much as the boy wanted to stay with him. He had to find the right pretext, but nothing was coming.

"They're coming, I hear them," said the boy somewhat in a panic. Sure enough, Miles could hear their enthusiastic shouts and they made their way down the hall.

"You could have thought of something yourself, Matthew. You had the time to."

"I didn't think you'd say yes," he answered with a victorious little smile.

"Wait till we are alone again squirt…"

Then it was too late; the other three were at the door, waiting to be let in. That's when the idea struck, perhaps not the best one, but a valid one.

"Hi guys," Miles said as he opened the door, "it's been quite a day for me; I'll have to send you back to bed soon."

"We hoped you would tell us everything that happened," said Johnny.

"You can ask Walt, he was there."

"We missed our training today," said Bob

"I know, we'll do more tomorrow."

"So no tickle game tonight?" piped Logan, disappointed.

"Sorry, no. There's a couple things I want to ask you though, since you'll have some time this evening. I would like you to try making all those refugee boys and the girl feel a little more at home. They've been through hard times; see that they have all they need. Show them some kindness. Can you do that?"

There was some hesitation on Johnny's part concerning that task, much less from Bob and Logan. Bob certainly due to his strong Christian education, Logan as a scholarship boy. There was no enthusiasm though. They were true Saint Xavier boys with a strong sense of belonging already. But they were all good kids, he just had to show them the way to get the expected results. They agreed, and Miles knew they would do their best.

"Okay, but I'm not taking care of that girl," replied Logan, his expression of disgust bringing smiles all around.

"Okay, you're dispensed of the girl, Logan. I hope all of you will keep a good attitude towards the refugees over the next few days too, all of you. One more thing, boys, something that's a bit more delicate…"

Bob had mostly been watching Matthew the whole time, certainly curious about his friend's mind-set, and why he had asked to see Dunn alone. Matthew had been silent all the while and was desperately searching for a good excuse to spend the night here, fearing Miles would not find one himself.

"…and concerning Matthew."

All eyes were immediately focused on Matthew, and alarm showed on Bob's face. It was too late to backtrack now, even if Miles himself knew it was far from the best idea in these circumstances.

"Matthew is not feeling well. That's why he wanted to see me alone, he has a sore throat, some nausea; nothing serious I'm sure, so don't worry too much. He had his fever checked and he's fine right now."

"Yeah, I was there," said Bob, looking very concerned and attentive.

Matthew took the occasion to clear his throat as if it was hurting –the perfect little actor. He had adapted to the lie in a second.

"Why didn't you tell me?" exclaimed Bob between worry and irritation.

"I wanted to talk to Mister Dunn first. I was afraid." He was imitating a broken voice with some success, without overdoing it.

"Is it the flu?" Bob's face had turned white despite its tan.

"No, definitely not," said Miles quickly, "I know the symptoms well by now. I think it's nothing and will probably be gone by tomorrow, but I want to keep an eye on him. Till then, he'll sleep here tonight."

"Sleep here? Why?" Bob wasn't convinced.

"I don't want a prefect or Miss Cahill to be involved; I don't want him taken to the gymnasium like Ke. So please keep it to yourselves. You understand?"

"Yes, I think we do. Can we tell Walt? He's gonna ask questions."

"Yes, but no one else."

"But where is he going to sleep?" Bob still appeared intrigued by the whole story.

"Well, in the bed, of course."

"With you?"

"The bed isn't that big, but he isn't either. I'm sure he'll fit alright."

"If you say so." Clearly, Bob had determined something wasn't right and was still searching for it.

"Don't worry, we'll manage. Come on kids, we need some rest here; I know you got plenty of things to do. I'll see you all tomorrow."

They left, Bob clearly reluctant and with a suspicious glance back at them. What was he thinking, the little wanker? But what was done was done and what was said was said. Anyway, Miles was rather pleased to spend the night with the boy, regardless of what Bob may think. He didn't really care anymore. He was there to enjoy whatever time he had left and nothing could be better than the boy's company.

***

As his name implied, Burt Allgood felt all good. It was not pussy, but certainly the next best thing. The boy seemed quite expert and knew how to please. The whole situation had occurred without him doing anything to make it happen, or really asking for anything. That, at least, took away most of the guilt he might have otherwise felt.

His luck had started the previous day, after "the adventure," as Ethan called it. It had been a very successful foray right from the start, and at the first house they visited. The owners had obviously left in a hurry. They found two hunting rifles hanging on the wall and the ammunition that worked with them in a console drawer just underneath. There was also plenty of food: rice, pasta, and canned goods in two cupboards in the kitchen, enough to last them perhaps several weeks. He did not forget he had ten mouths to feed. The house was quite close to his own, so they would be able to come as often as needed, and with minimum risk, one or two trips would be enough for everything if they brought Bradley along. They were back home not two hours after having left, and without incident. Burt made the kids an early dinner of spaghetti with jarred spaghetti sauce, which they ate to their fill in no time. He had wine, having brought it back too, and gave sips to Ethan and Bradley.

Then he went for a nap.

When he woke up, the house was very quiet – too quiet. He picked up the gun and went to investigate. First, he heard strange noises coming from the recreation room where some of the older boys slept. Was it heavy breathing? Moans? Whispers?

He had no shoes and was rather silent as he walked down the hallway. When he had a good view of the scene unfolding before him, he was struck speechless.

Six of the boys in different stages of undress were hard at work pleasuring each other. It was a bit more than a wanking club; he had known those as a young boy himself. Two of them were giving enthusiastic blowjobs to their partners, Ethan notably servicing a very satisfied Bradley. The hand that was holding the gun had fallen by Burt's side and a spectacular erection had sprung up, tenting his boxers.

It took some time before his presence was finally acknowledged by one of the boys, but not before Bradley had warned Ethan of his imminent orgasm; the younger boy finishing the job by hand and smiling at the copious ejaculation he had created.

A few seconds later, all activity had ceased in the room and an ominous silence reigned. Most boys looked downward, not daring to meet Burt's gaze.

Bradley was the first to talk.

"I can explain everything… we were bored… they wanted to do it… what was I supposed to do?"

"Yeah, it was fun," added Joe.

Ethan stayed silent, looking at the ground.

"No need for an explanation, boys," Burt said, raising his empty hand in denial. "Ethan, come with me. Boys, you're free to resume what you were doing."

They looked at each other, not daring to move. After a moment of hesitation Ethan stood up, Burt turned around, and the boy followed him to his bedroom without a word.

Burt took off his boxer shorts, laid down on the bed, and pointed to his massive erection as he said, "do you mind?"

"It's much bigger than Bradley's," was all the boy said, before taking position on the bed and possession of the man's cock, putting his mouth to work.

"I'm sure you can manage," said Burt, "Such long, soft hair," he said as he gently ran his hand through the boy's locks. He was in heaven for the next ten minutes, enjoying the boy's prowess and tentatively exploring the child's half-naked body. He had many questions to ask, but the boy was obviously not in a position to answer them just then.

As Bradley had done earlier, he had warned Ethan of his coming orgasm, not wanting to come in his mouth that first time. For Burt this was still memorable. He almost kissed the boy but refrained before cleaning his mess with some paper towels. He did not want to embarrass him. He then saw that the boy was aroused, his small erection was poking out of his underwear, his only garment. The man's hand instinctively reached forwards to pet it.

"Was it good?" asked Ethan, still a little unsure of himself.

"One of the best I've ever had," answered the man reassuringly. "Where'd you learn that?

"With Bradley. Like I said, we were bored and he taught me, we've been doing it for a week. The others joined us one at a time."

"You're a very gifted boy. Did you like it?" he added, pointing at the boy's very hard dick.

"Kind of, but I'm not gay! I told that to Bradley already."

"No need to be gay to enjoy it, Ethan. Don't worry, it can stay between us."

"Okay."

"Would you like to do it again?"

"Okay."

"Perhaps I could teach you a few other tricks?"

"O-okay." A little bit more hesitant.

"You don't know how much I needed that. You're a lifesaver!"

"It's nothing really."

"It means a lot to me. You certainly know I had a reputation?"

"Yeah, everyone in the area does."

The boy smiled at that: a beautiful smile. Burt felt like kissing those lips again, but it was too much, too soon. For the boy, but also for himself, he decided to leave it at that.

"Let's go put everybody to bed." He wanted to ask the boy to share his bed that night but did not. It would come later.

***

Now that Matthew and Miles were alone, an awkward silence fell on the small room.

"I should not have said that. They'll be so worried all night and…what about Bob, did you see the look he gave me?" ventured Miles.

Matthew did not answer but came closer and took the man in his arms, burying his head in his belly.

"It's only for tonight, they'll forget about it soon."

"These words don't sound like they're coming from you Matthew, not the Matthew I know. It sounds very selfish."

"It was your idea, I'm not responsible. Probably not the best one we could come up with but I got what I wanted, didn't I?"

The boy was making fun of him while showing him his strong affection. He was intelligent and more complex than Miles had thought at first, probably hiding a will of steel behind his shyness and gentleness. Which were no less true, as Miles had many occasions to witness.

"But what about your friends?"

"Yeah, I feel a bit guilty just like you do. But there is only the two of us here now, and I wanted that so much."

There were almost tears in his eyes; he was so fragile. Miles had to recall he had lost his mother and brother a few months back and then unexpectedly had been sent to a new school far away from home. Then he had lost contact with his father, not knowing if he would ever see him again. The boy had certainly been terrified, his heart broken when Miles had not shown up on time. Miles could imagine he has spent the awfully long hours that afternoon reliving his previous separations from loved ones.

"You're right, they will soon have forgotten all about it, as soon as they see you in good shape tomorrow morning. Come sit on the bed. What do you wanna do before going to sleep, play a game on the laptop?"

"What I want is to be with you."

"You don't want to go to sleep already?"

"No, not yet… okay, let's play a game." The boy's eyes fell on the laptop and he pointed at it. "No one has working batteries or power anymore, you're so lucky."

"It's for my work, you know. Perhaps you'll soon be able to use all your electronic devices again."

"Really, how come?"

"Because we are special friends and because Carl Fisher needs me. I should be able to negotiate something like that with him; some privileges."

"Bob doesn't like him; he says you should be wary of him."

"He's probably right; in fact, you should stay away from him and Greg Sutton from now on. I'll be cautious myself but he should be afraid of me too, you know I have the means to defend myself."

One hour later, after enjoying his company, Miles left the boy engrossed in a game of Candy Crush while he went on his last round of the school. It was hurried; all he wanted was to get back to Matthew. They would spend the whole night together, something that was totally unexpected and totally intoxicating. There was still the question of whether or not something would happen. He had decided that boy was out of bounds, not to be touched, but what if it was the boy that initiated it? Miles was still quite uncertain of the child's motivation to want to spend the night. Much of his words and attitudes could be interpreted in different ways. Soon he would know, but he promised himself to stay on the defensive and avoid any misplaced gestures on his part.

When he returned twenty-five minutes later, the boy was still playing, but looked tired, and his eyes were drooping.

"I think it's time for bed Matthew, I feel exhausted myself. It's been a long, difficult day."

"It's hot," said the boy, stretching his body like a cat. "Can I take my clothes off while I sleep? I've been doing it bare-skinned for weeks now."

"You mean… without any clothes on, not even your underwear? In the nude?"

"Yes, I kind of like it that way. You don't mind, do you?"

"Mind, well… ah, no… Do as you wish."

It was true that it was fairly hot that evening, and there was no breeze blowing in from the open window.

"Are you going to sleep naked too?"

"Ehm… no, I don't usually do that. I'll keep my boxers on."

"Okay." Then, quite naturally, the boy pulled off his tank top and then slipped out of his shorts.

"Which side do you want?"

"I don't really care. I'll take the one facing the door, in case I have to get up in the night."

"Okay"

Miles watched carefully as Matthew took off his Hanes underwear and lay down on top of the bed sheet; they would certainly not need to slip under it with the heat. How stupid of him, he knew something like this was bound to happen. He was hard and it was going to be difficult to hide that quite obvious fact the whole night. It was not the sight of the boy in his birthday suit. He had seen him numerous times already in the showers. No, it was the images associated with this situation that filled his brain with delightful possibilities; ones that he could not shun away.

"I need to go to the bathroom, wash, and brush my teeth," said Miles, "I'll be back in a minute."

Had it been staged by the boy? Did he really want what the man dreamed of or was it only innocence and trust? In any case, Miles had relieved himself with a few strokes before returning to Matthew moments later, who immediately jumped back into bed with him. The boy lay down on his side facing the door, his cocklet flaccid; there was no indication there.

"I saw your hard-on when you left. You were trying to hide it, weren't you? You don't need to, I know all about it now. Bob showed me."

"Bob?"

"Yes, he showed me videos. Don't worry, I'm not afraid to show mine either. See?" He propelled his hips forward to present his cute, two-inch [5 cm] pricklet. "We all have one, don't we? It gets hard when I have to pee, mostly. But anyway, I'm gonna go to sleep now, you can leave the light on if you want to read or work some more."

He then turned around, shamelessly presenting his lovely and perfect rump, the sight of which left Miles mouth open. Innocence and trust unfortunately. What kind of videos did Bob show him?

***

Bob didn't know what to think, one minute he was desperate with worry for his friend, the next one he was questioning the whole thing and wondering what was going on. Matthew never looked sick before he went to see Dunn. They had been together the whole day and he would have noticed something. Since he would not have an answer for this question until the following morning, he put his mind to the task at hand: taking care of the new arrivals.

It had been easy with the farm boys who adapted to their group quite fast, if not to the school as a whole. The elder boy, Chad, had taken an immediate liking to Walt, and that certainly helped. The townies, as they had been calling them, were a different story. They were keeping to themselves. The boy Eric was overprotective of his sister and all of them were wary of any attempts at friendship or simple small talk. One by one, Logan, Walt, and even Johnny abandoned that goal. The room next to theirs was empty and they just settled them there as best as they could.

"If we took off a few partitions we could make a place for all of Dunn's Warriors," said Johnny. "That would be neat, all of us together. Others have done it"

"We could watch over everybody that way. No one feeling left alone anymore," added Logan.

"Would they want to come to Bear House? It's not the most prestigious," interjected Walt.

"But now that it's the home of Dunn's Warriors, it'll be famous."

"At least our room would be less crowded, there's seven of us here with the Conner boys," said Bob.

"I rather like the Conners, they don't bother me," said Walt.

"You've made a good friend with Chad, that's for sure," said Bob sarcastically.

Before Walt had time to answer, Johnny said, "I rather like them too, Mikey's funny."

"If you say so, maybe you're right."

Bob's mind drifted back towards thoughts of Matthew and Dunn. His allusion to the complicity between Walt and Chad, the hints he had noticed that it was more than simple friendship reminded him of the other two. He was now well aware of what could happen between boys, bigger and younger, as well as men and boys. He had felt unconcerned when his parents had warned him, time and time again. Repeated again by the media and the school authorities that had informed all students that there were dangerous men and that you were not to let them or anyone touch you. You had to learn to say no to adults. What a joke! Many would have liked to say no to school or chores!

The two boys at the barn certainly did not miss an occasion to do what they had been warned about. He himself had discovered the joys of masturbation and practiced it as often as possible. Too bad Matthew wasn't really interested.

With Greg and his buddies, that was another story. He was sure to avoid them for this and other reasons. His instincts told him not to trust Mr. Fisher, either. The man had a creepy way of looking at kids.

But what about Dunn? Wasn't he overly friendly with them from the start? He was also somewhat strange or tense for no reason when he was around or looked at him. It had been so at the beginning, at least. The vibes were not the same as with Fisher though. Still, could he be taking advantage of Matthew who had been trusted to him by his father? What then? He was nice and seemed to care about them. He didn't talk down to kids. But could he trust Mr. Dunn? Was it all an act to get what he really wanted? Perhaps it was best to trust Matthew, who knew Dunn rather well. Bob was pretty sure he would never let anyone do something to him that he didn't want. He had witnessed it when he had showed him the videos. He could say no, just like that. But what if Dunn forced him?

Just thinking of all those possibilities gave him a hard-on. Just across the corridor, Dunn and Matthew were only a few feet from where he lay… A wave of loathing flooded over Bob. He should not think that way. Matthew was his friend, his best friend ever. Mister Dunn was a good man; he had taught him how to use guns safely. There was probably – no – certainly nothing going on in there, it was all coming from his obsessed mind. Better to think of Lukas and Mike in the barn, or of Walt and Chad… what were those two doing?

If there had been girls at the school, he would have been able to think about them; that would certainly have been better. Unfortunately, there were none; except for the newly arrived ten-year-old with her brother, but could she even be considered a girl? It was becoming a real worry; he did not want to think of Matthew or any other boy, nor any man in that way.

***

Miles didn't dare move as the boy fell asleep by his side, and made sure that their bodies didn't touch. How much he longed to take him in his arms and explore, relish and take pleasure in the intimate contact. It would be so easy; it could be done in seconds, followed by a whole night of delights. He had seen Matthew numerous times in the shower, and he knew every minute detail of his perfect body. But he didn't want to. He wanted to set limits. To show himself that he could resist his cravings and master his desires – at least with this one boy.

Miles needed to prove to himself that he could love this boy without any sexual satisfaction attached to it. The night would be long and he didn't know if he would be capable of getting any sleep. Let's say it would be like in Afghanistan with the Bacha Bazi boy, whose picture was on the wall. Nothing sexual had occurred that night either. He had touched him though, and enjoyed the feel of his lustrous skin. But he didn't dare try that now, fearing that the dam would break once again. Had all that he had achieved in these weeks at Saint Xavier been a lie? Was he still just that drunken man in the SUV in Manila, ready to take his pleasure whatever the cost to the boy? It had almost happened with Logan already.

It was Matthew that made the decision for him, shamelessly turning around again as he slipped under the man's arm and used him as a living pillow. Casually and of its own volition, Miles' hand fell neatly on the boy's fleshy buttocks, cupping one of the firm, round cheeks.

And nothing happened…

Well not exactly nothing, but not what the man had dreaded.

The feel had been exquisite. It had not only been physical, it had been emotional as well: the firm mound under his hand, the hot velvety skin, the weight on his torso so light and considerable at the same time, the smell and airy touch of the boy's head under his chin. Then there was the trust, the confidence, the… love that emanated from it all. It was sensual without being sexual.

It was paradise.

In paradise, nothing wrong could happen. His hand went up the boy's back to the fragile neck then down again, soothing, caressing, as Matthew fell into a deep slumber. It did not search for the crack or touch his easily accessible balls or cocklet; it simply reveled in its affectionate touch and the deep satisfaction it procured. He strained not to move, not out of fear but only because he didn't want to risk awakening the child.

Finally, after gorging himself on those sensations, he quietly fell asleep.

***

It was indeed paradise, the boy's hole was so tight and sweet; he was thrusting away as if there would be no end to his bliss. He didn't care who the boy was or whether he liked it or not. He was fucking him doggy style, holding his black-haired head down to get the best angle for penetration. How long had he been at it, he didn't know. Hours? Days? One thing he did know was that he didn't want to stop, not ever.

"What are you doing?"

What? Who was talking? Not the boy under him, he was just whimpering.

"What are you doing to Bob?"

Bob, who was Bob? He raised the boy's head, yes, it was Bob; he was smiling now as if it was all a setup, a trap? Who was talking? He was looking all around. He was in a car, or was it a classroom? It could not be a classroom. It was all so confusing.

"You've hurt my friend."

It was Matthew. He was seated on a chair in his school uniform and he was right; there was blood, lots of it, pools of blood coming from the smiling boy's hole, pushing him away.

"I love you," said Bob.

"I love you," said Matthew.

"But please don't hurt us…" they said together.

"Never," he answered. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!"

He was in a bed alone, the blood was gone and the boys had left. He was desperate to find them again. How he missed that tight hole! He was hard, harder than ever.

Then there was a knock on the door.

Sven, rubbing his crack on the bed beside him, said, "Someone's knocking at the door."

"I know, but I don't want to open it. I want to stay with you; I want to do it again…"

And then he woke up.

He was spooning Matthew, his morning wood settled between the sleeping boy's naked buns. He pulled away instinctively when all he wanted was to stay there and cuddle. There was a light knock on the door again, only this time it wasn't a part of the dream.

With Matthew naked and my tented shorts, I couldn't possibly look more guilty to whoever is on the other side of that door, thought Miles Dunn as he slowly woke to full consciousness. What the hell, who cares? Let them think whatever they want!

"Come in," he said, and watched as the door opened slowly.

Bob slipped into the room wearing nothing more than his own shorts, and Miles' cock stirred some more. But he didn't try to hide it. The boy appeared fascinated by the scene in front of him.

"I came to get some news. How is he?"

"He's fine, still sleeping. He was hot and took off his clothes, but not because of any fever, so don't worry about that. Let's wake him together and see what he has to say.

Bob was a bit hesitant as he came closer, while the man gently shook the boy's shoulder.

"Matthew, wake up. Look who's come to see you."

The boy on the bed stirred slowly, stretched, and turned around to face the other two, the traces of the pillow sheet marking his face.

"Hi Flash. Come sleep with us. It's early yet and I'm still sleepy." Without any shame and just like the previous night, he embraced the man, finding a comfortable position.

Miles disengaged gently from his sweet contact and indicating the tent in his shorts, said, "I have to go take a leak. I'll leave you two alone for a minute."

Bob had been watching everything very carefully. He was focused on the bed and sheets, the man and boy, and desperately searching for traces of illicit activity. Miles had decided that acting with spontaneity and stating facts was the best way to get rid of any suspicion. It was seven-thirty when he usually went for his shower. This time, he would come back to bed and enjoy the boy's presence a bit longer. He would gladly let Bob join them but he feared it would be difficult to fit them all in comfortably. At the same time, there would be advantages for him…

***

As the morning light streamed in through the dirty window, Sasha Bronski decided it was time to move closer towards his goal. The day before he had only gotten as far as Oak Street. It wasn't a great distance, but he had found edible food and a place to spend the night. Most houses he had searched were open but quite a few smelled of death and he did not enter them. He used the backyards to go from one to the other, avoiding the streets. He had less visibility of what lay ahead that way, but he was also less exposed. He also stopped frequently to listen for any suspicious sounds.

He had moved slowly and carefully, staying hidden for large amounts of time whenever he spotted any ferals. He had taken a map of the Crestview Resort and planned on reaching Grant Street later that day. He would be very close to his goal then, which was the main gate. He had had time to get a good picture of what was happening before the electric grid had shut down; CNN had its uses, finally. He hoped he would find someone still alive to help him. Most of all, he hoped against all odds that his mother was still out there.

Perhaps he should have waited longer for her. He was still ambivalent about his decision and had thought, during the night, of going back. But his solitude was becoming unbearable and he wanted to get out of Crestview, which now felt like a prison. What would happen next he didn't know; but it would be better than what he could hope for if he stayed.

In the meantime, he had crafted a kind of spear using his knife and a broomstick handle, but he still had not found a real gun which he could use to defend himself. This might be a good thing, however, since the noise it would make could bring more of them to him. If he did manage to find one, it would be wise to use it only as a last resort.

After having a good look around through the upstairs windows, he put on his backpack, which was filled with as much food and necessities as he could carry. He had also put the business end of the baseball bat inside to free one of his hands. Carrying his homemade spear, he quietly snuck out the back door. It was already hot, without a cloud in the sky. There was no real separation between houses so his progression was rather easy. All he had to do before moving forward was check to see if the path was clear, as best as he could. He could hear some birds singing in the trees, but nothing else. It had been some time since he had heard sirens, shots, or people shouting.

Sasha had made good progress in the first two hours and had seen no one except for a few bodies lying on the grass or concrete. He had counted four so far, outside, and one more when peering into a house through a window. He was about to cross Milton Avenue when he saw the sixth body lying on the grass it's hand almost reaching an alley to his right. He saw a flash first, the sun's rays reflected on something metallic near the man's hand – a gun!

Sasha crouched close to the ground and hid behind some shrubbery, not daring to move. The gun was only about fifty feet [15 m] away, but it was out in the open. There was no way to get there under any cover. Sasha hesitated; it was so quiet and no one in sight anywhere, but was it safe? Was it worth taking the risk? Were there any bullets left in that gun? But also, was it possible to ignore the protection such a weapon could provide? He reflected that he eventually had to cross the avenue, so he would be in plain sight anyway. He could do a minor detour and pick the gun on his way. It would take a few seconds at the most if he ran all the way. He was sweating; he had taken the food but forgotten the water. Get the gun, cross the street; find a house and some water; piece of cake, he told himself.

He jumped out like a jackrabbit from his hole. His eyes fixed on his objective: the gun. He was there fast and picked it up. It was heavier than he would have thought and felt hot from lying in the sun. He veered to his left to cross the avenue, spotted a place where he would be hidden from sight again, and turned in that direction without stopping. He was there crouched again in a short time, not even out of breath. He had done it! He looked down at the weapon in his hand, his prize. Then, he looked around but saw no one and heard nothing except for the birds in the trees all around, a reassuring sound.

A smile crept upon his face. He passed his free hand over his brow, which was slick with sweat, then using every available cover, left the proximity of the avenue to resume his journey through the backyards. He soon found a faucet, turned it, and got only a trickle of water. He formed a cup with his hands and waited for it to be filled before he started to drink. He was still on high alert, but with a new confidence. He had his gun.

Once satiated, he took it out of his belt to examine it. He knew there was a safety but didn't really know how to switch it on or off. He also searched for a way to extract the magazine with the bullets. He soon found the button and pressed it, and the magazine slid out of the grip and into his free hand. With satisfaction, he saw that there were still quite a few rounds left, but this wasn't the time or place to take them out and count them. He would do that later. He wanted to try shooting it to see how it felt, a strong urge for a boy, but he resisted because he didn't want to waste a bullet or make any noise.

He was about to move again when he heard it. It was coming from two or three houses ahead, the kind of crack that might be heard in a horror movie, when one of the characters stepped on a dry branch. He had heard something very similar a few minutes earlier, but it had come from behind that time. He stayed put, listening and watching all around as he tried to identify the origin of the noises. What or who was making them? There had to be some animals around; no dogs, at least not big ones since, like children, they were forbidden, but cats certainly and probably some wildlife.

Could it be a feral? Certainly not, they were mindless, jumping at you at the first occasion. They didn't set traps and they did not hunt you, or did they, now? He had not been able to shake the feeling that he was being followed since he had grabbed the gun and crossed that avenue without wanting to acknowledge it. He didn't think it could be, but he was already thinking of his options just in case. An escape route? Use the spear or gun? The spear first, and then gun as a last resort? The noise would bring more of them – if it actually was a feral. He was a fast runner and they were old, at least most of them were. He needed to leave the backyards for a time to get to Lamont Street where he would have a better view of things and he could run fast if necessary.

He looked at the map; if he reached Armand Circle, there were no houses there, only trees and many places to hide. He put it back in his pocket and started walking around the house. As he rounded the corner, he turned toward the street. He stopped before reaching the front of the house and heard it again, not just one crack this time but several, closer.

He started forward again slowly, onto the front lawn before stopping once more, looking right and left. He saw one of them perhaps a hundred feet [30 m] away, watching him. The feral was soon joined by two others. One was naked, another one in pajamas, and the first one shirtless. There were no shoes on their feet, which was good.

As he feared but expected, two more appeared from the other direction and he could hear even more coming from behind him. He was cornered.

Sasha tightened the grip on his spear and started running. He did not go right or left but crossed Lamont Street and continued straight ahead between the two houses on the other side, then jumped a small hedge that separated the backyards. He found himself on Gold Street, and this time, he ran towards Armand Circle. He could hear them clearly now, pursuing him. They were emitting strange sounds as if calling to each other. What worried him more were the sounds that came from other directions, seeming to answer them.

He ran as fast as he could, and he soon outdistanced his pursuers. I'm going to make it, he thought. He looked behind him and saw perhaps ten of them already quite far away. As he faced ahead again, out of the corner of his eye he saw an old lady coming toward him with a knife in her hand. Out of instinct more than anything else, he raised his spear and pierced her belly, the blade exiting out her back. Sasha let go of the handle as he kept running. She fell to the ground, twisting and turning like a fish out of water trying, to rid herself of the skewer.

Sasha ran, pulling out the baseball bat without looking back, his eyes fixed on his goal. The strange sounds were diminishing in number and intensity. He was almost there! He had never run this fast before, and he was getting out of breath; he could not last much longer. He slowed down as he saw the sign, passed the houses, and entered the small woods behind them.

The trees were oaks, old big ones. He observed them as he caught his breath, chose one, and started to climb. He did not stop until he was high enough and well hidden by its leaves. He had chosen wisely. The trunk and branches offered him a secure hiding place. Tree climbing had been a hobby of his when younger, one that he had never expected to save his life.

He stayed silent and immobile for a few minutes before starting to relax. Lost them! As soon as the thought had crossed his mind, he heard them again. How could they… the boy thought to himself, what I am going to do now?

***

Carl Fisher was satisfied with Greg's report, which went beyond his expectations. The carrots were working; very few boys declined or showed disinterest. He took Greg's clout into consideration, which could have influenced his fellow students' answers and reactions. He also knew he was not the only one recruiting – far from it.

It was decided; he would call an assembly and give his grand speech that same evening. It was a bizarre feeling. There was no stress, no anxiety, only a rather strange calm that had settled over him. He knew what he had to say and do, and there would be help from the audience, the club members, and the new recruits who had been told what they needed to do. Once it was over, it would be time to celebrate. He did not doubt he would be successful. He would think of the best way to commemorate the occasion. Some names came to his mind but it would have to be somewhat special.

He could ask Dunn to come and participate, and perhaps bring young Matthew along with him. Matthew, why was that boy so special to him? He had known so many already. It was wishful thinking. Dunn would not be in the mood to share the evening with him, not after what Carl planned to say. Fisher had to send others to the front lines as he had always done. One could not change who they were overnight. Miles would not offer him the Perry boy either. Was the marine saving the boy for himself or was he true to his word and vowed never to touch him? In any case, the good thing was that the boy was still a virgin, and as innocent as could be. Carl would still ask Anthony and demand that he keep an eye on that precious boy, just to be sure.

Carl was waiting for Alex and Sean to go visit Dunn in his office. Miles always went there for a few minutes before lunch. Carl assumed that he was still probably on the field right now, drilling the boys and teaching them how to use firearms. Perhaps I should ask for a few lessons myself, Carl thought. It could be useful in this new world. He had to mellow Dunn somewhat and offer him some more entertainment with one of the boys, or maybe both boys, if the man preferred. Certainly, Carl should inform him of the coming assembly, and ask Miles for his advice that could help their relationship too.

There was a knock on the door.

"Come in, Rose."

"The boys are here."

"Do you know if Mister Dunn is in his office?"

"I don't know, but I can go see," she said.

"Don't mind, I'll go myself. Some walking will do me good."

Miss Eldritch had been devastated by Daniels' death and now served the new headmaster blindly and with dedication.

"I'll see you for lunch," Carl added.

Alex and Sean were waiting outside the door, and as he stepped through it and walked down the hallway, they followed him without a word.

***

Carl and Miles had a casual conversation while the dining hall filled with boys. Carl had prepared all day for his speech and the declaration of the new regime that would apply at Saint Xavier for the future, and thought carefully about how to stage it. He half listened for what Miles wanted to tell him, but he needed to maintain his concentration.

All of the club members were to stand together, bringing with them all those affiliated. They had to show their numbers and muscle. Carl wanted to silence all opposition, or even any questioning of his stance. He was assured now that Dunn would stay neutral. That left only Louise Simons as a potential problem.

The last numbers finally staggered into the dining hall. Most of the Eagles were his now, along with a large part of Pumas and some Bears, too. Greg and the others had done a splendid job. They had mainly focused on courting the higher grades, leaving the more impressionable younger kids for later.

Only fifteen adults had been spared from the flu… for now, anyway. When he stood up to talk, a sea of young faces confronted him. The Eagles were at his back, Pumas in front of him on the right and Bears on the left. He looked for Dunn, who had gone back to sit with the boys he could often be seen associated with. That included little Matthew, his defiant friend Bob, and the man's two catamites, Sven and Anthony, who were close by. That suited Carl just fine. Walt was also sitting nearby with the small group of refugees, and Louise and Abrams were not far from them. Most of the prefects were sitting on his side with Greg, his gang, and other club members: Taylor, Shirley, joined by Tools and Rose Eldricht. He knew they would support him as the new headmaster, no matter what he said.

Finally, with all eyes directed at him and at the crescendo of everybody's anticipation, he stood up and asked for silence. He waited until all conversations had ended, which hadn't been very many. He knew the boys were bored of assemblies, more talks, bad news, useless regulations, and reiterations of the same things over and over again. This time though, he thought he would break that mold and catch their interest.

"Boys," he started, "you are our future, and now more than ever before, our world. The one we knew is gone. A new world is coming and it is up to you, now, to make it in your image. The flu, as you've been witness to, has killed and is still killing most of the adults. It is also killing most girls of all ages. Electricity, ways of communication, governments, for what we know, are gone. Ferals, outside our walls, are roaming the streets of our cities, killing more of the few remaining survivors. As you probably know, they killed Mister Wells yesterday while he was on a raid with Mister Dunn." A heavy silence fell after those words. "Miles, could you tell us what you have seen of the outside world?"

Miles did not expect it but he still stood up and answered Carl's request.

"What I have seen? Well… a deserted town where lost children wander in search of food and security, menaced by the ferals and with no adults in sight to take care of them. Burning houses…Abandoned cars…and the remnants of the National Guard that started fighting each other for no apparent reason while we were there. Mister Fisher is right boys, the world has changed and any hope to see a semblance of order come back is slim. It's up to us, this community, to make the best of it, if we can. Help those in need," he finished as he motioned towards the small group of refugees that were cluttered together.

Carl resumed his speech. Many of the younger boys and even some of the older ones had been shocked by the description. Some missed their families and hoped for better times, for a resolution of the crisis. Many were afraid, but they went on with the resilience of youth. They were used to being away from their families, with almost no more classes, few adults, and free time aplenty, and playing with real guns, they felt protected from the outside world. For some of them it was all a great game. For others, all of it came back to them at once; tears could be seen here and there. For Carl it was perfect. They had been moved, shaken. All he had to do was to reel in the line, bringing them to him.

"We need to unite and grow stronger or we will disappear. We have started to adapt, learning to use weapons and to watch out for each other. We have prepared, amassed food, gas, medicines, and all that could be of use, but it is far from enough." He paused letting his words settle in those young minds.

"If we want to survive we have to set hard rules; hard for us, and even harder ones for those on the outside. We have to set priorities." He ended his phrase with a gesture toward the small group of refugee children. He saw Dunn frown as he added, "from now on, we will not be able to welcome new refugees and treat them as if they were part of our community. We would soon be overwhelmed and without enough resources, we would endanger ourselves. We will welcome only those who can offer us what we do not have, or what can be of use to us. The others, I'm afraid, we will have to turn away. We will do it in a humane way, but we will have to do it. I do not forget that many of you are worried about your families. We have been trying to reach them since the beginning of this crisis and we are still doing it, using whatever means we have left. If they showed up at our gate they would, of course, be welcomed and adopted as full members of our community, Saint Xavier."

He then paused before continuing, "I repeat, we have to become one! One community! With one goal! Our survival and the welfare of its members, above all else!"

He paused again, and right on cue received applause and shouts of "Saint Xavier!" that soon became a chant. Greg, as usual, had done a good job, taking care to have some supporters in all groups so as it would not appear to be staged. Motioning for them to stop, he started again.

"Life from now on will be difficult and dangerous, uncertainty always present. No one can know for sure when the sickness will stop killing us. I may not be among those that will stand before you in the near future. My goal is to help you prepare to manage things by yourselves, if need be. I'll dedicate myself, like all of us still in positions of authority, to bringing this community to a satisfying level of autonomy and strength, and to establish the rules that will allow it to prosper." He raised his hand chanting "Saint Xavier," immediately joined by most of the faculty who stood with him, and then the boys themselves.

"As I told you, the world will never be quite the same, possibly for many years to come. One of the reasons for that, boys, one that will weigh heavily on you, is that women, even girls, are being wiped out. Even now, as I talk…they will become the most precious thing for us. Unfortunately, and the oldest ones among you will understand what it means, you will largely outnumber them. So I've come to a conclusion. In fact, Mister Dunn showed me the way."

Miles, surprised, wondered what was coming.

"You see," Carl explained, "seated beside him are Sven Lindquist and Anthony Reid. Two boys he took under his wing and with whom he has become very intimate."

A silence fell over the assembly, of which a large part started to show some discomfort. There were also some laughs, jibes. All eyes turned towards Miles and the two boys close to him. Both now looked decidedly embarrassed: their eyes downcast, their faces scarlet, and each fidgeting in their chairs, not daring to look around them. Probably not all had understood the innuendo, some questioning its meaning, but it was still quite clear for most.

That sneaky bastard! thought Miles. He was getting to know him. Fisher was a master of manipulation. He used everything at his disposal to get what he wanted, whatever the cost to others. For the first time, he felt anger towards the man. He had backed Miles into a corner with no easy way out. He wanted to react, but was at a loss for words. Punching the guy was an alternative, but that would make things very complicated right now.

"Yes, I know what you think, but you're wrong. What should we do? I reflected upon this very question for a long time and came to the same conclusion. Given the situation we are in, I do think it is the way to go, that it will become a necessity. Not only that, but like in ancient Greece, in Sparta, as you have been taught, warriors were stronger and more effective because of the ties that bound them. So, I will ask that all of the boys in the upper grades choose a younger boy to be his companion, a brother in arms, if you will, to teach, protect, and if so inclined, love him, as Mister Dunn has. Many of you are at an age when such needs are becoming inescapable. I find it better to make it a simple, natural, organized thing. You will have time to think it over, of course. All will be by mutual agreement. I have discussed it with some of you already; many have agreed and made their choices. Boys, teachers, call your companions!"

There was a clatter of chairs, with about fifty of the younger boys changing places and coming to stand beside a prefect, teacher or older boy. Miles saw Milo stand beside Greg, Cole beside Shirley, Riichi beside Tools, Alex beside Lewis, and many others whose names he did not know, stand beside Carl's clique.

Among the others in the assembly, there was more unease, surprise, shock. What was happening would have been inconceivable two weeks before. Dunn was angry, more for Sven and Anthony being exposed for Carl's benefit than for himself. He heard some whispers of faggots and sissies coming from behind them, and the two boys hunched their shoulders. The whispering stopped, however, as soon as he turned around.

He saw Cruise and one or two other teachers looking at each other, not yet willing to understand the full meaning of what had been said, and looking quite isolated. Like Dunn, Louise and Abrams saw that Carl was well supported. More than half the School was behind him, both literally and figuratively. Many had left their seats to be with the Eagles, and Carl faced who was left of the other Houses. Many of the students, who were not rallying and still seemed uncertain, appeared to be captivated by Carl's speech. Others, feeling outnumbered and isolated, decided to stay silent.

"Thank you, boys, fellow teachers, and staff for your approval." This time, Carl himself started the applause, and the round lasted a few minutes; very few refrained from participating.

"Hard times are coming and we will need all of you to make it through. We will form a small committee with Mister Tools, Miss Cahill, of course Mister Dunn, whose role has been, 'till now, essential, and myself. I have also thought it necessary, and just, that the students be represented and take an active role. You may be the only ones left in a few months. So I'll ask Misters Sutton, Seku, Collier, and Lewis to join us."

There was applause again.

"The committee will start work tomorrow and from now on will review and decide on the rules we will follow to ensure our survival and future. In a few days, I will again call an assembly to disclose these new rules to you and ask for your approval."

"One more thing," he continued, "discipline has been lax lately with many of you changing houses. Now that order is coming back, you will have to fill out a form so that we know where to find you, and from now on, I want you to declare any change to the prefect in charge in each house. And now, boys, I will ask you to stand up and end this assembly with the school hymn. We are one; one school, one family; we leave no one behind. We stand together, stronger than ever. Let me hear you!"

The boys started to sing with heart, and on cue after the hymn ended, there was more applause and then a short pause before dinner started. Carl had worked his magic: they were ready and would accept it all!

***

The dining hall was filled with the heated conversations of the boys. There was a lot to discuss. Miles was seated with what was left of the faculty, a demand of the old headmaster. He was often casting an eye at the other tables, trying to see how Anthony and Sven were doing. He had told them to pack their few possessions and come to Bear House after dinner; they would stay with him from then on so he could watch over them, notably for the next few days, which could be difficult.

Walt was seated there with them as well as William, Milo, and most of Dunn's Warriors. Matthew, Bob, and Johnny were seated at the next table with the refugees. He was trying to guess the attitude of the boys around them. Anthony and Sven were talking, mostly smiling. There was some laughter, and they appeared relaxed and natural, much better than during the assembly. Had they been mocked, ridiculed, called names? He could not say; some of that was due to happen, at least they were coping for now. He also wondered how his night spent with Matthew would be interpreted first by Bob, and then the others. Carl's revelations were sure to shed a new light on it. True, it would have come sooner or later. He knew it was inescapable, but he had mostly foreseen the positive aspects. He knew he would have to deal with it, but for now, his chief concerned was for the boys and any possible repercussions.

At the faculty table, it was tense and rather silent. The room was hot as air conditioning had become a thing of the past. The meal was quite satisfying, not very different from before. They still had some fresh food that should last for a few more weeks. Two generators had been permanently dedicated to food preservation and the freezers were safe.

"I hope I did not hurt your feelings, Miles," said Fisher with a slight smile, "I know it was a little unexpected, but I thought you were a relevant example to use. You are kind of a hero to our boys; it was the best angle of attack."

"It's not me that was hurt, but the boys," replied Miles, looking at him. His anger was now in check, he was reassessing his priorities.

"Don't worry, it will soon be forgotten. In a few days, it will be the norm, with no one noticing it anymore. You seemed a bit unsettled, Tom," Carl had sensed that it was not the time for a discussion with Miles and changed the conversation and his focus to Tom.

Tom Cruise was picking at his plate, not daring to meet anyone's gaze.

"Well…it…it is quite…a departure from the ethics we are supposed to uphold. It was… shocking, well, surprising."

"So you disagree? I am glad to hear you speak up." Cruise did not reply. "We all have to adapt. You will change your mind, you'll see. You will find some advantages to this new situation. All of you will… if you stay on the right side."

No one missed the implied menace.

"What are your plans exactly for the boys that we brought from town and the Conner boys?" interrupted Miles, wanting some answers.

"I propose we discuss it tomorrow, but you can rest assured they will fare better with us than outside. As I said, we will set new rules for those that may come to the school later. Perhaps they won't have to apply to those already here."

There appeared to be little room for ambiguity in Fisher's words.

"What troubles me is that you did not discuss that committee with me, and more importantly, its composition."

"It's only temporary," said Carl. "As you know, we are in a very precarious situation. No one knows what might happen over the next few days. Let's enjoy our meal, and later, our boys," he added, catching Cruise's gaze, and sending a glance toward Louise Simons, who had remained silent. "Let's leave that for tomorrow, and once again, we'll be sure your point of view is taken into account."

"Let's do that," concluded Miles.

Carl was quite satisfied. All had gone according to his plans. His call to the companions had had the desired effect. Greg and his buddies had done a perfect job, and with discretion. The game room, access to electricity, girls and boys, and many other things; promises that had worked well. He was sure that Dunn would eventually fall in line, happy to enjoy life and his boys.

Tom Cruise was not a threat and Louise Simons did not utter a word; she seemed indifferent. It was a good day, worth celebrating with little Enrico. He would also ask Greg to bring him Sean and young Cole, to add some spice to the night. There would be air conditioning, contrasting the heat of the sweltering dining hall. He would finally be able to get a good night's sleep with Enrico by his side; the heatwave had made it quite difficult for some time now.

***

Miles was going back to Bear House alone. At this time, after nine, the school was plunged into darkness and the only source of light was his flashlight. Only from time to time did he see some glow escaping an open window. He had made his first round and had discreetly set an appointment early the next morning with Louise. He was weary and wanted to leave all his worries aside and simply enjoy his boys company. But even on that level, there was some apprehension, and he had, perhaps unconsciously, delayed his return.

What would their reaction be of the assembly? Would his relation to them and others be tainted, broken? He had, in his short time here, developed some strong ties with some of them, notably Matthew, Walt, Johnny, Bob, Logan, and all of Dunn's Warriors, and beyond those even. He felt he was well liked until now. Did Carl's speech ruin all that? Would they now see him as a menace, a predator, as his kind was generally described? How had they treated Anthony and Sven after the dinner? Children were often cruel and had been taught to dislike differences: gay, faggot, sissy…all common insults. Things could not have changed that much over such a short period, whatever happened.

He felt relief at having been exposed by Carl, but at the same time, he felt as if it was all starting again in a new way, that his difference would always set him apart. Now Sven and Anthony had also been compromised and he was responsible. He wondered what this new life would be like without having to hide anymore. Many of his attitudes, behaviors, and energy had been dedicated to that task. What would become of the new Miles Dunn? Would he be a better man? Would he become another Carl Fisher going from boy to boy, using and then discarding them without remorse, without any real attachment?

He suddenly thought of leaving the school to find a quiet place where he could take Sven and Anthony – if they wished. Let Carl take the burden alone, take care of Saint Xavier without him; he so wanted to rule it all. Leave all responsibilities to his clique. No more need to feel guilty for the death of Wells or any other that was due to happen.

Upon arriving at his destination, he saw more lights and a group of kids, who, it seemed, were waiting for him. Sven was in the middle of the group, but came forward right away and embraced him openly, planting an affectionate kiss on his lips. Miles was too surprised to say anything.

"Isn't it great that we don't have to hide anymore?" said the boy with a huge smile. "I was waiting for you."

"Lovely welcome." answered Miles, returning the kiss. "And what are those boys doing here? They should not be outside at this hour," said Miles.

"We've been expecting you for some time now. They want to come to Bear House. There's William and a few others you might know."

Indeed, Miles recognized the senator's son and was also surprised to see the Muller boy from Eagle house. He was among the first kids he had interviewed after his arrival at the school, which seemed to have been ages ago. Then, there was his younger brother, the one named Patrick, if he remembered correctly, also Arthur Banks, the boy obsessed by the girls he had met at the mall, the Edward twins, and little Silvio, whom he had taken along on the horse ride; there were also a few more he did not know.

"And why do they want to join Bear House?" Miles was completely taken aback, not understanding what he was witnessing.

"William wanted to be with me, and Patrick, well… we've talked a bit while waiting for you, and he doesn't like Greg much either, or what's going on at Eagle House, so he brought back his little brother, too. For the others, I think it's pretty much the same thing. Plus, Dunn's Warriors has been getting noticed in the school, quite a few guys would like to join, or at least want to be where you are."

"But what about what Carl said at the assembly? Don't they worry about that? You know, about you, Anthony, and me?"

"We heard a few boys calling us names but I think most of 'em don't care. I think some kinda think it's cool. I even think some of 'em might envy us, like the younger ones. It seems like there's been lots of recruiting, some guys are like…being pressured to join Mister Fisher over at Eagle and Puma House. I think they wanna come here so they can be left alone."

Miles was totally amazed. It was too good to be true. There had to be a catch somewhere, a trap of some kind.

"What about Walt and the others from Bear House, how did it go?"

"Okay I guess, Walt found a place for me and Anthony, and William's gonna join us too. The only thing he didn't know is where you wanted to sleep."

So, it was that simple, thought Miles. Nothing extraordinary had happened. For these kids it was all natural. He could hardly believe it could be that simple.

"Why are they standing there? They can go in, there's plenty of room."

"Omar Seku doesn't want to let them in. He says that they have to go back to their own houses where they are registered. Only Anthony was able to slip in unnoticed, I told them to wait for you."

"You did well. I'll take care of it."

He was greeted by more smiles from the boys who seemed to have all brought bags with them. They clearly meant to stay. They all wanted to shake hands with him, which he did with pleasure as he learned some of their names: Mike Healy, Lukas Cooke, who seemed well acquainted despite the age difference, and David Seager, who was about twelve. Arthur was more reserved and seemed a bit lost, uneasy among the group.

"Go on in boys, I don't want anyone outside after dark."

Miles entered with them. Omar Seku was there on duty, his gun by his side. The much more friendly Melvin was also there, sharing the duty. He wore his usual haughty look. The common room had been somewhat transformed into a guard's room, facing the entrance.

"Why didn't you let those boys in?"

"Mister Fisher told us that from now on everyone had to register where they are and that any further changes would need to be approved."

"I understand, but why not apply that starting tomorrow? I think we have a school management committee meeting in the morning, which you'll be a part of. You should take initiative and start to think for yourself." Miles did not like the boy, but he did not want to antagonize him. Let him think he was the one that decided to let the group in.

"Since they're already here, perhaps we can register them. We've got quite a few empty rooms; would you do me this small favor?"

Being asked rather than ordered made all the difference for Omar, that and mentioning his status as a committee member. It fit well with his sense of importance.

"Of course, sir. I'll consider you to be the one who approved their move. Melvin, take their names and assign them to their rooms."

"Thank you, Seku. Can I call you Omar, since we are now both on that new committee?"

"My pleasure, sir."

"I'll go settle a bit, too. Let me know if there are any problems. I'll come by again when I do my second round." He was quite satisfied with the way he had handled the prefect. "Sven, lead the way."

The boy took him to Walt and his crew, with William and the twins following. Anthony was there with the Conner boys and the "warriors." Walt immediately took it upon himself to find a bed for all of the new arrivals. They had broken the walls between three bedrooms and the space could now comfortably accommodate many of them. A dim light came from four battery lamps, which had been distributed to all the occupied rooms. Here also, he was welcomed as usual.

To his surprise, nothing had really changed. After a few moments, he noticed that Sven had acquired a kind of hero status in the group, as well as Walt and Anthony to a lesser extent. They had gone on a raid and they had fought the ferals. Sven had killed two of them, showing his courage once again. Still, Miles sensed an uneasiness in the boy behind his smile. Was it what had been said at the assembly? Perhaps. Or could it have been from the aftermath of the previous day? Being confronted with danger and death, and having to kill, even an enemy, was a terrible experience; they would have to discuss it together at some point. He had done it many times with his men after a first confrontation. For the other boys, that kind of thing was still mostly considered an exciting game.

Johnny and two of the Conner boys were playing a board game. Matthew, Bob, and the third brother were playing cards, activities that were finding a second life now that electronic devices had all but ceased to function. The three Conner boys seemed well integrated and did not show any signs of the sadness from the previous days. The townies were still not mingling with the others; something he hoped would change soon. The Higson brothers were part of the lot too, talking with the excitable young Logan. The twins and William were becoming accustomed to their new surroundings.

There were other boys too, coming and going, exchanging a few words, asking to participate in a game or some other activity. The liberated space seemed a welcome invitation to everyone. He recognized the shy Ken Allender, the effeminate Louis Saville, Rolf, the boy with the German accent, Jeffrey Simms, who reminded Miles of Eddie Munster and who had also played the part of Simon in Lord of the flies, among them.

Again, he did not notice any difference in the boys' attitude towards him. Like each evening, Matthew had come to him, leaning his slight body against him in a sign of trust and affection. The only one that seemed distant, throwing frequent glances his way, was Bob. But he had always had that posture with him and most of the adults as though he distrusted them, or perhaps feared them. Miles certainly expected a few questions from him, and perhaps others. Bob had always been protective of Matthew and would definitely want to know what had transpired during the previous night.

For Miles, those last few days had been a roller coaster of contradictory emotions: one moment at peace and the next an invasion of anxiety, much more difficult to control than the stress of combat. He did not know when the next bout of uneasiness would strike but for the moment, he felt at ease surrounded by those boys, whom he considered more and more as "his boys," at least, those he was closest to. Those he was ready to give his life for.

"Will you sleep with me tonight? Like yesterday?" asked Matthew; he clearly didn't need any more excuses to make his demand. "I feel safe when you're close."

Miles caressed the boy's hair, the soft skin at the nape of his neck. "I would love to, but I think Sven and Anthony will have some precedence today. You heard what Mister Fisher said, right? Still, I won't be far, just on the other side of the corridor."

"They're lucky. Do you really like boys, like Mister Fisher said?"

The question was direct and brought the attention of everyone present.

"Yes, I do. I always have." The answer was honest, simple and came naturally.

"But what exactly do you do together?" inquired Matthew again, who finally felt free to show his interest.

"That we will discuss at another time, if you don't mind. Those are rather delicate matters, more fit to be discussed privately," tried Miles without success. All the boys were looking at him. Sven had a touch of red on his cheeks; Anthony, on the contrary, seemed quite at ease.

Bob showed a little smirk and moved closer to his friend.

"On the contrary," he said, "now is the time to explain that companion thing and what it means to us all… exactly. Matthew is playing the innocent, I showed him a lot already; he must have a good picture of what's going on."

As the only adult in the room, Miles was cornered.

"You did? Yes, in fact he told me already. Didn't you Matthew?' the boy acquiesced. "Okay then, what do you want to know?"

"We are all concerned by what the new headmaster said this evening. What can you tell us? In my opinion, that's the way Mister Fisher found to get into any boy's pants he fancies."

Bob definitely had a perceptive mind.

"Mister Fisher likes boys too!" exclaimed Matthew.

Miles jumped on the occasion to avoid a direct discussion of the more delicate subject of man and boy relations.

"You got it right Bob. Fisher has been getting into boys pants for quite a few years now. I understand that, with a few others, he created a club whose purpose was to enlist and provide boys. The companion thing, as you call it, is his way of making it official and acceptable by all."

"It makes it easier for you too, sir."

Miles was surprised by the intelligence, aplomb, and finesse expressed by that mere boy, not even twelve years old.

"Indeed, we certainly would not have had this conversation in other circumstances. In fact, I think that only a month ago, many of you would have already fled the room or called the police."

"That won't happen now, for sure," said Bob. Miles saw the boy relax and let down his defenses, perhaps for the first time. He sat beside Matthew, looking hopeful. "Perhaps you can protect us?"

"I think that might become necessary." Not all in the room could understand the references. Miles glanced at Anthony who was attentively following the conversation.

"Of course he'll protect us. He's been doing it since the beginning," said William.

"Personally, I rather like that idea of companions. Who wants to be mine?" Let on Walt, at that moment.

Almost immediately most boys had raised their hands or shouted their names and the tension that had slowly built, deflated.

"I won't!" cried out Johnny, "I've seen the size of his dick!" Then he blushed, realizing what he had said.

All those that understood burst out laughing, Walt, among them, was looking longingly at Sven.

"It's clear you're quite popular, Walt. What you said could be the right approach, each one of you should choose a companion that he knows and trusts."

"How many companions can I have?" Walt asked.

"I don't really know. It might be discussed tomorrow at the committee meeting; it seems I have two myself, now."

"Can I choose Bob?" said Matthew.

"I think it's meant to be an older and younger boy," said Bob, "I would like that, though."

"I can tell you a few you should avoid," added Anthony.

"Boys, I think it is too early to discuss that. I'll know more after the committee meeting tomorrow. I won't let anything bad happen to any of you, or see you forced into a relationship against your wishes. Anyway, that's enough of such matters for tonight. It's already time for my second inspection of the grounds, and it's getting late. Time you boys were all in bed."

There were some arguments, but in the end, they easily agreed.

Miles felt a sudden rush of relief. They knew nothing much had changed. There had been questions, of course, but no defiance, no fear. He was accepted for what he was, nothing more, and nothing less. It would take Miles some time to process it all and perhaps shed away his old self. He wondered again, what's to come of it? What would be this new self? He knew some traits could be worked on, improved, he also knew some were at his core. He had learned the hard way.

Miles took aside Sven and Anthony.

"I should be back in an hour. My room and bed will be too small for the three of us, I fear." He still had in the back of his mind the desire to enjoy the two boys together and wanted to test them. "You'll have to take turns 'till we agree on the best way of doing things. We could move to a bigger room. I don't want to be the one to decide for you."

"It will be Sven's turn this evening. I owe him that much," said Anthony. "But I'm always horny in the morning…"

"Join us when you wake up then. I'll see if I can manage the two of you."

"Seems like a great idea. What do you say Sven?"

"I wake up early. I'll go get Anthony and leave him with you, I don't mind, really."

Miles and Anthony exchanged an expression that showed they had shared the same desire for a threesome. It was probably too early for Sven. That would come later, perhaps.

Before Miles left, Anthony told him with a conniving smile, "Perhaps I'll be the first one awake." He knew well the desires of men, and also Sven was clearly very much to his taste…

When he came back from his rounds, Miles was tired. He was feeling the events of the last two days weighing heavily upon his shoulders. Yet, the thought that Sven was waiting for him and of their first night together was stronger than his weariness. He picked up his pace as he neared Bear House and gave a thumbs-up sign to Melvin, the prefect on guard duty, as he entered and went straight to his room.

The dorm was dark and silent. With a smile, he saw that a faint light showed under his door. He pushed it open and closed it behind him without a noise. Sven was lying naked on the bed, his upper body turned toward the door, the lower part flat on the bed, showing off his lovely curves. He was deeply asleep. Beside him on the bed was a tube of lube. Obviously, he wanted to please. It had been a long day for him also, full of stress and emotions.

Miles quietly undressed and went to lie by his side, gently caressing the soft skin and enjoying the feel of the firm flesh under it. Resting his hand a bit longer on the full ass and exploring the hidden hole with a finger, he found that the boy had already used the lube to prepare for his return. He delicately kissed the boy and kept roaming his hand on the offered body.

The boy did not wake up. Once again, Miles suddenly recalled that night in Afghanistan when he had spent the night with the bacha bazi, simply enjoying the contemplation of his naked beauty and its strong erotic power. He knew he could rouse the boy at any time, knowing all he could desire would be offered, and knowing the boy would still be there the next morning and the following ones. Despite a rock hard erection, to his own surprise he decided to try to find the same caring attitude he had the previous night, and not disturb the boy's deep slumber.

Although a lot of Mile's fantasies over these past several days had been concentrated on thoughts of penetrating the boy and feeling that vise grip on his shaft, he decided against it. Moving Sven gently to his side, he managed to insert his cock between the boy's thighs for an intercrural fuck. A few strokes were enough for his release, with the boy only slightly stirring. Five minutes later, he was peacefully sleeping with his arm across the boy's shoulders.

***

Carl thought it was a night to celebrate, and that's exactly what he did to his satisfaction.

For Carl it meant boys, beautiful, willing boys. Well, things had changed a bit lately. He thought quite often that unwilling boys could be of interest as well. That meant breaking a rule he had set himself and enforced repeatedly over the years. He did not have to fear parents or the law anymore. He did not have to fear rumors or recriminations either. He could be whomever he wanted and given a few days or weeks, he would have all he desired, unwilling boys included. He was sure of that. No need to manipulate, charm, or seduce, he would just take. And that's what he was doing right now. Cole was not willing; Cole didn't want to be there and didn't want to do what was asked of him. His initiation had been a failure. In other times, it would have been catastrophic; probably the end for Carl and the club, but now it was just an annoyance that could be easily dealt with in many ways.

It was Carl's second fucking of the boy. He had taken some Viagra to be sure he could service all the boys present. It was the first time he could have that many boys at once and for the whole night in his apartments. The first of many more if all went according to his plans.

He loved feeling the boy's tense muscles under him, his antagonism. He fucked him relentlessly with one hand over the boy's mouth to stifle his moans of pain.

He knew that what he was doing was wrong, stupid, and that it jeopardized his plans for the future. But helped by the few drinks he had taken, and the exhilaration of his recent success at the assembly, he had not been able to resist this sudden urge.

He had planned it quite differently at first, but it had been a bad idea from the start. He knew the boy had lost his father the day before and felt no more obligation to the club. Carl had first tried his usual ploys, trying to get him drunk, offering Sean's ass, who he had brought in for that purpose, and giving him all the advantages offered by Greg to those that joined their new and enlarged coterie. But it was not working. Even quite drunk, the boy remained stubborn and not at all charmed by Sean's assets or Greg's promises.

He had then felt a new kind of excitement. If the boy was not willing, then he would have to break him, like many others that would follow later.

He asked Greg to stay and share his pleasures as he made Cole undress and join the other two boys on the bed. He did not want to create any fuss yet, enjoying fully Sean and Enrico while Greg played with Cole, giving him more juice mixed with vodka, and limiting himself to some caresses, kissing and sucking, things the boy had already done and somewhat accepted. Cole was unresponsive, wanting only to leave, and despising Carl, Greg, and even the other two boys.

Carl had no clear idea of how to break the boy. He had never done it in a direct, open way. He also did not want the other boys to know about it. His position wasn't yet secure enough. He wanted the school to form a block where everyone felt needed, accepted, a part of the whole. Later he would deal with the few that did not conform to this ideal.

He almost thought of letting the boy go, telling him it had all been a mistake, that he was sorry, but there was a risk. Cole was a celebrated boy in the school; if he took a position against Carl, it could become a real problem. No, Carl had to teach him now who was the boss and how to behave. He felt it was a task he would love to accomplish, and also, it would be a test and a learning experience for himself.

After two hours of fun, he sent Greg and the two other boys to finish the night in the game room that had been set up on the same floor.

"Enrico's ass is out of bounds, I remind you. It is still mine only."

He had had two rather intense sessions with the boy, resulting in some pain towards the end. He was definitely getting careless. The boy was not a concern though. The youngster was afraid of his brother and he genuinely appeared to love the man's attention and ministrations, always asking for more.

As soon as they were gone, he turned his attention on Cole and his cock instantly became erect. From then on, he acted out of instinct, his first intention of simply giving Cole a lesson taken over by years of frustration and resentment. If the boy had not been in a more or less drunken stupor, he would have certainly been a problem for the man to handle. But in such a state, he could offer little resistance.

Carl turned him on his belly and entered him without any preparation, forcing himself to the hilt with one big shove and started a relentless fuck with the boy thrashing under him, a scream stuck in his throat due to the excess of pain.

"You–need–to–learn–your–lesson, boy! No one–says–NO–to Carl Fisher. Not anymore!

It lasted for a long time, until Carl fell upon the boy, exhausted. He had fucked the boy with all the bitterness and wrath accumulated in all those years of frustration and anger that the world had imposed on him. The boy at that moment was his outlet and it felt so good.

The boy was softly crying, but his tormentor didn't care. He wasn't himself anymore and in this state of mind, he loved it. He felt all powerful, the world soon at his feet. He was not even sweating; the fresh air coming from the air conditioning vent was a notable bonus.

Cole would be the first of many. It was a good choice. He was a strong willed boy, honed by his swimming trials and championships, but there were cracks too. He had been abandoned by his mother, sold off by his father, and now was alone in the world.

Carl turned the boy over, saw the defiance still there.

"Have you learned your lesson, Cole?"

"Yes." The voice was whispered, but the eyes still alive.

"I'm not quite sure. You did not say, SIR, as you should have. Let's try again. I think I am ready for a second round. Ah, Viagra!" And he raised the boys legs and plunged in the leaking orifice with all his weight and pounded for a good thirty minutes more. He felt something give and felt blood, but did not stop.

He truly wanted to hurt the boy, something that surprised even him. He had to stop the child's cries and moans, so he wrapped his hand around the boy's mouth. The boy, after some more feeble thrashing about, soon offered no more resistance, his very fit body worthless. It would seem to Carl that he had already achieved some of his goals this night. He was probably halfway there. He wanted to put some more nails in though.

The boy was still limp under him but had not passed out. He removed his hand and kissed him hard, licked at his tears.

"That's a good boy now. You've tasted the worst but with some goodwill, you could get the best yet. You still with me Cole?"

"Yes… sir"

"Good, I need you to do one more thing to show me your willingness." He let some time pass before going on, enjoying the boy's worried expression. His cock had slipped out of the boy's hole. He pointed at it.

"I think it needs some cleaning up. I want you to do it… with your mouth. Now!"

He immediately pushed the boy's head toward his groin. The boy resisted this time, pushing away, which was a good sign the job wasn't quite finished. There was a moment of hesitation, and then Cole pushed back again.

A measure of humiliation is required, thought Carl. He was now more than ever enjoying the performance on its varied levels and was getting erect again.

"Well, there are different ways to achieve what I want, seems you picked the hard one again."

He caught Cole by the hair and threw him to the ground then stood and went to his sex toys cupboard, trailing the boy by his hair behind him.

"Let me get the right accessory for what is to come next."

After rummaging a bit, he found what he was looking for. A ring gag used to avoid having your cock bitten while deep throating a boy.

"Exactly what we need, incredible all the stuff I bought and never used. But that will change now." He said to himself, excited at all the possibilities now opened to him, with his desires as the only limit. He was slightly dizzy from the idea as well as his current session with Cole, which had brought out his worst but also very pleasant instincts. At this moment, he felt ready to explore them all.

Cole, in a desperate attempt, and feeling Carl lost in his thoughts, tried to pull free of the man's grip and get away, but to no avail. The attempt only brought a smile to the man's face.

"I thought we were almost done for the night, but thanks to you, we will linger some more. The joy you are bringing me, boy! I'm learning so much! I should be thankful! Let's get back to business. You still got some cleaning to do… and more."

He picked a pair of manacles and pulled the boy back to the bed, fixing the manacles on one of the boy's wrists and one ankle. He then forced his mouth open and fixed the ring gag.

"There now, we can start again." He was rock hard and was as aggressive with the child's mouth as he had been with his ass, plunging in, down the boy's throat, making him gag and delighting in his spasms.

"Now, that's a good boy. Hope you get some of the taste, too. Use your tongue to wash it well."

It was too much for Cole who retched and regurgitated part of his stomach's content. Carl pulled out right away, not wanting the boy to drown in his vomit. He was glad he had put some protection sheets on the bed to avoid any stains from the boy's body fluids.

"What a mess, boy! I fear that it will be more work for you. Lick it up, all of it."

He seized the boy's neck and maintained his head in the spill until Cole started to do as ordered.

"Let's use your free hole 'till this one is available again." He added, taking position behind him and starting to fuck his bruised hole in earnest.

He felt the boy under him finally letting go. The sensation was physical, like feeling Cole's will literally leave his body, to become an empty shell, a puppet with its strings cut. Carl's own sense of power overcame him and brought a formidable orgasm. He pulled out his cock and presented it to the boy who, with his free hand, put it to his mouth to lick it clean.

"Be sure not to leave anything out. Then go wash your mouth and come back to bed. You're staying the night." He took off the manacles.

He had wanted Cole for the evening to add some spice and it had worked beyond his expectations. He would keep the boy close in the next few days to be sure and get a better grip on him, but he thought he had been largely successful.

He wanted to do that again as soon as possible. It came to him that he would certainly love to do it with little Matthew, but that was not to be… yet. He was too close to Dunn, and being Perry's son, the man had vowed to protect him. He would try again to get Dunn to trade him for other boys, or whatever he wanted, but still needed some caution there. There was no hurry, Dunn had Sven and Anthony to keep him occupied, the boy was untouched and would probably stay that way for the moment. Anthony was there to keep him well informed.

In the meantime, he could use some "refugee boys" for that purpose. They would be kept apart and shared with everyone once broken, constitute a small harem, a whorehouse. There would be one with girls too, for those interested. Another fantasy come true. He loved this coming new world.

He watched Cole come back from the bathroom on wobbly legs. The accumulated effects of alcohol, pain, and humiliation had taken their toll. He was but a shadow of himself, but a pretty shadow still. Carl had been careful not to leave marks.

All of a sudden, he was seized by nausea, horrified by what he had just done to the child and its possible consequences. What had been fantasies were becoming all too real. Did he want to follow that path? Did he want to be such a selfish monster? Had he molded Greg in his image?

What had been for many years a fight for survival, thanks to the flu crisis, was being transformed into a fight for power, more than that, for revenge. He had been all that time secretly afraid, watchful, insecure, now he wanted to be on top, with no one to tell him what was right or wrong. He would be the only one to decide that.

Still, he had mellowed some when Cole stood again beside him.

"Come here boy. You'll take Enrico's place for tonight, and I want you to sleep here with him and me from now on. You will be my second companion –catamite, I should say. Do you know the meaning of that word? Whatever, you'll fill the part perfectly. I am still hard just by looking at you. But it's too late for more play, maybe tomorrow morning."

Silent, his head lowered, defeated, Cole went to lie down beside the man.

Carl moved him on his side, facing away; he put the handcuffs on him, securing them around the bedpost and on each of the boy's wrists, and then checked his bruised, gaping, and bloody hole. He entered him gently, easily, careful not to hurt this time. The boy shuddered, terrified of what was to come.

"Don't worry, in a few days it will be back to normal and won't hurt anymore. I like to go to sleep this way, embedded in a boy's tight hole –though it's not so tight anymore tonight. That's what we do with Enrico. If you're a good boy and you behave I may share him with you, you would be the first, you lucky boy. Now that you're all alone in the world, I am your best chance at a better future, but for a price, as you've been learning. It is in your very best interest that you retain that lesson and thank me for it. Good night Cole."

He settled comfortably, his sex to the hilt in the boy's ass, one hand on the boy's cock.

He knew he had made a mistake, Cole was a Saint Xavier boy, what had occurred to him that night had to be kept a secret, at all cost.

Chapter 15

Miles woke up at first light, careful once again not to disturb the boy. He would be back in less than an hour and could enjoy all his assets for as long as he wished. He was quite pleased with himself for his behavior – or lack thereof – from the previous night; was he finally able to change the way he had acted for so many years? He had resisted the urge to awake Sven and take his pleasure. He knew that the boy had not liked his experience with anal sex and was not keen on trying it again, yet it was what Miles wanted the most, had dreamed of for days. Should he refrain from it and give Sven time to adapt?

He had Anthony and Carl's boys to satisfy that need.

Matthew's sleep in had also been devoid of any misbehavior. Now that he had access to what he had been denied all his life, without the stress and fear, perhaps he could experience a pacified sexual life with the boys he loved. It was a favorable harbinger of things to come.

It was not a complete change yet, though, he was very conscious of that, he still needed some outlet to his more aggressive sexual penchant. He had discovered the talents of young Alex Masseria, a lad of about twelve brought to him and recommended by Fisher himself the day before. The lad had none of Sven's reservations concerning anal sex and it had been clearly stated that he liked it rough; Miles had soon discovered he was his perfect match for casual sex and a very fit appetizer before lunch. He would certainly require his services often.

He left the house discreetly. Melvin was on guard duty again, which was preferable to Omar. Miles wanted to go unnoticed if possible. Louise was waiting for him in the Chapel and they had a lot to discuss.

When he entered, she was already there. Praying? She raised her head and smiled; it was a strange smile, a desperate smile. She had changed a lot since he had first seen her. Gone was the austere and severe schoolmistress. Alert and relaxed, dressed in hunting gear, knife and gun adorning her belt and with a rifle slung over her shoulder. He had seen her in action, too. How easily and efficiently she had fulfilled that role. He had to hear her story, and soon.

"So, Miles, what do we do?"

"That's what I came to discuss, Louise."

Despite her smile, Louise looked determined and her eyes were full of shadows, shadows of her past?

"I think we don't have too many options. I say, let's kill them all before it's too late."

Miles was stunned. He had thought of the very same thing once but had chased it from his mind right away. He would never have dared to talk of it so bluntly. Still he felt in his guts, she was right and that nothing good would come from Fisher's leadership.

"I can figure out why you could say that. Isn't it a bit premature? Perhaps a little extreme…" "You know how it will end. Carl follows only his own interests, he has no empathy and dark

schemes for the school, the more we wait the worse it will get. What do you think his intentions are concerning those poor refugees? What will be the fate of all our boys under his guidance?"

"I agree; that's one scenario worth discussing but there are many others. We need a strategy, then a plan. I can tell you I contemplated doing that, starting with that bastard Carl. I could have killed him with my bare hands last night at dinner. To be honest, it is the "all of them" that is questionable. If we go that route, where do we stop? Who do we choose to kill or let live? You never know where it will end."

"Carl, Greg, Shirley, it should be enough to discourage the others, to disband them. It's mainly Carl who is the problem. He is the leader, the mastermind. I know his kind; I had to deal with it a long time ago." She was definitely quite serious about it, ready to act immediately.

"True, but what will be the reaction of the School? It would become unmanageable." "Not an easy decision, but again, you know it will come to that sooner or later."

"Yes, there is a high probability. I know enough of military strategy and there's the saying: the best defense is a good offense. Still, so many things could happen. If we make a preemptive strike now, no one will understand it, we will be discredited and the school will be left without leadership. Better we wait some more. We've got to work on a scenario, and prepare for what might come after. I don't think chaos would be better for the boys than Carl would. The flu could do the job for us too."

"I wouldn't bet on that. Carl is a slippery bastard. It could also be one of us that catches it first, and again, I'm well concerned as a woman."

"In that case, let's say we make our move as soon as one of us shows the first symptoms. We can blame it on the flu; no one will see the move. And that leaves one of us to take charge of things. Still, we can't wish for something like that to happen either."

"Again, we have to find a way, take over the school, and turn the tables on him. Take his place, use some of his ploys."

"I honestly doubt it could work, as you've seen he has most of the prefects on his side. There would be a lot of opposition; very few would support an act of mutiny that came out of nowhere. We need a valuable motive to act."

"We are talking about killing people. The aftershock should help us. No one will dare oppose us."

"My experience in Iraq and Afghanistan tells me that it would be an impossible situation. The opposing force is too large and has strong ties. Once you start shooting, you never know when you'll be able to stop. A lot of those boys don't know me, but Carl has been a prominent figure here for years."

"So, you think it is without hope."

Miles could feel her rage, something very primal. It was the first time he felt it from her. Where did it come from? He had dealt with those feelings with his men after a setback, and after suffering casualties: the need for revenge. But rarely with such cold intensity as he was witnessing now. It was quite different from their conversation only a few days before. He had to convince her.

"Not at all, we'll try to delay him, gain time. We can hope that Carl will make enough mistakes to alienate a large part of the school, and that will give us the opportunity to build enough support on our side. Then we make our move. In which case, we could simply expel him and those closest to him, but we will need to have the majority of the school behind us. If it doesn't work that way, a last resort would be to take those who oppose him and leave the school. I didn't tell you that, thanks to Dr. Perry, I have a few fallback solutions. The only problem will be getting there."

"That's your plan B."

"Yes, I can accept a coup for a good cause and if it has a reasonable chance to succeed. I don't want to start a war inside the school. I don't want to have a bloodbath on my hands; I don't want to kill kids…again…"

"I see everyone has his or her red line they don't want to cross. I can understand that." She did not state her own. "How do we prepare?"

She had lost, and knew it. Now though, Miles wasn't certain she did accept it. He doubted she would act on her own and was grateful she had not mentioned or used his common sexual orientation with Carl. He hoped that it did not motive, even remotely, his current position.

"I'll see how the committee works, how far and how fast Carl plans his moves. We will build from that. Louise, I need you, the boys need you."

"I know that."

"Then there is one thing I would like you to do that would be a first step toward our aim, whatever the outcome."

"Which is?"

"Go back to the food depot and see what the situation is there. If we could get our hands on some of their stock or some vehicles… They had a lot of equipment there; machine guns, military equipment, ammunition, it could become a major asset in our struggle here, or in case we have to move. Again, be very careful, I don't want you to take any unnecessary risks. If you see there is an opportunity, you call me on the sat phone – I have a spare, and I'll come with help to secure what can be salvaged."

"Who would you bring?"

"I don't know yet. Probably Abrams and Walt, perhaps Cruise, my boys. Secrecy is of course crucial. Only those who participate will have knowledge of it, as few as possible and people who can hold their tongues, whom we can trust. It's a chance worth taking. What I hope is that the survivors of he fight will have left and the way will be clear. They couldn't have taken everything. If we move fast, it can be ours. I trust you to give me the information I need to evaluate how it can be done."

"I like it. In case of a confrontation it could make the difference without any blood spilled, none that we would regret, that is. No one would challenge us. I'll go within the next hour. I'll ride Luscent and go through the remote entrance to the north. No one will see me."

"Sounds good to me. Stay here, I'll go get the sat phone in my office, I'll be right back"

Ten minutes later, Miles was back at Bear House. Melvin was half-asleep and did not notice a thing.

***

Arthur was in a bad mood. The school had gone crazy, notably here at Eagle House. It was overcrowded. Boys from the other houses had joined their "companions," as they called them. Here, most prefects and those in the upper grades had already left. Some were kissing and making out everywhere. Well, it wasn't quite like that, in truth, but that's how it felt like for him. Frank Collier, his roommate who, to his surprise, had been nominated for the new committee, had brought a twelve-year- old Puma boy for the night and they had thrown him out to have sex, he supposed. Collier told him to go and fetch a boy for himself since there were plenty of available ones around.

Arthur had nothing against gays but that was definitely not his thing, and doing it with mere children was one more step he had some difficulty with. Well, true, he had done it with a fourteen-year- old once, but she was a girl. Girls: that was his second worry. Mr. Fisher had said girls were all dying and that they had to change their ways. He did not want to change. He could not replace them with boys; it was out of the question! He wanted girls, dreamed only of girls.

Carl Fisher was responsible for it, he was clearly the instigator, and he had prepared for it. He had started the fire with his stupid speech. In fact, come to think of it, things had been fishy at Eagle House for quite some time. He should have seen it coming. Even before the recent events and that flu thing, Greg and his bunch were

always together, mixing with the small kids, courting the prefects and upper grades, stopping their conversations when he got closer.

That was highly suspicious.

And what about that Dunn guy, he thought. A major in the army, a pedo, who, it seemed, had been fucking boys at the school since his arrival. The man must have took him for a fool when talking of his adventures with girls, girls with small dicks, in fact.

Since Eagle house was not for him anymore, he thought that at Bear House he would be away from the worst of it and find a place for himself with less promiscuity. When he had seen Dunn arrive and kiss that blond boy openly in front of everyone, he had understood it had been a bad idea and had decided this was not for him, either. Why not go sleep under the stars, he figured then. He could get away from it all and think things over.

The weather was perfectly fine for it and, looking at the stars, it would remind him of his time camping with his father. They shone like never before and the Milky Way could be seen in all its splendor; that was one of the few advantages of losing electricity and the artificial lights that came with it. Looking for a quiet spot, he passed the front of the chapel and suddenly changed his plans again. He entered, knowing the place well and where to find the materials to make a makeshift bed. After retrieving the necessary items, he chose one of the pews away from the entrance. He was sure to find the peace he was looking for here, and was asleep within minutes.

A few hours later, a dream with the sweet Lucy was interrupted by a very real conversation going on near the altar.

A dim light bathed the chapel. He knew it must be very early in the morning and wondered who could be having a conversation at this hour and in this place. He raised his head to have a peek and saw Miss Simons and Dunn in a heated and very serious discussion. As soon as he grasped what and whom they were talking about, he made sure not to be seen or heard.

Thirty minutes later, he was sitting on a bench trying to review and sort out all that had been said. He had missed the start of the conversation but had soon been stunned by its content and the protagonists. What was Miss Simons doing with Dunn? Many of the things he had heard did not make sense, but much also rang true.

He needed time. He needed to check a few things. The one thing he had understood was that it was getting deadly serious and some hard decisions were coming for him. Should he warn Mr. Fisher or should he side with Miss Simons? He knew she was strict, but also just and to be trusted. How could she ally herself with that pedo, Dunn? Of course, in such situations you did not always choose your friends. Dunn had useful talents, as he had already shown. Truth be said, he was also rather likable, considerate and easy going, but he was still a disgusting pedo. At least, Carl had presented him as such. Had he lied? Arthur had never liked that teacher and now less than ever.

He was in an impossible situation. Perhaps the best would be to do as if nothing had happened: he had heard nothing, he knew nothing. Anyway, he was on guard duty at the main gate the following morning, and he would have the whole day to consider the pros and cons and every option open to him. Perhaps he could ask one of his buddies. Well no, that was too sensitive. Just ask them what they thought of Carl's speech, of that companion thing. That should be the topic of everyone's discussions today, anyway. It had already begun at dinner.

Arthur was obviously in the minority. Most of the other students had applauded with enthusiasm and those who thought like him had not dared say a word against Fisher and his shameful ideas. He would also have to find a house to stay in. Puma? Or would he be forced to choose which side he wanted to be on? He would go to Eagle House first to see what was going on there; he needed to have his temperature checked anyway if that thermometer still worked, that is. It had not the day before and it could not be returned to the store anymore.

Dilemma: that word had taken on a new meaning for him that morning.

***

When Miles came back it was not yet seven. Sven was still asleep in the exact same position he had left him in, an adorable, slightly curved erection well on show. Miles undressed quickly and joined him on the bed, his own erection well engorged and ready for action. It would take his thoughts away from the difficult decisions to come.

He gently awoke Sven and after the boy went for a much needed pee, they immediately started to make out, without a word exchanged, their mouths and tongues at work with each other. They were in a tight embrace when Anthony pushed the door ajar and asked, "Can I join you?"

Miles, who had secretly hoped for just that, was all for it. Maybe his fantasy of loving and having sex with both boys together was at hand. He threw a questioning look at Sven, hoping for the boy to acquiesce. Not able to read his expression he said, "What do you think?"

"Okay," murmured the boy, clearly unsure of himself. "Don't want to impose myself," said the boy still at the door.

"Come on, join us. We won't leave you out," decided Miles, who didn't want to miss such an occasion whatever happened next with the two of them or not. He had shown the previous night that he could control his desires, but he wasn't going to become a perfect partner for the boys just yet, he still had a long way to go. He knew that.

Right away, Anthony took off his only garment: a long sleeveless tee shirt, and let it fall to the ground as he joined them in the small bed.

"Wow," he exclaimed, "that's a tight fit."

"It's not the only one," added Miles as he stroked Sven's ass. He regretted saying it as soon as the words had left his mouth, fearing their effect on the boy. Yes, he wasn't the perfect guy yet.

"Yes I know, he told me yesterday. Are you sure the bed can hold all three of us?" The question seemed to worry him.

"We'll know soon enough," answered Sven, apparently finally taking some pleasure from the situation.

"How do we proceed? This is a first for me," Miles wondered aloud, thrilled by the possibilities. Anthony took charge of the operation at once, proud to be the most knowledgeable of the three.

"I propose that I fuck Sven first, to loosen and stretch him for you, Mister Dunn. He can suck you at the same time… he does that, doesn't he? Then you fuck me and have us both on your dick, so to speak, and we will see from there…"

Miles was speechless for a short moment. The boy was definitely and openly very bold and experienced.

He looked at Sven, fearing that the whole setting was too much and moving too fast for him.

But at the same time, his excitement and desire were too great to go back.

"Let's do it that way," Sven simply stated, picking up the lube beside the bed and giving it to Anthony. "What position should I take?"

Miles kissed him delicately and found the strength to ask, one last time, "You sure you want to do it, Sven? You remember what I told you? You can say no at any time."

Those words did cost Miles, but they came to him naturally. In the past, he wouldn't have cared if he hurt the boy or not. The pleasure that he had once sought was for himself only. It was different now; he had feelings for these boys, feelings that were still foreign to him, feelings he could not describe. It was not love perhaps, but something very similar.

"Sure do," was the boy's final answer, and he immediately took hold of the man's erection while getting on all fours and presenting his hole to a very pleased Anthony.

"You sure got a pretty ass, Sven. Paired with your pretty face and other merits, I see why Thorvald wanted it."

"Thorvald?" Miles had just enough time to utter the name before he felt the boy's lips closing over his glans. He then barely heard Anthony's answer.

"Got a lot to tell you…Miles…But right now there's much better things to do."

He expertly started to lube the slightly younger boy's hole, working one, then two fingers in and out.

"You're sure tight. But nothing that some good work can't fix. Don't worry." Sven winced a bit but did not complain.

Miles was comfortably seated, his back against the pillows, Sven's mouth at work on his groin, his body exposed to the man's caresses. A smiling Anthony prepared to enter the well-lubed hole, moving forwards and offering his lips for a kiss.

The man knew he would not last long, but he was confident they had time for at least one more round. He was still young and never had his excitement reached this level. He hoped none of the other kids would have the idea of an early visit and barge into the room. He gave a sidelong glance at the door.

"Don't worry, I locked it," said the perceptive Anthony between kisses.

The two boys and the man on the narrow bed were each addressing this situation differently. Anthony was very much enjoying himself, Sven was truly tight, and the sensations were strong.

He liked the sex, of course. But here and now there was something more. Not love, no, that was still a mysterious notion – rather confidence and trust. Two things the boy had missed for many years and found somewhat in the club until Greg had shattered it all. It went deeper also: they had bonded during the previous days while facing the ferals. He had made his choice and knew who he was going to side with.

Sven was no expert but did his best, trying to take as much of the man's meat as he could while being careful not to hurt him with his teeth. Anthony's thrusts were distracting and slightly unpleasant, but nothing like his previous experience. Would he ever learn to get pleasure this way?

Miles was in the middle of an impossible fantasy that was very much for real as he felt his first orgasm coming, and it was a strong one. He wanted to cum in the boy's mouth but could not force himself on the boy.

"I'm cumming Sven, pull back!"

The boy did, but just a second too late. Some of the first spurt found its way in and leaked out of the corner of his mouth.

"You okay, Sven? I must say you look adorable like that. How does it taste?"

"Not the best thing I've tasted, but not much different from your precum," Sven answered with a smirk, feeling rather proud of himself.

Miles collected some of the leaking cum with his finger and asked, "want some more?"

"Not right now, thanks."

"And what about me?" Some of it had found its way onto Anthony's face and torso, and he was greedily trying to get at it with his tongue. The scene of the boy straining to reach the cum with his tongue like an eager puppy dog struck Miles as comical, and he let out a short but quiet laugh.

"You truly are a little sex maniac, Anthony. Take it if you want."

The boy gobbled the offered finger and sucked on it some before releasing it. "Great taste. You don't know what you're missing, Sven!"

"I leave you my share Anthony, no problem."

"Thanks buddy. I love your ass. It's real tight, could go on like that for hours." "Youth!" exclaimed Miles, "I'll need a few minutes to be ready for the second round." "Might be faster than that, I see it stirring already. You should get me ready for it." "You may be right Anthony. This time I should last much longer."

"Good, you got two of us to take care of, you know."

Without disengaging himself, he turned around, moving Sven along to present his lovely behind, Miles, after some appreciation of the warm cheeks and thighs, went to work. It was easy and pleasant. When he was done to his satisfaction, no more delay was needed. His member reared its head, willing to pierce the welcoming orifice.

He embraced both boys in his arms and pulled them into his lap, aligning himself with his target. Anthony used one hand to help secure an easy entry.

"Oh god, what dreams are made of!"

Miles was in total bliss, eyes half closed, the weight and feel of the two boys well balanced on his lap. He started to pump; kissing one and then the other; his hands all over their tender bodies. It lasted for quite some time. After a few minutes, the combined weight of the two boys took its toll. He had to bring them forward, and climbing on top of them, took care to avoid his weight crushing them. After some more shifting around, the rhythm of his fucking resumed, with more powerful thrusts. His mouth was at work all over them; kneading the offered flesh; delighting in Sven's expressions when the boy came again. It went on until Anthony had a second orgasm. The flexing of his inner muscles brought Miles to his second orgasm as well.

Anthony, always considerate with his partners, had taken good care of Sven and given him three dry cums with his expert hand, since it seemed he could not elicit the same pleasure with his cock.

They all fell on top of each other with the strong man, who still held them in a tight embrace.

A few minutes passed before they disentangled themselves.

"What next?" asked Miles, "have you had enough?"

"Never!" answered Anthony," I only came once. I'm way behind and I think Sven has never been more ready for you."

"Are you up for it Sven? "Definitely. I want it, even if it hurts a bit."

"If you're sure; but we will go slow

and please tell me if you want me to stop."

Always ready to help and ever full of ideas, Anthony came up with the following proposition.

"Let's do it this way; Sven and I will lie on our sides and "sixty-nine," and you can take him that way, so he won't have to put up with your weight. Then, you can both have a go at me while you fuck him."

"Sounds good, let's try it."

They shifted positions, all still full of energy and enthusiasm.

Entry for Miles was still a struggle. Sven was on his right side and the man had fully raised the boy's left leg to better expose his anus, jewels, and stick. He enjoyed the feel of the skin of the child's inner thighs under his hand while Anthony's mouth went to work on the boy's hard cocklet, and he used his hands in the available space to participate in stimulating Miles, his goal being to help him in his slow penetration. The boy's preparation had had some effect but did not make it effortless or painless. Sven did not ask to stop, though, and Miles kept on pushing, gaining ground. He did not relent despite Sven's obvious pain, again finding a strange and guilty pleasure in the willingness of the boy, the tightness of the hole and of the boy's pain itself. His old self was beginning to peek through, but this time he kept it in check.

After a few minutes he was able to start moving forward and backward, amplifying the movement with each thrust and establishing a good rhythm. He refrained, though, from speeding up the fuck as he would have liked. He was soon free to service Anthony and bring him to orgasm.

Sven was tense but willing, licking Anthony's balls. He knew that Miles had seen a small tear appear at the corner of his eye. There had been pain, there was still some, but there was also pleasure and there was love. Of that, he was quite certain, on his part at least, and that was worth it all. He felt safe; he felt better than ever before in his short life and he wanted it to last forever.

Miles also didn't want it to end any time soon. While he knew Sven was in some pain at that very moment, the exquisite feelings that coursed through his body were incredible. What had happened in the last few days was improbable. He would never have thought it possible. Did he love these boys? He did not really know. He cared for them, for sure. Was it only because they were satisfying his desires? He didn't want to think it was so.

Sven's accepted discomfort brought him mixed feelings. It enhanced his passion but brought back fear and shame. His change was not yet complete then; otherwise, he would have pulled out long ago. There was still a large dose of selfishness in this relation; was it in one way or another the boy's pain that made it so special? He was afraid so. Either way, right now it was irrelevant. All he wanted was for this moment to last a long, long time, and forget everything else.

But of course with one deeper thrust he finally came, and it was spectacular. He could never say if this had been the best of his life, but it was certainly close. He flooded the boy when he thought it could not be possible for a third round in such a short time. It was grand.

It was ten after eight in the morning, it was hot, and light was flooding in from the window. Fortunately, the cot was still standing. They had been too focused on their lovemaking to hear the seven-thirty bell, but no one really cared about it anyway. It was heaven.

***

Bob was troubled. Since witnessing Mike and Lukas having sex in the stables, he had been obsessed by those images. It was the first time he had been confronted with the real thing, and where people he knew were involved. He became stiff every time he thought about it. He had thought that he already knew all about it, at least almost all, but seeing it with his eyes and being face-to-face with the real thing had stirred up strange feelings inside him.

He had been warned again and again by his parents and at church that it was wrong to have such thoughts, that it was evil. That he must stay away from it. He had listened but, like most kids, never really considered it. He had not felt all that concerned about it back then. Sex was in many conversations at school and soon, without even wanting to, he had been exposed to a great deal of information about it, more than he knew existed, and had even been shown some porn. But he had gone along with it just to fit in and not to be left out. He soon realized that he knew a lot, obviously much more than Matthew did. It was nothing compared to the real thing: the images, the sounds, and the smells of that day at the barn kept coming back, reinforced by their second encounter, this time not by chance but on purpose.

He did not know exactly what it was. Was it the boys or the act itself that made him react this way? Was he like Anthony and Sven? He had provoked Mr. Dunn the day before, looking for answers about himself, first and foremost. He had suspected for a long time that Greg and his gang had an interest in boys, younger boys, and he never cared much for Mr. Fisher, either. On that point, he had listened to his parents' lessons, but Mr. Dunn had surprised him. He seemed to have a genuine interest in his new friend Matthew. Learning he was gay had been a setback, but was he himself like them?

It was boys doing it that had started it all, not girls. True, it could not be so since there were none at Saint Xavier. To know if the effect would be the same he would have to meet one, but that was impossible. He had decided to watch some porn again, to see what it did to him. Many of the older boys knew how to access it and soon he was able to learn their tricks; he could even find it alone. Now it was all useless since most electronic devices were useless. Was there still an internet? He had to find a solution; he was losing control and he hated that. That's what he liked in soccer, that he had control. It was just him and the ball; the other players did not really count. Until he met Matthew, of course, but that was something totally different.

He had seen Anthony get up this morning and had followed him, listening to the voices, sounds, and moans on the other side of the door for a long time with his hand in his shorts. He had been almost surprised when William got up to go to the toilet. Bob pretended as though he had been coming back from there himself. But once back in the bedroom, all he thought about was getting back to Mr. Dunn's door to listen again and imagine what was taking place behind it. He had one of his best wanks but felt guilty afterwards. He had tried to think of girls, movie stars, the women he had seen in those porn videos, but his thoughts invariably brought him back to that scene in the barn. He was obsessed with it.

It had to stop. He had to know, one way or the other. But who could he trust? Matthew of course, but that was out of the question. He didn't want to risk their friendship and the boy would be of little help.

Mr. Dunn? Well, that was perhaps too much. He just wanted to experiment, see how it worked. He did not trust the man enough; he could take advantage of the situation, which is what those kinds of people usually did…didn't they? At least that's what he had learned from his parents and everybody else.

There was Walt, the Good Samaritan, who was always there to help. Only he wasn't gay. Still, was it really that important anymore? He could ask if Walt wanted him as a companion and go from there. Yes, that was a valid option.

Then there was Anthony. He did not know him well. He was part of that club it seemed, which meant that he was close to Mr. Fisher and Greg…not possible.

Who else? Sven? He didn't know if it would work with him.

He thought about it again. There was one person that would be perfect, Miss Cahill! Yes, of course! He should have thought of her right away. As a nurse, she

would know, and she could tell him what he should do. He could confide in her without risk since she had to keep it secret. And she was a "girl" of that he was quite sure and now that he thought about it, there were rumors that she liked boys. He had never really listened to them, what for? Still, he knew they existed. He had to think how to tell her, and it would not be that easy for him. He never had much contact with her. He certainly would find the words, she would help him, and perhaps it would go further than that and he would have his answer. It seemed his cocklet was stirring again…or was it wishful thinking?

He would go see her after breakfast. He felt relieved and decided to try to get some more sleep.

***

While Miles was in boy heaven, Louise was in her own heaven; the world of nature surrounded by a dense forest, alone with her horse. Humans were complicated, dangerous creatures. They brought emotions she had some difficulty in processing. Here it was peace and quiet. Here she did not feel threatened. She would soon leave the cover of trees and be in sight of her objective. She was curious to see how things had evolved since their escape two days before.

Five minutes later, she was looking through her binoculars at the depot.

Only two of the armored vehicles were still there, one with the machine gun still in place. She could see no one around, at least, no one alive. There were two bodies lying on the ground, and lots of blood, which meant there had been more casualties. She could detect no movement or sound; the place seemed deserted. She waited for fifteen minutes and scanned the whole area before fetching her horse and making her move. There was no other way to approach the entrance but in the open. She knew she would be vulnerable for about five long minutes, but she had no choice.

There was no hesitation, she spurred her mount forward, and Luscent responded with her natural grace and confidence. It was a short distance but it was like slow motion getting there.

The glass doors were shattered, two more bodies wearing uniforms lying behind them. Her rifle at the ready, Louise entered cautiously. The place had been trashed. It smelled of smoke and burnt wood, and there was debris everywhere. They had used grenades, obviously. For what purpose, she didn't know. It was madness. More bodies could be seen here and there; all wore uniforms. What had been the mechanics of it all would remain a mystery.

She was looking at the ground. She was a hunter and could gather reams of information from the traces to be found there. It was even much easier here than in the forest. She could see where bodies had been dragged and where people had gone in and out. The spilled blood helped a lot with her analyses. She relaxed a bit as most of it indicated people leaving the place.

She focused on two sets of tracks. Those were different, unexpected.

One showed small feet and she guessed some kind of sneakers, which would belong to a kid. The others were those of an animal, the paws of a dog, a boy and his dog somewhere in the depot. She went on for a few paces until she was sure that two other sets of tracks where following them: army boots. They were all rather recent. She raised her head, watching and listening for any sign ahead.

Nothing. There was little light because the electricity was gone. The light was coming from two large canopies on each side of the entrance and at the back quite far away. With her hunting instincts at full capacity, she moved forward, one-step at a time, silent.

After a few minutes, she heard a low growling coming from her right, and with a few more steps, she was upon them. There was one man lying in the alley, his throat ripped away. Blood had splattered the cereal boxes beside him. A second man, also in uniform, was sprawled facedown against the ground. A knife was sticking out of his mouth. A young boy, about twelve, was seated in front of the body with his back against a display stand. His arm was around the dog, fingers clutching at its fur. He was softly panting, his eyes half closed. There was a large wound across his abdomen, and his intestines seemed ready to spill out. The pool of blood in his lap suggested that he had lost a lot of it and was probably near death. He had been wounded; and had been lying there for a longer time than she had first thought. The bodies by his feet were cold, their guns lying on the ground. He was dying.

Louise lowered her gun and went to her knees in front of him. The dog, a golden retriever, had stopped growling and was licking at his wound. He was a beautiful boy, dark hair and clear skin, chiseled features, steel blue eyes, graceful limbs. He tried to look at her and his mouth began to move silently as though attempting to talk, but he was gone within a minute, his pupils fixed and dilated, and his eyes glazed over. The dog emitted a plaintive wail, and then was silent as it laid its head on the boy's bloody lap.

"I'm sorry, I've come too late. You fought well, young warrior," said Louise as she kindly closed his eyes. "I don't even know your name. And what about you, dog? You've got a name too, don't you? Do you want to stay with your master, or do you want to come with me?"

She stood up and called, "Dog!" It reared its head but did not move. "You coming?" She took a few steps back, stopped, then a few more. The dog watched attentively. She was about to turn down the next alley and lose sight of it, when the dog gave its master a final lick, raised himself up, and joined her.

"Good dog, I know a place where you're sure to find a new young master. I'll take you there."

She did a perfunctory tour of the place with the dog by her side, while she made sure she was alone in the depot. It was eight-fifty in the morning. Miles' committee meeting was set for nine-thirty. She called him on the sat phone, and then she got to work. She would be alone at least for a few hours, better to use that time usefully.

After getting her horse inside and secured, she started gathering as many weapons and as much leftover ammunition laying around as she could. She did not wander too far from the entrance; she wanted to be able to spot any visitors coming, whether welcome or undesirable. Every fifteen or twenty minutes, she scanned the outside area for any movement with her binoculars.

***

Dunn had been late by a good thirty minutes. Abe Taylor, the cook, had shown the first symptoms in the morning and had been less than willing to join the sick at the gymnasium. It was a frequent occurrence now and quite logical. They all knew what it meant to be taken there. It was up to Dunn to resolve the situation. The prefects in charge were not yet ready to face such contingencies, although Abrams was always there to help. The sick numbered less these last days but only because there were not very many adults left. Along with him came two fifteen-year-old boys who had started to cough during the night and now had a fever.

With Louise away and himself occupied with the committee, the training had been delegated to a handful of the best recruits who had been carefully selected. Their task would mainly be to supervise the exercises prescribed by Louise and Miles until they were well integrated. The adults would step in again later with the task to bring the boys to the next level. He thought their absence of a few hours would be of no consequence.

Before leaving the boys, Miles had taken the time to listen to Anthony. The boy had just told him that to his knowledge, apart from Tools, all those present at the committee meeting would be club members and on Carl's side, it was not a surprise for the marine who was well aware now of Fisher's ways.

"Sorry for being late," Miles excused himself as he entered the meeting, "I had to escort Mr. Taylor to the gymnasium, and check that the ongoing training of our students was being well cared for."

Carl frowned and looking somewhat shaken, glanced around at the other committee members. "Abe Taylor?"

"Yes, sorry about the bad news."

"Thank you, Miles. He has been with the school for many years and it will be a great loss. Take a seat; we've started without you, but have only discussed menial things until now. Did you get the agenda I set for the meeting?"

"No, I'm afraid I've missed it."

"Here, take one." Fisher said as he handed Miles a printed note.

Miles scanned it; there were nine items: Resources, Health, Security, Training, Companions, Rewards, Refugees, Studies, and Development.

"There will be more items to add later; these were the most urgent that needed quick answers. This first meeting is more of a way to become acquainted and to distribute tasks, than anything else. There is so much to achieve. We have already discussed health; Shirley will be given that task with Lewis, as well as resources. The next two are obviously yours to take charge of. Which one of the boys will you choose to second you?"

The committee was all Carl's. As Miles went from face to face, he realized his choice was perfunctory. Collier, he did not know, and Greg was out of the question. Lewis would have been his first selection but Seku was probably the best choice, the one he had had the most contact with and probably the most gullible, thanks to his overbearing self-importance, which could prove useful.

"I'll take Seku to work with me; being a Bear boy, it is more practical. I know that he is reliable, and we seem to get along fine." He smiled at Omar. Compliments seemed to work with that one, and that's what he would give, as often as possible.

"Thank you sir," said the boy, quite pleased by his words. Miles saw Carl smile. He had seen the move.

"If no one disagrees I'll take the companions issue; it was my idea, after all, and needs to be better implemented. Collier will be my second." There was a pause. "Next comes rewards. I think it goes well with companions so we will take charge of that as well. This leaves the refugee question. As well as studies and development, Tools and Greg, it seems that these will be your tasks. The remaining two will need the input of everyone. For now, I think you two again will just need to give us a few directions to follow. I'll give you a hand; we need to put our boys back in classes and use our library as their new teacher. Only by learning shall we rise above the others."

On that, Miles agreed with Fisher, but he had a good reason to interject.

"I think I should have a say in the matter of refugees as well. All that concerns outsiders or raids is right up my alley."

The idea of Greg being in charge of the refugees was a serious concern to him, and Tools he wasn't sure about. The man seemed to have transformed radically since the play. Miles had heard rumors of him having abrupt mood changes recently.

"You're right Miles, but all of those issues overlap. We are here to appoint each of us to a special task. It will change over time as our needs and functions are better defined. It's only a starting point; I propose we meet again in three days' time. Each of us can prepare a note stating his needs, recommendations, and a schedule on how it is possible to get there. Any questions?"

"At Bear House, some boys were upset by having to choose a companion and others wanted to know how many they could have."

"Well you have two Miles; I have Enrico and added Cole for myself this very night. Two seems like a good number. One would be better if we want them to develop strong ties, but that would leave many out of the system. I'll work on the details over the next few days. I want as many boys in the system as possible, which doesn't mean they have to conform to our fancies, even if I will strongly support the idea. I maintain that there is no obligation and that they have some time to make their choice, if any. That should quiet any worries they may have. Most of the formed companions flocked to Eagle House last night and it has become overcrowded. We will need to redistribute them into the other houses today. I don't think there have been any incidents, at least, none that have been reported. Once the others see the advantages and pleasures to be had from up close, they will adopt our views and make their choices too. I'll try to think of incentives to help."

"Cole was mine, I thought?" interrupted Shirley.

"Yes, I'm sorry. I'll try to explain why it has to be this way later." Carl obviously did not want to develop the subject now, and so he went on, "While working on my speech I had to think of all of these issues, so I already have quite a few ideas we could use. Do not hesitate to consult with me. Boys, you are young, but your point of view is as valuable and precious as ours, so don't be shy. Feel free to speak your minds, we will listen," he added, addressing the prefects who had remained silent so far.

"In case of a disagreement, how do we proceed?" inquired Miles. "Good point. We simply vote. I don't see any other way to do it." "And in case of a tie? There are eight of us."

"That's unlikely," came Carl's smug response. Inwardly he was thinking, Miles must know I stacked the committee in my favor; a tie breaking vote will never be needed.

"I propose in the case of a tie, that you get two votes as our school security officer. We want to take security very seriously during these harsh times."

Another smirk on Carl's face let Miles know he was being played with yet again. Anger started to well up, but Miles quickly put it in check. Now was not the time to engage Carl, he had other plans taking shape. Miles would pick the time and place.

"All those in favor raise your hand."

It was unanimous, and Tools announced, "Motion passed." "Tools will be the committee recorder… I forgot to tell you."

Miles nodded towards Carl, not wanting to raise any suspicions at this time. He wanted to keep Carl believing that he would always fall in line like the others.

"Thank you for the responsibility, I accept," said Miles, returning Carl's smile.

For the next thirty minutes, they discussed current operating issues, without any real contentions.

"Anything else?"

No one spoke, and Carl continued, "Well then, get to work. We will meet again at the same time three days from now. Have a pleasant remainder of the day."

***

As soon as they were done, Miles first task was to get rid of Omar Seku.

"Omar, I want you to make a list of all prefects and senior boys and put on it as many details as you can. I need to know who I can trust and in what capacity. The list will be essential for security duties and I trust you to do a good job. Ask other prefects for their own opinions of those you do not know personally or are unsure of. Without this list, all the work to come could be useless. I'm sure you can do it."

"When do you need it?"

"This evening before dinner. I know it's a tight schedule, but I'm sure it can be done."

Let's put some pressure on the boy, thought Miles.

"I can do it, easily. I know them all. I'll start right away."

"You can use my office…here," Miles said, as he produced his key from his pocket, removed it from his key ring, and handed it to Omar. "Ask Rose…er, Missus Eldritch, if you need anything. Have another student run your errands."

"Yes sir," Omar said, and with that, he was gone. Miles would have him well occupied for some time and the list could prove quite useful in the very near future.

Anthony and Sven had been waiting close by with the sat phone.

"Sven, fetch Abrams and Walt. We will leave as soon as possible. Everyone will meet at the stables, but first they should show themselves for lunch. We can't all do a disappearing act or it will bring attention to us." He watched Sven run off, and then turned to Anthony, "I'll need to hear your whole story. I'm betting a lot on you, trusting you, that's a big responsibility for the two of us."

"You can trust me, and you won't regret it. Don't forget, for Carl and the others I am still on their side. I can be your spy."

"That's a difficult role to play, Anthony. I don't want to endanger you. You will do as I tell you, nothing more."

"Yes sir," replied the boy, giving a salute. It still seemed like a game to Anthony, whereas for Dunn, it was potentially deadly. He had to be sure that Anthony got the message.

"Anthony, this is no game.

Things have changed; nothing is the same. You saw the ferals outside and they almost got you. It's the same here. If they discover what you're doing, what we are planning, it could very well end in the same manner. I don't know who is more dangerous, the enemies outside, or the enemies within. I still hope we can avoid a confrontation."

"Greg. He's the dangerous one."

This time Anthony was quite serious, and there was an unmistakable catch in his voice.

"You definitely have to tell me what you know about the club and each of its committee members. The more we know, the better we can prepare.

Miles had decided to trust the boy. It was not just words; it could be the difference between success and defeat. If the boy was playing against them, they were at a disadvantage. If he

was with them, he was an invaluable asset. Of course, their intimacy had played a part in his decision. Miles knew he should have talked to Louise first, but he had reasoned that since he didn't want to part from the boy, it would be near impossible to hide it all from him. Better to get him involved and hope for the best. He had followed his instincts, and he would soon know if he had been right in doing so.

He called Louise, telling her he would be with her at the depot within the next hour and they would need to be back at the School within two to three hours. Like Walt, Sven, and Abrams, he went with Anthony to the cafeteria and tried to be seen by as many people as possible. A few minutes later, the small group of conspirators were on their way to the stables while using different paths to get there.

"You are taking the boys?" asked Abrams.

"Not this time," answered Miles, "Anthony's ankle still hurts and there will be other occasions for them to join us."

The boys accepted Miles decision without too many objections. The three of them plus Louise would be enough for the task at hand; Miles didn't want to put the boys in jeopardy again.

As they were getting ready, he realized it would be near impossible for their absence to go unnoticed. He was frantically trying to come up with other options, there were few, and none were really satisfying. Who else could be safely involved? He soon came to the conclusion that he had to cancel the expedition. He might find a working opportunity later; perhaps go after nightfall. He was about to tell the others when he finally found an adequate solution to the problem: inform Carl about the trip while hiding its real purpose.

"Anthony, could you use this opportunity to give a made-up report to Fisher? Tell him we've gone on a raid without giving him too many details. Mix truth and lies like I told you, it makes the latter much more believable. Are you up to the job?"

"I think so. In fact, I've had some training on the matter, thanks to Mister Fisher." "Great. You can pay him back in his own coin?" said Miles with a smile.

He took the boy aside for a few minutes to tell him what could be safely said, and then embraced both him and Sven.

The boys left together while they saddled. They went quickly; this time there was no real need to avoid being seen.

***

After the committee, Carl had gone to check on Cole. He had left him in his room, naked and manacled to the bedpost. Had he gone too far? He did not think so, nor did he regret it. It had been incredible, in fact. The little shit had paid for all those years of pent-up frustration. All he wanted was to do it over and over again. Cole would be his subject of experimentation for the next few days, maybe even weeks. Then he would do it with any boy he fancied, when his authority was firmly established, which he did not doubt that he would succeed.

The boy was lying on the bed with a gag in his mouth, sleeping. He had not wanted to take any chances so he had told Enrico to stay away from their room for the day.

Cole was a beautiful boy, with a beautiful body, molded to perfection by years of training. He was also strong willed which made everything all the more exciting and interesting. While Carl took off his pants and underwear, the boy heard him and opened his eyes. Carl came closer, took off the gag, and brought his sex to the boy's lips. This time he took no precautions. He wanted to know if he had succeeded in mastering the boy into submission. If it worked for Cole, it would work for any other boy.

The boy opened his mouth with a grimace, but offered no resistance. He had been used mercilessly and had been gagged for a few hours. He was in some pain, his strained muscles and orifices having not yet fully recovered.

"That's a good boy," said Carl, moving back and forth and savoring the moist cavity while caressing the boy's soft, dark curls. "You're doing a good job. Have you learned your lesson?"

Cole nodded yes without letting go of the man's engorged cock. The man bent forward and started stroking the boy's buttocks.

"I think I'll have one more go in there. Does it hurt much?"

He pushed his thumb inside, testing the resistance. The boy shuddered but did not stop sucking. "Wonderful," said Carl. "Seems to be working; indeed, let's go further. Turn around so that your legs hang off the bed."

The boy complied again, impaired only by the manacles holding him. "Let's take those off you."

Carl unlocked the manacles and then inspected the boy's anus. It was red and bruised, but it had stopped bleeding.

"It will probably hurt some, but since you're being good I'll try to go slow and be gentle. Raise your legs."

This time, he lubed himself before entering the boy. Still standing, he pushed the boy's legs all the way back and held them by the ankles. He then leaned forward and French kissed the boy deeply.

"Give me some tongue, boy, show me how much you like it!"

Cole obeyed, doing his best not to anger the man despite his aching mouth and ass. He was still terrified from last night's ordeal.

Carl was elated. He was in total control of the kid, devouring his face. He had wanted to be considerate this time around, but with his pleasure mounting, he soon forgot all about being gentle, and sought only to satisfy his lust, delighting in the boy's small jerks and gasps of pain. Cole was bleeding again long before Carl was done. He mounted the boy, putting all his weight forward and pinned the boy beneath him, his cock fully embedded in the boy's ass. Soon he had to use his hand to cover the boy's mouth to stifle the cries of pain while he kept on pounding away, accelerating the rhythm. It lasted a few minutes more until he finally came. Then, he collapsed upon the boy and caught his breath.

"You were good, but I'm sure you can do better. I'll want some initiative and enthusiasm from you the next time."

He pulled out of the battered hole, and watched as some blood and semen leaked out.

"Don't make a mess, boy." Carl picked the boy's underwear to wipe the boy's ass, pushing it in. "Tighten your ass and thighs around it till it stops."

He then brought Cole's mouth to his cock for a cleanup without any fuss. The boy was like a rag doll, doing what was asked of him mechanically.

"What shall I do with you? I can't have you going around in this state and being seen by people.

I'll have to find a place to store you somewhere until you are presentable again. I'm afraid I won't be able to use your ass for some time either, if we want to stop that bleeding. Too bad, you'll deprive me of my pleasure. It's all your fault you know, if you had behaved as you were told, none of this would have happened."

He put the gag and manacles back on and with a smile on his face, turned to leave.

"I'll see what can be done about it, maybe ask Shirley to have a look. She'll bring you something to eat and drink, too."

He then went to the game room, which was very busy. Lewis had been put in charge. Call of Duty and other shooting games were being played on the various monitors in the room. There were numerous phones, tablets, and laptops, whose batteries were being charged. Half of the boys present were part of the club; the others were some of those that had joined the companion system in exchange for such advantages. Enrico was there too, lost in his game. Carl had a soft spot for that one. He was cute – not the most beautiful boy he had known, but he was very sensual, and a delight to have sex with. Always willing to please and seemed to love it. This was not a very frequent occurrence: boys were often only interested for a time, and after reaching orgasms went on to get their satisfaction from other sources.

Carl sat beside Enrico, his hand going up the smooth leg to the knee, passing over the supple thigh and finally slipping beneath the thin fabric of the tight shorts and coming to rest on the boy's crotch. Enrico gave him an adorable smile while staying concentrated on his game.

"How are you doing, Rico? How many have you killed?" "Have no idea."

"Do you want to play something else?" The boy's smile got more pronounced. "Let me finish this level first."

"How long will that take?" "Ten, fifteen minutes."

"Okay, join me in my office. Then we'll go have lunch together."

He gave a final caress to the erect little cocklet before rising to leave. He had a good look around at all the boys in the room. Quite a few were more than pretty, and most were probably available. He remembered that he was largely responsible for the high number of lovely boys at the school since he had the admission commission in his pocket, and he had been sent all the boys' files and pictures. He insisted on the pictures, good quality ones. They would determine most of his choices, which were always followed. Demand was high, so it was not detrimental to the level of excellence sought by Saint Xavier and no one complained to be surrounded by beauty.

Of course, as the boys grew up, there could be an attack of acne or oily skin and all the hurdles of adolescence. They became gangly since not everything grew at the same rate; they would get too big a nose, an elongated chin, long legs and arms…but those were in the minority, all the boys coming from good stock. The boys were well cared for in every measure, even down to their teeth, with few having not met the orthodontist.

He would say that close to eighty percent of the boys had been chosen due to their good looks.

It could even be considered that it was an advantage when the parents came to visit Saint Xavier to view their son's prospective new school. They left with an even better image, one very pleasant to the eye.

He felt a bit giddy. He had been surrounded by boys all his life but they had mostly been the "forbidden fruit." Now all that had changed. He could have anyone he fancied, whether they were willing or not. This situation was kind of intoxicating, he wanted them all; he was sure to never have enough. He could have been happy and satisfied by having one boy at a time, like at the beginning, but soon he had created the club and had access to many more. Yet, he still remained frustrated.

There were those damned rules he had set in place himself. He had always known how to control himself and others. He knew the limits and always stayed far from them, accumulating irritation and vexation. But now, at last, it was changing and all he had dreamed of was within reach. He had just fucked Cole and fondled Enrico, and still he desired all the lovely boys around him. He knew it could be his downfall, but it had also been what drove him forward and brought him to where he was now.

***

Once back in the administration building and taking the direction of his office, Carl heard voices coming from the infirmary. He recognized Shirley's and thought it was the perfect time to talk to her about Cole's situation and future. As he entered, he saw who she was talking to. Actually, it was a bit more than talking since she had her hand in the boy's shorts.

"Having fun Shirley? I never would have thought to meet you here, Master Vorhees. Enjoying yourself?"

"He was worried he might be gay and I was testing him to see what he really liked." The shocked boy looked somewhat panicked by Carl's arrival.

After our star swimmer, it will be the turn of our star soccer player, thought the man. What a wonderful day!

"There's nothing wrong with being gay. Now that I am here, it would be natural to let him taste both. What do you say, boy?"

Bob remained silent, his mind in overdrive as he looked for a way out of this predicament. "Is he hard, Shirley, or have you failed at getting the required reaction?"

"Not at all, he was as hard as could be until you showed up. Right now he's getting limp again."

"I don't think he ever really liked me that much. I saw the look in his eyes after the soccer match the other day. How's your friend Matthew?" he asked, turning his attention to Bob, "he didn't come with you by any chance, did he?"

"None of your business, sir," replied Bob with a mix of contempt and defiance in his voice. "What did I tell you? He clearly doesn't like me. It sure puts our little test in jeopardy." "Carl, do you want to teach him better manners?"

Before Bob could make the slightest move, Shirley had seized him into a tight embrace with her left arm, her hand holding one wrist in a firm grip while she continued to fondle him with her right, but in a way that could become instantly painful. Carl had come closer, blocking any way of escape. He licked his lips, as he would do in front of an appetizing meal.

"I think he is to your taste," said Shirley as she rubbed herself against the boy while further tightening her grip.

"He sure is. He's a beauty."

"If you touch me, Mister Dunn will get you."

Bob was desperate and that was the only valid menace that came to him. Tears appeared in his eyes.

Carl came closer, standing face to face with the boy. Panting slightly with excitement, Shirley

was rubbing her crotch against the boy's buttocks. Carl licked at Bob's cheek, lapping up a few tears along the way, exaggerating his pleasure in savoring them. He then leaned forward to try to kiss the boy's mouth, but Bob closed it firmly, hiding his lips inside to refuse the man any contact.

Carl pulled back and observed the boy quietly for a moment like an entomologist would observe a pinned butterfly still flapping its wings.

"Let him go Shirley. I don't think he wants to play."

"Of course he doesn't. But personally, I would love to." Her words were slurred, and he understood she was under the influence.

"Another time, perhaps, but for now, let him go"

The tone and expression were definitive and left no place for any discussion. She let go of the boy right away. Bob jumped, not taking the time to close his shorts. He held them up with one hand as he ran straight outside, stopping only when out of sight of the building. He was out of breath and oblivious to the looks of the boys he met along the way.

"Why?" asked Shirley.

"We must wait some more if we want to be in a position to do everything we want. Let's play with those that are willing for now. We need Dunn on our side; this boy is too close to him. Let's not try anything that could anger our head of security."

"The boy is likely to talk. He is of that kind, bold, challenging."

"Maybe, but I doubt he'll say anything this time. He would have to explain how he got in this position, and that would be very embarrassing for him. It would hurt his pride."

"If you say so, you're the expert on these matters. That's the second boy you took from me; I hope it's not turning into a habit."

"It wasn't intentional, and should be of no concern for you. What should be, on the contrary, is your excessive use of illicit substances while on duty. You could make mistakes. That could constitute a problem."

"No one knows if they'll get that damned flu. How can you stay so calm and in control? I'm just having some fun before it's too late.'

"I understand, but we have plans, a future. You must be more careful. If the boys come to distrust you, you will lose your usefulness."

"How can you be so sure we won't end up in our new cemetery before your vision starts to become a reality?"

"Because it will be so, I have not the slightest doubt about that. You should think the way I do, it would help you."

"I would have loved to share little Bob with you; it's been quite some time since we played with a boy together."

"Perhaps some other time, with pleasure. There is the case of young Cole we have to settle first.

One is enough for now. I wanted to inform you of the latest developments…"

***

Max was checking the generators and the news was bad, as he had expected. They had only a few days left at the most before they were out of fuel and power, and going out into the city to get some was out of the question. It was hell out there and probably not worth the risk. In fact, he had no idea where to get diesel. All he ever did was make a call, and the truck came and took care of it.

That was one of the many areas where he was at a loss. He had specialized in others, namely protection, discretion, and provider of all of Mr. Thorvald's needs. There was no internet anymore for him to get the information from, either. If the power failed them, a lot of the food would go to waste. They would lose all the security systems, the cameras, no more games or movies for the boys who would bore quickly. There were four with them at the house now. The two in-house servants, and two he had found and brought back – or rather, fetched, for Ivor during one of his few explorations of the outside world.

Mr. Thorvald had wanted to know what was going on in the rest of the town first and later had asked him, if it was possible, to bring back one or two boys to entertain him. Blonds, of course. It seemed two were not enough for him anymore. In fact, Ivor wanted to lose himself in his passion for boys and forget the harsh reality that surrounded them.

He had said there should be plenty, wandering alone and looking for a place to welcome them. He even proposed a few nearby addresses to check where he knew that interesting boys lived, children of neighbors or relations he had admired from afar. On that matter, he had been right. Anyway, Max didn't know how to refuse his benefactor and then mentor anything.

He soon learned there was much more out there though. The remnants of humanity first, not only kids but also desperate adults, fighting for whatever they needed, and the ferals, who now worked in groups. Despite being mentally impaired, they were still deadly. He had almost been cornered by a bunch of them, having escaped with his life only due to his training, his very fit body, and his expertise in weapons. He had packed two guns with him and it had barely been enough. He had learned his lesson and now had army gear at his disposal. Luckily, such things were no longer too difficult to find. The National Guard had abandoned a lot of equipment before pulling out of the town.

For several weeks now, they had discussed their options. Wait it out here until the situation was settled and returned to some semblance of normalcy, or find a more secure and long-term community they could join. The first option was clearly now a dead end. Things would never go back to normal. It had to be the second.

It had been obvious for Max, but Thorvald had needed time to accept it. He had not wanted to let go of the old world. He had so much to lose. Despite all his connections and the information available to him, he had never thought the end of his world was coming. It had only started to seep in after the power failure, and after they had been alone and isolated in the large mansion. But even then, he had tried to avoid the current situation, choosing instead to lose himself in his boy's world and endless sex. A lot of alcohol had been consumed, too. He had been terrified of catching the flu, like everyone else.

For Max it was quite different. He had already known several such end of the world situations, first, when he had lost his parents in Ukraine and ended up in an orphanage, and second, when he had been sold and shipped to the US, and had more or less become Thorvald's property. He was among the first such boys bought by the man. He was only twelve at the time, but remarkably intelligent and had learned a lot, notably how to survive, in his years at the orphanage.

He had soon become more than mere property and a source of entertainment for the man, the first and only boy that had not been sent back after six months of service. He had been sent to school instead, taken care of and loved. He had started a second life and from the very beginning had fallen in love with Thorvald in return.

As the years passed their relationship had evolved, the sexual aspect disappearing. The man was not interested in older teenagers, but the tie between them remained strong. As he got older, he was given more and more responsibilities, always in the man's shadow. He took care of all things that were sensible and had to stay out of the public eye. He was dedicated to Thorvald, and had soon accepted his own homosexuality, realizing that he was still strongly in love with the man.

The boys were, of course, his responsibility. He was the one who supervised all that concerned them, from the selection, buying, and shipping, to the training and initiation into sex. They had to be beautiful, flawless, virgins, and tested for all diseases. Soon, Ivor had also wanted that Max took care of teaching them how to please. He wanted no complications. He felt somewhat guilty, and having the boys ready and willing appeased that feeling. Max took care of it quite well, even if kids did not really appeal to him. The boys knew what was expected of them and it usually went smoothly and without any drama. He was kind to them but strict as was needed, using his own experience to help them accept and fulfill their tasks.

He was the one that hired all of the mansion staff. They had to be reliable and discrete as some of them would have knowledge of the boys' true purposes and have to take care of them in his absence. Money made all of it possible and rather easy.

He was also Thorvald's personal bodyguard and accompanied him on most occasions.

But all that in the next few days would pertain to the past. They had to leave it all behind. He had decided the day before to go to Saint Xavier. An isolated boy's school would probably be the safest place to find refuge and start a new life. Furthermore, Thorvald could hope to find support there. The best outcome would be that Carl Fisher had survived, which would help a lot.

Carl had said during their last conversation that they had fared rather well, considering the situation. The boys were mostly spared from the flu, and without giving details, Carl assured him that the sick had been taken care of. Thorvald and Max knew the man well. He had similar interests and they knew most of the staff at the school. They could hope to be welcomed. It seemed their best bet. Plus, they had the chopper to get them there.

The sensible thing would be to take only two of the boys along. The Eurocopter X4 could seat twelve but was out of order waiting for an engine part that would now never come. Those high tech machines always needed some maintenance. They were left with the Bell 206 that sat only four people. With the six of them, they would have a possible excess of weight since Max needed planned to take weapons, food and water, and all they could need in case of a problem on the way or at their destination. Their security was a priority. He doubted Ivor would agree to it though. He used the boys, but he also cared for them. He would have to see what could be taken out of the cabin to compensate for the extra weight of the two boys. Perhaps he could take out the back seats and some other useless stuff.

They would have to go as soon as the generators stopped working, and perhaps even sooner. That would give them an option to come back to the mansion in better conditions if their destination was not what they hoped for.

He needed to find a backup solution for their future. Ivor would not like it, he was used to luxury, and he did not like to be concerned with the petty contingencies of everyday life. He would have to adapt. The only good thing Max could see for him was that, from now on, boys would be very easy to come by.

Before leaving the control room, he watched what was going on in Thorvald's living quarters for a few minutes. As expected, his boss was in the company of the four kids, taking a particular interest in his two new acquisitions. They were not a concern for Max. He had come to their rescue, and they had known what it was like to be on their own in the world after the flu. To the point that they had accepted all of Ivor's needs without any fuss, letting him satisfy all of his urges and desires.

There had been no need for menace or violence on Max's part. On the other hand, he would have to watch the other two closely. Those two might wish to benefit from the chaos, to escape, or even take revenge on their owner: they had been bought and trained, and certainly not of their own free will. They had been exposed to the visit of some guests, notably young Greg Sutton, who was not the most pleasant partner. Those two he would gladly leave behind.

***

Ten minutes after his escape, Bob was still shaking. It was not so much from fear but rather from a mixture of rage and shame. How could he have been so stupid? He had known almost right away that he had made the wrong choice.

He had not been able to see Miss Cahill after breakfast. She had been at the gymnasium attending the sick, and afterwards he learned that she had an important meeting to attend, so he had gone to play soccer with Matthew and a few others. He had underperformed of course: his head was not in the game. Not long after, he had left them to see if he could catch the nurse after her meeting. He had waited for her outside the main building, his mind still feverish, blind to everything else. He had seen Miles Dunn and a few others leave the administration building, but not Miss Cahill.

After waiting for another thirty minutes, which was about as long as he could bear, he had decided to try to find her. The most obvious place was the infirmary, which he boldly entered. He had been correct: she was there. He found her seated on a bed with a strange look on her face. She held a glass of water in one hand and her gaze seemed out of focus. She looked startled at first when he called her, as if she had been caught doing something wrong. But soon, she had regained her composure and took him to her office, where she had him sit on her desk; her hands all over him before he had even stated the reason for his visit.

"So what's wrong, darling? You can tell me, trust me."

That's when he had blurted out all he had to say. The scene in the stables, his new feelings, the thoughts that would not leave him, his parents, and what they had warned him of. Was he gay? Was it normal to feel this way?

At the same time, to avoid watching the nurse's face and reactions, his gaze traveled the room, looking at the objects, paintings, and pictures all around: pictures of Miss Cahill with Mr. Fisher, with Mr. Taylor, and Greg Sutton. He suddenly realized he might have made a mistake; blinded as he was by his obsession about sex, it suddenly came back to him. All the rumors and innuendos he had heard concerning the nurse filled his mind. At the same time, she had unfastened his shorts and started to fondle him, and she obtained a very pleasant and immediate reaction. She had leaned over for a kiss and her eyes were strange, half closed. He had been foolish and a terrible dread and a feeling of panic descended upon him when Mr. Fisher entered the office.

The whole thing had been a gigantic blunder, which could have ended very badly. He decided then that he would keep it all to himself. He wouldn't tell Mr. Dunn, and not even Matthew.

It was time for lunch but he did not want to be seen this way by his friend, flushed and on edge. He needed to calm down first. He went to see the horses, and although the whole thing had started there, it gave him some time to loosen up; the contact with the animals was always soothing for him.

After this confrontation he could think that he wasn't gay, in the end, which rather comforted him. Unfortunately, that was only part of the answer he was seeking, and it did not change his state of mind or the new feelings that overwhelmed him. He still had to find a solution. He had risked too much for almost no result. He was definitely quite stupid. It would probably stay that way until he found a way to quiet these ideas and restore some control over them. But how to do that?

***

In the cafeteria, Carl was finishing his lunch with Enrico. He was sipping his coffee while Enrico was seated in his lap with his back pushed up against the man, his whole body relaxed and at ease. If he had been a cat, he would have been purring. He was a real treasure for Carl, and so young that they had many years of enjoyment left together.

Carl was lost in his thoughts, reviewing the events of the last days, of his pleasures from the previous night and this morning with Cole. He wished to succeed in the taming of the boy; it would be a terrible waste to have to get rid of such a splendid creature.

It was Shirley that had suggested he could easily become a victim of the flu if he did not accept his fate. Death had become familiar to all of them, but Carl was still hesitant. He did not want to resort to such extremes to resolve their problems. Not yet. He knew it would come sooner or later. There would be conflicts, both inside and outside the school. Killing would become inevitable at some point. It was to be in this new world, but that was one-step he wasn't quite ready to take for now. He always found ways to work things out and he was confident that his treatment of the boy would bring the desired results eventually, after all, he had honed his manipulative talents for years, it was just going one-step further. If it worked on Cole, it would do marvels on any other boy.

It was practically stifling in the cafeteria, and almost all of the boys were in shorts and t- shirts. Some were even going without one, which was against the dress code of the school but something that Carl found quite pleasant to the eye. He would gladly return to his room to take a nap with Enrico…and probably more. There

would be fresh air there too, since he had running electricity and air conditioning in his room, both of which were things of the past elsewhere in the school. But then, he would have to find a place for Cole where contact with the younger boy could be avoided. He could perhaps put him in a closet or hide him under the bed. That last idea appealed to him a lot: he would fuck Enrico with Cole under the bed, feeling each of his thrusts. That was a very exciting image!

"Rico, let's go to my room. I want to play," he said, fondling the boy under his shorts.

"I'm still a bit sore from last time."

It was said not as a reproach, just stating a fact.

"I really need some release. Feel it?"

Carl's cock had suddenly come to life in a very obvious way under the boy's bottom.

"Sure do," Enrico replied with a knowing smile.

"Come on then."

They were leaving the cafeteria when Anthony quickly walked up behind him and whispered, "Can we talk?"

"I'm rather busy right now…"

"It won't take long." Carl sighed.

"Enrico, wait for me at the game room. I'll be there in a moment."

It was just as well; it would give him time to hide Cole under the bed.

"I can go straight to the apartment and put on the air conditioning if you want," cooed Enrico.

"It's locked. I won't be long, go."

The boy gave him one last questioning look before turning away and heading in the direction of the game room.

"Anthony, wait a few minutes then join me in my office."

***

Anthony had rehearsed his part and found some pleasure in the idea of misleading Mr. Fisher.

He felt up to the task of using the man's own counsels to deceive him. It was ironic and perhaps dangerous, but he didn't mind. In fact, it gave him a small thrill and made him feel rather important. He entered the office with a conspiratorial attitude. The man had been waiting for him but he was clearly in a hurry.

Carl, on second thought, wasn't entirely sure that he had locked his apartment. He thought Enrico might have gone there anyway to start the air conditioning since he liked his comfort and appreciated the privileges that came with his position. Carl didn't want him to come upon Cole manacled and gagged on the bed. He wasn't sure what he should do, leave right away and check on Enrico, or hear what Anthony had to tell him.

"So, any progress, Anthony?"

"I won't take long. I think I got Mister Dunn wrapped around my finger; Sven is no match for me. He doesn't really like to be fucked, doesn't know how to relax, and that's what Dunn really wants. And that, I can give him. It's only a matter of time 'till I get those files you're looking for."

"You could have told me this at any other time." Carl was taping his right foot in annoyance.

"Well, that's not all. Did he tell you he was going back to the food depot?"

"No, he did not." Carl's foot had stopped moving.

"He went to get the stuff that he hopes the military men abandoned when they left the place. He sent Louise to check it out, seems he doesn't trust you that much yet."

"He plans to keep it all to himself?"

"Maybe, he didn't like the way you spoke about him yesterday."

"I see. I can understand that. I'll try to be more considerate in the future. You're doing well, Anthony. I knew I could trust you, despite what happened with Greg. I'll make sure he leaves you alone. Keep at it and you'll be rewarded. Come see me whenever you have valuable information, like you did today, it is better that we meet away from prying eyes and ears. Now, I need to leave you."

"Yes, sir"

Carl could not resist having a feel of the boy's ass before he left.

"Keep using that delectable bottom of yours. Too bad I won't be able to access it for some time. You understand we have to keep some distance for now."

"Of course, sir."

I'll leave first; you follow in a few minutes."

He gave the boy a goodbye kiss perfunctorily, and then walked down the hallway at a brisk pace, anxious to catch up with Enrico, while knowing that he was too late anyway.

Anthony, meanwhile, was quite satisfied with his little speech. He had been able to give all the information Mr. Dunn wanted. He had to show proofs of his loyalty and usefulness to Carl if he wanted Fisher to trust him and ultimately confide some of his intentions. This was one-step in the right direction. Mission accomplished, he thought.

***

The trees were a blur as Miles and his companions rode past them as quickly as possible. They had avoided the road and had taken a shortcut through the forest. Walt knew the trails like the back of his hand; he had used them many times in the last few years. The GPS still worked too since it was satellite based. They had taken one but should not need it. It would probably not last forever though, and Miles knew that he would have to teach the boys how to read maps and use a compass again.

They were getting closer to town when they reached a clearing and came suddenly nose to nose with a large group of kids, along with a few adults that immediately raised their weapons and took aim at them. Miles reined in his mount and raised his hands.

"No need for that, we're just passing through."

As he was talking, he was observing his surroundings, looking for options and an eventual way out. He saw they were a sorry group with about thirty kids of all ages, with quite a few bandaged or on stretchers. The three adults were men; one rather young looking while the other two appeared to be in their forties.

"Go and leave us alone. We have nothing for you," said one of them with a catch in his voice, his hand shaking slightly. Miles noticed that the man's finger was on the trigger of a hunting rifle. Not practicing proper trigger discipline, he thought, that makes him dangerous.

"You have nothing to fear from us. On the contrary, we might be able to help you. We come from Saint Xavier, the school."

The three men relaxed a bit but their weapons were still leveled at Miles. The kids had grouped themselves behind the adults. The bigger ones held knives, clubs, rocks, or branches. They surrounded the younger and wounded ones, forming a protective circle around them. It was obvious that they had all seen difficult days.

"Saint Xavier, the boys' school? I know it, how is it there?"

There was a fleeting hope in the man's voice. Miles saw they had close to no equipment or food reserves with them.

"It's still standing," he said, not wanting to give the man too many details. He knew the group would not be welcome there and did not want to give them false hopes.

"Where are you from?" "From town."

The weapons had been lowered, the tension dissipating. They would be easy targets to anyone with ill intentions. Despite their past hardships, they seemed not to have learned their lesson yet.

"It's hell there. We thought we'd be safer in the forest, away from it all."

"Not a bad idea, but you won't be able to go on for long without equipment and food."

"Is the school far? We might go there," said the youngest one, clutching a Colt pistol tightly. "Not an option, they don't accept refugees there anymore. I'm not in charge, sorry."

"You said you could help!"

They were clearly desperate. How long had they been on the road?

"There's a food depot about three, four miles from here. That's where we're going, to check it out. There's all the food you could need there and it shouldn't be too difficult to barricade and defend. It's in the periphery of the town and rather quiet. A National Guard unit was stationed there; they might have left some weapons. What do you think?"

"If what you say is true, you are a blessing from God. Who should we thank?" "Miles Dunn. I'm a former Marine."

"Beau Shein, I'm a cook," said the man with the rifle as he came closer to shake his hand, "and this is my son, Kyle, with the colt. We do thank you."

"Walt, give your radio to Beau."

Walt handed it over to the man, who turned it over in his hands, examining it.

"You know how to use that?" Miles asked, "Can you start moving north? We will go ahead to make sure the way is clear and that the depot is safe. We'll come back and escort you there as soon as we're done."

"Again, I can't thank you enough, sir. And I speak also for all the kids we picked up along the road."

"You did your part, of which you should be proud, and I'm doing mine, Beau. If there's any problems I'll call you on the radio, okay?" "Seems simple enough."

"Get moving then, it should take you about an hour to get there, perhaps a bit more. See you, and good luck."

Miles spurred his horse, followed by Walt and Abrams, leaving the group behind. "Abrams, do you think I did the right thing?" he asked.

"Can't see how you could have done otherwise."

"We have an hour to move the vehicles and most of the weapons away from the depot. I don't want them to see us doing it. You never know, they might show up at the school one way or another. It will be a good thing to have them holding the place down, we might need allies and access to the food in the near future. They'll owe us."

"So it's in the best interest of everyone involved then." "That's the way I see it."

***

Up in his tree, Sasha finally thought it safe enough to leave its safety. His body hurt everywhere, spending the night and most of the day up there had been uncomfortable, to say the least. Nonetheless, he had been able to get a few hours of sleep. It had been a fretful sleep full of anxiety and fear. Fear of the ferals, but above all, fear of falling. He had ripped his t-shirt in two and used it to tie his midsection to the tree. Even so, he had not been sure he would get through the night safely.

He had had ample time to study his map and try to find a route that would give him as much cover as possible to reach his goal. He knew that his foes were not crazy people anymore. They could think, they could plan, and they could work together. He wasn't sure anymore that he would make it through. He had been on the verge of tears a few times during the night, feeling alone and desperate. He had learned how to use the gun, how to take off the safety. He only had five rounds and he had lost his lance, though he still had his baseball bat.

He would have to be extra careful from now on but the gate wasn't that far anymore.

As soon as he was on the ground, he crouched down to listen, and looked all around intently. Glancing at the sun, he tried to get back his bearings and started to move. He wasn't quite sure of the direction to take and had only a vague idea of where to go. He had memorized his surroundings on the map and was sure he would know what to do as soon as he reached an identifiable street.

Only forty minutes later, he was within reach of the main gate and freedom. He had not seen or heard anyone, but his previous experiences told him that this did not mean much. There would be a lot of open terrain to get to the gate and he needed to find a safe place from where he could watch and make plans on how to proceed. There were a few community buildings all around it, some three levels high. He just had to enter one and go to the top. From up there he could hope to have a better view of the obstacles that remained to finally leave this place. Easy to say, not so easy to do, and better to be prepared.

He went into the next house on his path and soon found the tools to replace his makeshift lance.

He even found some snacks in a cupboard: chocolate and chips – kid's food. Not very filling, but the sugar would give him energy. He tucked the snacks into his pocket and then resumed his quest to escape Crestview.

Just before slipping out a back door, the same one he had used to get in, he saw a group of ten or so ferals going in the direction he had intended to take. After a moment of hesitation, he simply followed them, keeping his distance and staying under cover. Moving this way, he reached a three- story administration building on Main Avenue without any incident. The glass doors were broken and debris was spread all over the floor. He tried not to step on the broken glass and avoided making any noise while being on alert for any sign of a presence inside. He soon found the stairs, rummaged in his backpack for a flashlight, and switched it on.

Once he had reached the top floor, he checked around for any danger before searching for a point of view that would show him the main gate area, but no window really faced that direction. He had to open one, bend over, and lean out of it. Even without binoculars, he immediately sized up the problem. There were people, or rather, ferals, everywhere, blocking any hope of passing through!

***

Ten minutes after leaving Shein's group, Miles, Abrams, and Walt were with Louise at the depot. She had not been idle. She had picked all the single weapons lying around and already put them in the vehicle with the machine gun. She had gathered over thirty. No questions were asked concerning the dog at her side. Both Humvees were low on gas and they had to transfer everything into the one, leaving the other empty.

The dog had been wary at first of the new arrivals but soon accepted them. Following one, then the other, picking up their scents, and watching their proceedings with interest.

"Do you think they'll accept him at the school?" asked Walt, "they might consider him a refugee."

"He is a girl, and I won't give them a choice," answered Louise in a very serious tone. She then addressed them all, "There's a few crates of grenades, ammunition, and I think more weapons that I could not carry myself, if you would care to tend to that. Then I might need some help with burying someone."

Miles made a rapid tour of the place to see if Louise had missed anything of value. After some hesitation, he decided to ask for help taking ten bulletproof vests from one of the offices. They would not be of much help with the ferals, who did not use weapons to his knowledge, but he knew that they might have to face human foes in the near future. There were also a few helmets that he brought outside. All that gear was a few sizes too big for most of the boys at the school, he knew, but the image of Matthew, Bob, Sven, or any other kid wearing them could not leave his mind. He had to try it when they were back. It would certainly be a laugh for the whole troop, funny and cute at the same time.

The Humvee was packed and they were ready to go, when, followed by the dog, Louise went back through the depot alley to the boy's body. She picked him up delicately and brought him outside, laying him beside a flowerbed. The dog came to sit beside the corpse. There was a shovel on the side of each vehicle. She took one and started shoveling, and was soon joined by Abrams. Miles came over and took the shovel from her hands before starting to dig too.

When they were done Abrams asked, "How did you find him? Should we say something?" "He was a brave boy and fought well."

Louise said nothing more; she caught the dog by the collar and put her in the armored Humvee. "Abrams, can you drive it?" asked Miles.

"Should be no problem."

"Okay then, you go with Louise and stop one mile from here. I'll go fetch Shein and his group.

They should not be far away now. I put aside five M-16 rifles and some ammunition for them, and there may be more stuff scattered around all over the place. It will be up to them to find everything. As soon as they are safely settled here, we will join you so we can all go back home. Be careful you are overloaded, stay on the road."

"Miles," Louise asked, "have you seen all those fires in town?" She pointed at several columns of smoke rising in the distance.

"With all the hot dry weather we've had for the past few months, if one of them reaches the forest it would only take a strong wind and we could have a major fire starting, with the school straight in its path."

"Yes, you're right, I've been thinking about that for some time now. We will have to find a solution to that problem, and soon. But for now, you must get going."

Miles, getting in the saddle, watched them drive away. After one last look around, at the depot, the small grave, and the columns of smoke in the distance, he signaled Walt to follow him and they were gone.

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