Chapter 19

There were twenty boys working at the Conner farm, supervised by Miles and Louise. They had brought two trucks to load with food for the animals, slowly emptying the barn of its reserves. They had also taken the seeds they had found; the plan was to transform the vast school grounds to the east into crop fields. Two trips back to the school had been done already and the trucks were almost ready for a third.

Six of the boys had gone exploring, the twins, William, Bob, Matthew, and Chad. They said it was to check for anything of interest but Miles knew they mostly wanted some well-earned time off from the boring and arduous labor of the past three hours.

Chad was leading them, as he had a clear idea of where to go.

"Is it far?" asked William, a bit worried of the distance already traveled. The main farm buildings were not in sight anymore.

"We're almost there. Can you see that copse of palmetto trees? The well is right beside it." It was a matter of minutes for them to get to their destination.

"What's there, tell us again," said Brad, encumbered by the two heavy M16s he was carrying for his brother and himself. They weighed heavily on his shoulder as well as the sting of having lost the bet. They were constantly challenging each other for one thing or another.

"It's our secret stash place. There should be cigarettes and beer."

"I don't like either, even more so since the other night," said Matthew.

"You don't know what's good for you. You should try it again. You'll see. Otherwise there should be some chocolate and cookies too, for Louis, and for the little kids." It was said without malice and brought a smile to the whole troop.

They had reached the well, where Chad bent over the stone ridge and pulled on a hidden rope. They soon heard the sound of bottles bumping each other.

"A good way to keep them cold, and fresh too," remarked Chad, rather proud and pulling out four Budweiser and one Corona. "Who wants one?"

The twins raised their hands followed by William and somewhat more reluctantly Bob.

"I'll have the Corona for myself, if you don't mind, guys," added Chad.

"How do you open them?" asked William.

Chad went to the trees and removed some branches. There, under a tarp, was his second stash, kept safe and dry. It was the cigarettes and sweets.

"Don't worry; I've got everything we need. So, Matthew, what is it going to be: cigarettes and beer, or sweets?"

Matthew was kind of cornered there but still wanted to show he wasn't intimidated.

"Why not both, I'll share with Bob. I'll have a sip and a puff, more if I like it. But I doubt it."

"That's up to you. Let's settle in the shade and relax."

"Great, but we'll have to get back to the trucks before long or they'll miss us," warned William.

"I think this option is much better. I'm in no hurry to get back there. My arms and back are still hurting," said Sam.

Matthew took his sip while the others were lighting their cigarettes. He definitely did not like the taste and returned the bottle. They could call him names if they wanted but he would not do it if he did not want to. He wandered apart from the others, sad that he could not share this moment with them, but also proud and firm in his principles. There was a small rise that hid the forest edge, only the top of the trees could be seen perhaps two hundred feet away from where he stood, still close to the well. He decided to climb up there to have a good view of the surrounding area.

That's when he saw them.

To the east were fields, and beyond those, marshlands, which then met the forest. The marshlands were mostly dry, and had been since the beginning of spring. To the north, in front of him, was the heavily wooded wilderness that covered miles and miles as far as he could see, without interruption. To the west were more fields and probably one and a half miles [2.5 km] away, the farm and then more woods. Behind him, probably four miles [6.5 km] away, was Saint Xavier, you could see its north fence a few hundred yards away that limited the view to the school's grasslands as the boys imagined them.

Matthew saw them first, moving quickly along the forest edge. Perhaps twenty or thirty of them, he wasn't sure because they darted in and out making any count impossible. What were they? Matthew had little doubt – ferals, perhaps only two hundred yards from where he stood.

Immediately, he lowered himself to the ground and started stepping back, to warn his friends. That's when he saw some of them stop and look in his direction. He had been spotted. When he got back to the boys, they were exchanging jokes and enjoying their beer and cigarettes: oblivious of the menace. Fortunately, they were not yet too tipsy.

"Get your guns! Ferals! I think they saw me."

They all understood right away it was no joke and grabbed their weapons.

"Where? How many?" bursted out William in a loud voice.

"Beyond the rise, at the forest's edge; I'm not sure how many; a lot. Too many for us, I fear."

None of them had been confronted with the real thing except William who naturally took the role of head of the troop.

"We've got the firepower but not enough ammo!" They had three AR15s, two rifles, one handgun, and Bob's crossbow that he took with him at every occasion. "Let's do it as we've been taught by Mister Dunn. Retreat to the farm in good order. Shoot to kill. Let's move!" his voice was a bit shaky, all of them were tense but they were holding out.

"Perhaps they'll leave us alone," urged Sam, as they followed William, who had set a brisk pace, sending back short glances to the rise beyond which they could not see the ferals' progress.

"We could run," said Matthew.

"We will, if necessary," replied William.

They suddenly heard barely human calls as the first ferals came into sight on top of the rise; it was then that they indeed started to run. A second group appeared to their flank, closer than the first as the ground was leveling, giving them a better view of the situation. William understood they were at risk of being cut off from the farm and any rescue. He gave the signal; they stopped and opened fire twice.

As it had been set, the twins and Chad then started running again while William, Matthew and Bob, their best shot, kept the ferals more or less at bay. Even in this situation of stress Bob had not lost his talent, two ferals fell and the others dispersed but kept moving closer at a slower pace. Forty feet [12 m] further the twins and Chad had taken position waiting for their friends to rejoin them and covering for them, being careful not to hurt anyone with friendly fire.

Matthew, as he ran beside his friend, felt absurdly guilty of their predicament. If he had not gone over that rise he would not have been spotted. The ferals may have never come this way leaving them alone and safe.

They repeated the same maneuver over and over, the ferals getting closer, leaving them with the impression they had not covered that much ground.

It was to be a long way to the farm, and William doubted they could make it. Perhaps they should simply run for their lives.

***

A few miles from there, Burt Algood, the sex-crazed womanizer, was doing what he liked doing best: having sex. He had never expected it would be so easy and so satisfying to do it with boys. He had three of the kids to entertain him now and was at work to add a fourth one. Since there was nothing much else to do, he spent a lot of time at it. The one he preferred was Ethan. He was the most reserved on the subject, the one that insisted that this activity had to be secret. Even though it was clear that everyone had a good idea of the nature of their relationship. But as soon as the door was closed, his little adventurer, as he affectionately called him, was a little sex bomb, ready for almost anything. He didn't shy away from kissing, cuddling… sucked like a pro and accepted the man's cock without a flinch. He wasn't even against putting on some girl lingerie to please his partner and guardian. The other two, Joey and Raoul, were more of the practical kind. Once they had orgasmed, it was more or less over and they lost interest, wanting to leave and go play.

That was exactly what was going on with Joey at that moment.

"I have to go; they're waiting for me to play monopoly."

"Wait a little bit more; I'm feeling it coming again."

Burt was pumping in and out of the boy's chute and he was determined to deliver his third load of the day. Ethan had received his first one in this same bed early this morning. They spent every night together now.

"You came once already. I want to go."

"Why are you in such a hurry?"

"I want to play and I'm a bit sore too. Bradley did me earlier, he's big and rough."

"Bradley?" Burt slowed down as he looked at Joey's face under him." What are you talking about?"

"He said that since you were fucking me, there was no reason he couldn't do it too."

"How long has he been doing it?"

"I don't know; a few days. I didn't want to at first. But he is way stronger than me. Only Ethan has escaped him so far. I think."

Burt's cock slipped out of the boy's stretched hole, half-flaccid. What have I done to these kids? Some of his earlier shame was coming back. How could he reproach Bradley for following in his footsteps? How could he call it bullying, when many, if not all of his neighbors, would call rape what he had been doing for over a week now? In any other circumstances, he would have ended up in jail.

"Ethan? What about the others, Raoul, Robbie, Ricky and the two new ones, Gilbert and Luis?"

"Raoul and Ricky, that's for sure, maybe Kate too, I don't know about the others. Can I go now, are you done?"

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"What for? What's the difference? Bradley made it clear that he wanted us to keep quiet about it. You don't argue with him."

Kate, she's only eight? Nine? What have I done? My god!

Joey did not wait for an answer, he wiped himself clean with some toilet paper on the bedside table and pulled on his shorts and left Burt alone, dumbfounded and perplexed, considering the consequence of his acts.

A few minutes later, he came out of his bedroom. He had to have a serious talk with Bradley.

He found him with Ethan in the kitchen.

"I won't do it."

"Of course you'll do it; you're the cutest of the bunch, and you were among the first ones to blow me, what's the difference? We all know you're doing it with Burt, why would you spend nights with him otherwise."

"You know nothing and anyway I don't care."

"You'll do what I tell you, or else…"

"Or else what? I'm not afraid of you. It's me who rescued you and the others, and brought you here. If I tell Burt what you're doing, you'll end up alone on the streets where I found you."

"You spoke well, Ethan," Burt interrupted, "I'll take over, please leave me alone with Bradley now, we need to talk."

"You got nothing to tell me. I don't have to listen to you." Bradley was not impressed; he was a big kid, stubborn and not too smart.

Burt waited until Ethan had left the room; he wasn't impressed either. He had been in a few brawls in his time because of his flirts, of course, and thought he could manage this situation.

"I'll just state a few simple rules, Bradley, and you make sure they're followed. As Ethan just said, if you don't accept them, I'll simply ask you to leave my home. Is that understood?"

"I'm not stupid, who will force me?"

"I will, believe me. Now listen, it is very simple. I agree that I have not been exemplary; many would say that I took advantage of my position with you kids but I never forced anyone. So, first, you leave Kate alone, second, if any of the boys say no to what you want to do, you stop immediately and you leave them alone. If I ever hear that you've broken either one of these very simple rules, even just once, you are out of here. I will not repeat myself a second time… Now you may go."

Bradley had not expected such a reaction and firm attitude from Burt, whom he considered weak and uncertain: he was left speechless. He tried to find something to say that would hurt the man but found nothing; finally, he left the kitchen silently. Burt wasn't sure the case was closed but he sure hoped so. Now he had to see Kate and try to know if he had really touched her and if she was all right, a delicate matter. It would not be easy for him.

***

Miles had sent one truck back, with Louise and seven boys, and they were about to finish loading the second one when they heard the shots, to the west. They were coming from some distance away, but he was sure that it was his boys that were under attack. He had told them not to go too far, but they were kids. After a few seconds of hesitation, trying to keep calm, grabbing his gun, and motioning for the boys with him to do the same and follow him, he got in the truck's cabin. Loaded like it was, he did not know how far he could go with it but it still would be faster than on foot. Walt and Sven were seated by his side, the others, pulling off some of the haystacks to make room, got in the back.

A few minutes later, they were in view of them. And it was an interesting sight.

There were perhaps forty attackers who Miles classified immediately as ferals; quite a few were naked, of all shapes and sizes, with women of all ages among them; some with a piece of clothing still on; many with bladed weapons, clubs, gardening tools. They were not rushing at the boys, as one would expect but seemed to test them, moving back and forth zigzagging to avoid the bullets. He counted five laying on the ground leaving a trail of death behind them. About ten of them were trying to get around the small troop of boys and take them from behind.

The boys were doing as he had often instructed them and had them rehearse repeatedly: when confronted with a much stronger force, retreat in good order. At all times, three of them faced the enemy and shot at it to slow it down. Once their companions had run for about twenty yards, those three, in turn, would take up a defensive position and cover for them. They were applying his training to the letter, firing only single shots even with the automatic weapons, being careful to avoid hitting anyone with friendly fire. Miles felt rewarded for his work with them and mostly relieved that a catastrophe had been averted, they were all there alive and well. The strategy was working but the ferals were still gaining ground. He drove straight for the boys, blasting the truck's klaxon to announce their coming.

"Make room for them in the back," he shouted. "We'll turn around and leave; no need to fight them. Open fire only if they follow."

As the words left his mouth, Walt pulled on his sleeve and pointed to the north.

At first, Miles had some difficulty comprehending what was evident. It was a vision out of Dante indeed. They were pouring out of the forest, an endless flow that filled the horizon. He let go of the klaxon at once.

"Damned! There must be hundreds of them."

He had to hit the brakes hard to avoid running over William, with Matthew and Bob coming towards the truck at full speed. He spun the steering wheel, turning the truck around. He got off the brake, but didn't hit the gas; the truck crawled along, slow enough for all the stray boys to clamber aboard. Once all were aboard and holding on, he hit the gas, accelerating in the direction of the farm to the east. Dunn did not want them going in the direction of Saint Xavier. He would lead the ferals away.

They would have to go south, and once there, find the road that would take them back to Saint Xavier. They were now way too fast for the ferals to catch up and they would lose them long before they reached that road, provided the truck didn't hit a hidden hole or break something.

At the rear, the rescued boys started shooting at the mass with all they had. Miles reacted immediately.

"Hold your fire. Save your bullets. We don't know what's waiting for us on the way back."

Soon, and fortunately, they were out of range and out of sight of the horde.

Miles, though, was quite worried. He had no idea that such a gathering of ferals was possible, nor any idea of its purpose or its origin. He prayed they had seen all of it and that they would not meet with another one on their way to the school. He hoped too, that they had no way to follow them and were not headed there, that could be the end of all they had worked for, of any hope of a better future.

After ten minutes on the road, they crossed the path of the second truck on its way to the farm. With both vehicles slowing down, Miles signaled Louise to go back and follow. As they came in close sight of each other, he saw her questioning look. Through the lowered window, he simply said, "I'll explain when we get to Saint Xavier," then accelerated again.

***

Upon arrival, Miles gave the driving wheel to Walt and sent him to unload the truck while he waited for Louise. He did not forget to congratulate William, Bob, Matthew, Chad, and the twins for having kept a cool head and applying their training. They were all, more or less, shaken by this first baptism of fire but seemed to be recovering fast. Unfortunately, he had no time left to spend with them.

Miles, together with Louise, then went to his office, knocking on Fisher's door on the way, and asking him to join them. As usual, he was in good company and no one could really tell if he was working or enjoying himself, probably a bit of both. Miles made clear that it was for a serious matter and that the boys' presence was not desired.

"So what's so important that you wanted to tell me?" asked Fisher. He was a bit flustered and it appeared that he had been enjoying himself. It was taking more and more of his time these days.

"Yes, why did you leave the farm in such a hurry? We were far from done," said Louise. She was concerned, wondering what had been the reason.

"We were attacked. Well, the boys were attacked. They had wandered too far, and I had to come to their rescue."

"Who attacked them? I hope there were no casualties." Fisher was alarmed by this turn of events. Having an outside menace was not part of his plans.

"No one got hurt, it was ferals."

"Oh that, that's no big concern to us."

"It is. I can tell you, what I saw could be our end."

"What do you mean?" Louise was intrigued now.

"First it was a group of about forty. But when we got there, hundreds were coming out of the forest. And they were not of the mindless kind. They were more or less organized. They moved and attacked as a pack of animals, like lions or wolves or big apes for all I know. Let's hope the school is not on their path."

The other two were silent, listening without really believing what they heard.

"Ferals? What you say is quite incredible," said a skeptic Fisher. "Where could they have come from? Hundreds you said?"

"I didn't stay to count. We must change all our defense plans, post lookouts outside the school in case they come this way. The Conner farm is only five miles from here in a straight line, and its fields are along our boundary to the north."

"Okay let's get a map and see where to put them. What is the distance that our radios are able to reach? They'll need horses for fast movement." Louise had not needed long to gauge the menace and search for the best defense they could implement rapidly. "They did not follow us, I hope."

"I don't see how they could have? Yes, we will need sentinels, one or two for the west and north fences, farthest from the school buildings, more in the woods a few miles from the main and secondary entrances in the east and south. The radios should reach that far. We will not ring the alarm, because that could attract their attention and bring them here. We need to round up all our fighters and arm them until we know where the ferals are going. "

"Yes, I'm not sure adding more lookouts will be enough. We should try to find out where they are and where they're heading and if there are more groups like that around," advised Louise.

"I see what your intentions are, Louise. You want to go with Lucent." It was not a question; it was a statement from Miles, who saw how short they were on alternatives. Only the math teacher and he had the experience and competence for such a mission.

"Who else could do it? I'm even better suited than you, Miles, I know the area very well. I've been touring it for years on horseback. I just need to find them, see how many there are. You said hundreds; they should be easy to spot. As soon as I have a good idea where they are, and where they're going, and if it's not here, I'll do a large sweep around the school to check that there are no other such groups around. I could be back by nightfall."

"That's settled then. We have to know what's going on," declared Fisher, sold on the idea.

"I'm afraid you're right Louise, we have to let you go, but I would prefer you were not alone. Who could you take with you?"

"Greg," interjected Fisher. "He can do it."

"Why not," answered Louise, cutting Miles' own answer. "If he knows how to follow orders…"

"I'll make sure, he does," said Fisher. "I'll send for him."

"Yes, do that, while I finalize the details with Miles."

Fisher left them, giving Miles the opportunity to show his surprise.

"Greg? Are you sure? Not the most reliable or likable partner I fear."

"That's perfect for me. I won't have to worry about him since I don't mind if he comes back or not."

"You don't plan anything drastic, I hope?"

"As much as I would like to, no, we need everybody at the moment. But if he does something foolish or gets in the way, I won't risk anything to save him."

"I understand the feeling, I miss Abrams. He would have been of great help in this situation. I'll go see how he is this afternoon, and then check on our lookouts on the north side of the school, as that's where we saw the ferals."

"Do that, I won't be far on the other side of the fence. I'll take a radio so we will be able to communicate. See you Miles."

"No need to tell you to be careful, Louise. Come back to us."

"I will, don't doubt it."

She left his office with a smile. She liked it. She liked the danger, the adrenaline. She liked the idea that she was making a difference.

Miles was not as sure of himself and admired her. He had to see Abrams, you never knew, there could be a miracle, like with Ke, who survived and made it through.

When he got to the gymnasium, there was no miracle. Abrams was sick, more so than the previous day, but he was fighting it.

He could not stay, and after exchanging a few words, he was walking at a brisk pace toward the barn to get a horse and check that the lookouts were at their post. All around there was a buzz of activity as their orders were being followed. A line had formed in front of the armory: all the available weapons were being distributed. Groups of boys were positioned in different parts of the school; ready to face an attack. It would be so until the whereabouts of the ferals was known. Ringing the bell as a call to arms had been forbidden even if the sound did not carry that far they did not want to take any chances.

At the barn, his horse was ready. Walt was there with a radio and an AR15.

"Make sure that everything is in order at the school. I hope it won't be necessary but we have to be prepared for the worst. Keep our boys close to you. Not only are they good but I don't want any harm to come to them. Call me in case of need. I won't be more than fifteen, twenty minutes away. You can do that, Walt?"

"Sure will, Mister Dunn."

"If all goes well I should be back in ninety minutes at the most. I don't want to be away too long."

"Is Fisher giving the orders?"

"It will have to be so for the moment. But once again don't hesitate to call me if you don't agree with him. I won't be far."

He was soon gone on his way to the western boundary two miles [3 km] away.

***

Miles was in his office. He had asked to be left alone except for urgent matters, his radio on receive mode, and close by. He was reviewing the best way to defend the place in case of an attack, considering the new menace when Alex had come to him and knocked on the door accompanied by a friend.

The boy, called Stuart, was of the bookish kind, eyes hidden behind thick spectacles with mousy auburn hair. He probably wasn't that bad looking without them. Miles was rather annoyed by the disturbance until they told him the reason for their visit. The boy was kind of an electronic and computer genius or so they said. He was also a fan of drones and expert at making and controlling them. Several had been built at the shop and ready for use, they said.

"Are they equipped with cameras?" asked Miles, immediately aware of the possibilities.

"Yes that's the point," answered Stuart. "They could be used to survey the perimeter. There's one with night vision even. There could be more."

"How far can they go? And for how long?"

"I'll have to do some tests. I think it could be five miles [5 km] easy and up to forty-five minutes. That's more than those you see in the stores. We can try to boost them up."

"Well, Stuart, you bring me the only good news of the day. That might work even better than the lookouts outside the school's perimeter. Make a list of everything you might need to make them ready for use, and the names of students that might help you. This is a priority. See Mister Tools and Walt Turner for any needs you might have. When do you think they could be operational?"

"Could be tomorrow afternoon, I just have to check them, see if I can add more autonomy and power – should be easy. Then, check how well we can receive the images. There are several ways to do it. Either we have a pilot, or I can program them to do a circuit and we just need someone to watch the images."

"If we see something of interest, can we take back the controls?"

"Yes, no problem."

Miles took the boy in his arms.

"I love you, Stuart. I should have thought of something like that long ago. I can't thank you enough."

The boy was beaming.

"You too, Alex. You did well to bring your friend to me. Come over here."

Alex joined his friend in the man's embrace and stayed there as he let go of Stuart.

"Stuart, have your list ready by dinner. Then I'll see to it you get everything you need. I'll see you there and work on it this evening. Now go."

He left the room, leaving the man and Alex close together. Miles had slipped one hand into the boy's shorts, cupping one of his firm buns.

"Alex, you're exactly what I need right now," he said, as soon as the door closed, pulling down the boy's shorts. "Bend over the desk."

The rush of desire had taken possession of him as soon as he had been in contact with the boy's flesh.

Without any further ceremony, and with one hand on the boy's slender neck, the other on his lower back, he entered Alex and started a vigorous fuck, venting away all of the accumulated tension of the day. Paradoxically, he was angry with himself for acting that way, even if he knew the boy probably did not mind too much. But still, he did not relent or slow down. It was intended as a fast and rough affair that left no real place for the boy's enjoyment. After a few minutes, Miles sagged over the boy as he came and spent his seed. He immediately wanted to make amends.

"Sorry, Alex, it wasn't right of me to treat you that way, and even worse, since you brought Stuart and this great idea to me just before. Really I'm sorry."

Once again, like with Sven the previous night he had been carried away. He was not cured yet of putting his own pleasure before everything else. Am I any better than Fisher, in the end? He wondered once again.

Alex was catching back his breath after the assault.

"That's nothing… I love it that way… But… I'll need some help… I haven't finished yet," he said, turning around and showing a charming and very firm erection.

Miles went to his knees and brought him to climax, being careful this time to craft the best experience possible for the boy. He did not like how it all played out, but he had somewhat calmed the stress of the day and apologized to the boy. It would have to do for now.

***

Louise and Greg had returned after nightfall. She had been able to find the ferals, and establish that they were not headed toward the school. Then, as she planned, she covered close to twenty miles [32 km] all around the school boundary and found no other such menacing groups in the area. The alert was partially lifted, with the lookouts staying at their post and half the troops kept at their position. School life resumed more or less as usual.

Louise and Miles spent the evening together discussing the latest crisis, of course, but also this and that, the boys, Fisher, books, and movies, likes and dislikes, and some of their past experiences. They decided to bring back to the school, in secret, the machine gun, weapons, and ammunition they had hidden near the secondary entrance as soon as possible. They would be needed in case of an attack.

It was all very quiet after the day's harrowing events. That episode could have ended badly. As it was, it turned out to be a very good exercise of the school's readiness. Bringing them to their battle stations showed that everyone could come together, work together, act as one. The queue for the weapons highlighted a shortcoming, if the ferals had raced towards the school, in the hundreds, this weakness could have proved disastrous. The need for an early warning was clear: they were facing a different enemy now.

Sven was with them. As much as possible he did not leave Miles' side, mimicking Matthew's attitude and leaning against the man, holding his hand, silent for the most part. They were in Louise's apartment in the Teacher's House. Miles could have moved there, it was quite empty now, but he preferred to stay close to the boys in his small cubicle.

Louise had taken out an old bottle of Quinta do Noval, Sven had taken a sip out of Miles' glass and rather liked it. Louise had offered him his own glass but did not fill it as much as the adults were. He was still quite proud of it and took his time savoring it.

The show and level of intimacy between the man and boy clearly elicited no disapproval from the math teacher, which still surprised and very much comforted Miles. It was a wonderful feeling to be accepted without reserve. He had never thought it would happen to him in his lifetime. He could caress the boy's naked thigh; enjoy his soft skin and supple flesh without fear and shame. In the few weeks since they had met, the lad's complexion had become darker under the sun's rays and his long hair had bleached. When naked he loved the contrast between the boy's still very white midsection and the well-tanned body.

The boy accompanied him on his final round of the evening. Then they made love in a passionate way. It was not as tempestuous as the previous night though, as the boy was still a bit tipsy from the port wine. There was no need for additional foreplay. Miles came deep and hard after a long steady fuck that he enjoyed thoroughly. Then they fell asleep in a tender embrace.

***

At nine the next morning, a committee meeting was called. Once again, there was much to discuss and disagree upon. Miles had brought Louise with him. Her presence was well justified and needed after the alert of the previous day. Also, he wanted her to join the committee, if only to shift slightly the balance and have at least one ally during those meetings.

Fisher started by a recap of what had been achieved, insisting, as usual, on his role and the progress of the companion system, his pet subject. His speech was mainly directed at his supporters but he was careful to avoid most of the issues that would put him in direct conflict with Dunn–only hinting at some of them: the refugee question notably.

As soon as Carl was done, Miles asked Louise to speak and give a detailed report of her mission and observations.

"As you all probably know, Greg and I came in contact with the ferals about eight miles [13 km] from here. They were heading west using the forest as cover, which made it rather difficult to accurately estimate their number without putting ourselves at serious risk. But several hundred seems likely, maybe as high as four hundred. Miles was right when he said they were organized. Their behavior evokes very much that of a hunting pack of animals. I've observed lions, gray wolves, hyenas and a few others that live and hunt as a pack; that's what I thought of while I was following them. They are not at all the mindless killers we have been told of, or have seen on a few occasions. They use scouts, even a rearguard; they don't fight each other. I could not stay long enough to learn more. I have no idea of their intent, their purpose: why they are going west, or if they'll keep going west; but at least for the moment that menace can be put aside. I also made a big sweep of the area all around the school and met with no other such group."

"Thank you, Louise, and Greg, you did very well," said Fisher.

"If there was one, though, there will be others and we must stay on alert. The lookout system is far from perfect and some of our boys have pitched me an idea, a much better one with drones that I hope we can implement quickly. It will help provide us better advance warning, but it will not prevent the devastating effect of a direct attack," said Miles.

"Do you really think that weaponless ferals could harm us? You have trained the boys, and we have weapons."

"Three hundred attacking the school, we would be harmed. They are not weaponless, they use what they find, nothing that is elaborate, but still lethal. There would be many casualties. We do not have weapons for everyone. Some of the kids are not reliable; we would have deaths from friendly fire. Many would run away and flee. Believe me I've been there, I know all there is to know on the matter. I estimate we have one hundred able fighters, nothing more than that at the moment, the others could use a weapon but not in an effective way. Nothing is guaranteed one way or the other."

"But they're not coming this way. What are the chances such a group finds us without knowing we're here – almost none."

"I would hope you're right, but that's not a chance I'd be willing to take. We need more weapons and more troops. I'm afraid ferals are not the only danger to our community. Let's recall what happened at the food depot. What happened as our world was crumbling. There could be very human groups looking for a place like this. Which brings us back to our refugee policy and our interaction with the outside world. We must bring more people here. Make contact with other communities, if there are some not too far from here, we need collaboration and information. There is such a group that settled at the food depot, we could easily bring them here and keep on bringing more provisions here."

"I will agree with you, Dunn, on more weapons and training of our troops. But I am still against opening our gates wide to some stray kids in search of a refuge. On the other hand, I would approve recruiting people with a talent or knowledge that we need, including boys old enough to hold a gun and help in our defense, but no one else. I could agree on sending you or Louise to bring back some of those."

"It is unlikely that we would find individuals. They would probably be in bands to have a chance to survive. We would need to welcome them all."

"I don't agree; you could make a proposal to those that interest us. I'm sure many would accept. We might take in immediate family members, maybe relatives, if any, and that's all."

"And we would leave the others, the little ones and younger kids to fend for themselves, with close to no chance of survival, condemning them to death!" rebelled Louise.

"I'm afraid so. It is survival of the fittest. Once again, we cannot take in those that would be a burden to us. We must protect our identity as an elite school, a place for those we deem worthy: the top echelon of society. Our boys have to feel they are part of something bigger, stronger. That they are special – privileged. The new recruits must not be too many and not really equals, 'till they've earned it." We must first bind our boys together as one entity, spirit, and perhaps later, when we are stronger, when Saint Xavier has become what I want it to be, and only then, should we consider taking in the less desirable, finding a use for them.

"And you think they'll accept that," insisted Louise.

"Human beings accept many things in the right circumstances. History is full of such stories. You just have to provide the right incentives."

Everyone saw that Carl was totally engrossed in his speech, on the brink of going much further than he had planned. Shirley, Greg, and Tools were exchanging looks, ready to stop him before he went too far, told too much. It was too early.

"I have a vision. Everything is possible in this world and I want it all, to fulfill my most extravagant dreams; not only mine but those of all the committee members; yours too, Dunn. I'm sure that like me you've never felt more alive. Finally you can be who you really are, savor what you had been forbidden to touch or even look upon for all of your adult life," Fisher suddenly realized he had been carried away and cut it short. "I propose that we put that refugee policy to a vote."

Miles spoke up, "I still don't agree and you'll have to tell me more about this vision you have. We can certainly vote. But before that, I would ask that Louise becomes a member of the committee."

"I do not object to it." Carl had no reason to oppose Dunn on that matter; it would not endanger his well-established majority and perhaps soften their disagreement, "Let's vote for that first. Since it concerns a person though, the custom is that the vote needs to be secret. Write yes or no on a piece of paper. Mister Collier will then collect your votes and tell us the result."

It took only a few minutes.

"Six yes, one no and one blank," announced Collier.

"Welcome to the committee, Louise. And now let's vote on that refugee policy and put that behind us. Those that support Mister Dunn's position raise… What's that noise?"

The alert bell was ringing, and everyone went to the windows. Miles and Louise left the room, the military man exclaiming, "A helicopter!"

A word several of them repeated together with incredulity.

They went to the central courtyard, in front of the administration building, looking at the sky to the northeast. Miles saw immediately that it was not a military chopper, but a civil one, sleek, modern, and rather large. Quite a few boys were there too, surrounding it, most with their hands raised to shield their eyes from the sun.

Miles was scanning the skies looking for others but saw none. The helicopter was circling around getting closer to the ground.

"It's looking for a place to land," Miles told Louise; they had been joined by Fisher and the others.

"Do you think we should get our guns, could it be an attack?" asked Fisher.

"No, I don't think there's a real menace. Perhaps we could send the word to the sentinels to be on alert, it could be a diversion." He gave a rapid look around, "You two, Mike, Lukas," he had spotted the two friends close by, "go tell everyone on the watch to be on their guard and not be focused on that chopper. Hurry up, and recruit a few more boys to help you."

"Yes, sir," Mike answered, a little bit sad that he could not stay to see what was to come next. They left at a run.

"I think it will land on the other side of the building. It's the best place for it."

"You're right, Tools. Let's go there."

He ran back inside taking the corridor to the nearest north exit, distancing the others that were following. Many more boys had gathered on that side to watch the event.

"Make room, make room! If you don't want to lose your head!" shouted Miles. "It needs a lot of space to land."

A young blond boy caught his sleeve.

"What do you want? You're Milo, I think? Right?"

"Yes, sir. It's Mister Thorvald, sir."

"What do you mean? Mister who?"

"Thorvald, sir, it's his helicopter, the X4. I recognize it. I piloted it for a bit when we came back from Six Flags."

"Yes, of course, Thorvald…." It all came back to him now. It felt like it had been ages ago though, in another time, another life.

At that moment, Fisher arrived, finally catching up with him, a little out of breath.

"What do you think Miles? Who could that be?"

"Well, your friend, Thorvald, of course."

Fisher was speechless looking at the helicopter, mouth open as it prepared to make its landing.

"Thorvald, I'll be damned if I expected that," he finally said.

In a great whirlwind, the aircraft made a graceful touch down, the deafening sound of the motor decreasing and then stopping to be replaced by the simple whistling of the rotor blades. As their rotation slowed down, the cabin door opened. Max was the first to exit, soon followed by two very pretty blond boys, brothers by their looks. Then it was the turn of Thorvald himself, and again two boys came with him, one Latino, and the other Asian. They were also quite striking and beautiful. That guy has taste, thought Miles.

***

Carl, more obsessed to satisfy his cravings than ever before, hoped his friend and longtime partner would agree to share those great specimens of boyhood.

But Carl was most of all delighted to have the opportunity for more support. He did not doubt Thorvald would adhere to his ultimate vision, even more important, he knew that with Max he had a perfect match for Dunn, someone who could easily face him in a conflict and then replace him: To supervise and improve their defenses, if it came to that.

Then there was the helicopter, which in itself appeared as a major asset, something that would need to be discussed due to its fuel consumption.

It was all quite incredible. You're a lucky guy, thought Carl. He had to make sure from this moment that things would go his way. He would do everything he could to please and be agreeable to the new arrivals: Starting right now.

They fell into each other's arms, which was not their usual habit.

"Thorvald, how good it is to see you, after all this time. It's great that you made it through. We should have stayed in contact. Why didn't I think of it? We have satellite phones that still work."

"We ourselves were not sure the school was still here. It is a strange harsh world now," answered Thorvald, clearly relieved to be welcomed by Fisher in person and to see the place in good shape.

"Mister Thorvald!" it was Milo, who jumped into the man's arms.

"Dear boy, how happy I am to see you."

The man, in fact, was rather embarrassed by the boyish enthusiasm of the lovely lad who reached up to kiss him on the mouth in a very compromising way.

"Don't worry, Ivor," said Carl, "a lot has changed around here. I am the new headmaster, and there is no more need to hide who we are and what we do. Believe it or not, it is now well known and accepted. I would even say that by now more than half of the boys and adults have adopted our views."

"Hard to believe, indeed," answered Ivor, who nonetheless tried to temper Milo's attempts for more contact. "Give me some time to catch my breath, Milo, please. I see many faces I know, Anthony, Sean, Riichi… Greg. They are all here, it means you did not lose too many of the boys?"

"Not too many, fortunately, but we did lose most of the teachers and staff. There are very few of us now. That's why I find it quite extraordinary to see Max here by your side. How are you Max? I see you were ready for any occurrence?"

The young sturdy man was imposing, taller than Dunn. His muscles perfectly visible and well defined under his tee shirt, he was wearing a gun on each side and a long knife, almost a machete in a sheath along his left leg.

"I'm fine. As Ivor said, we did not know what we would find here. I made a few forays outside these last weeks and I know it is better to be prepared. What we saw on our way here won't change my mind." He had a very slight accent, almost imperceptible.

"Yes, we certainly have a lot to tell each other, but perhaps l should introduce you to a few people you might not know yet. Ivor, this is Miles Dunn, an ex-major in the marines, we have spoken about him over the phone. He was our new security adviser, before the flu hit us. Without him, we probably would not be in such good shape here. He warned us and was very effective in helping us prepare for the worst."

"Thank you, Carl. Nice to meet the both of you," said Miles, shaking hands with the two men.

"Then there is Louise Simons, now a committee member, you know of her and her reputation. She has shown us a very different set of abilities since the beginning of this crisis. She's been a great help all along and knows how to use a gun. Here is Mister Tools, in charge of literature who delighted us with his plays every year. Thanks to the recent events – you don't mind if I say so, Raymond – he has discovered a more carnal passion for boys. He has also joined our committee, and I'll explain his role later. You know Shirley; she logically takes care of all things related to the health of our boys, the Shanxi flu and runs the infirmary. But I keep on talking; you must be tired. Let's go to my apartment for some fresh air and drinks, we will continue our conversation and see where we can settle you in comfortably. Dunn, I propose we meet again at lunch for a more serious talk. We have a lot to catch up on. We'll let them relax for a bit first."

"We could resume our committee session later this afternoon," suggested Miles.

"Excellent idea, Ivor will certainly have information we can use. I propose that he joins us as a committee member, as we did for Louise, earlier, if he is willing to. But we'll discuss all that and more during lunch."

"I'll secure the helicopter and get some of our belongings, and then I'll join you," said Max.

"As you wish Max, get a feel of the place. Take your time. Anthony, Riichi: help him and show him around. Okay?"

The two boys acquiesced and came to the big man's side who patted their heads. They were both obviously well known by him.

"Let's go Ivor, you know the way," said Carl, before turning his attention to the new boys who had stayed back near the chopper, intimidated by the crowd around them and not sure of their status. Carl had not forgotten about them, he wanted to have a much closer look and certainly more, if possible. They were all strangers to him, even Ivor's houseboys, due to their recent acquisition. He did have experience with the previous ones though, and was anticipating having a taste of them. With some luck, and he had a lot lately, Ivor would be occupied with Milo, or some other of Carl's own catamites and would not object. "Come on boys; come with us 'till we know what we're going to do with you." He rather liked the double meaning of his sentence.

Miles could not resist adding, "Aren't they considered refugees? What will be their use?"

"Our pleasure, of course, what else," answered Carl, with a smile, driving them ahead of him and behind Ivor who had his arm draped across Milo's shoulders.

He made a discreet sign for Tools to follow and then placed himself between the two blond brothers, putting a hand over each boy's shoulders, mimicking Ivor. They did look adorable with blemish free skin, perfect shapes and were so much alike, almost like twins in different sizes. They appeared also quite savvy of their appeal and the man's intentions, which was not really surprising since they had spent some time at the mansion.

"And what are your names, you pretty things?"

"I'm Eli and this is Connor my brother. But you probably guessed, people often think we're twins." They were American boys and in Carl's opinion from the upper class, from the way they were talking and behaving.

"Where did you find them Ivor? Are they trained?"

"They are the sons of people I knew. Max fetched them for me. I had made a list for him of places to check. I was depressed and wanted the distraction. They've been very amenable and probably know all there is to know. There was not much to do these last weeks except enjoy them."

"You must have had a good time."

"I would not call it that. Well it was nice compensation for rescuing them, but I'm sure you weren't idle either."

They were reaching Fisher's apartment.

"Come in, I'll put on the air conditioning. Yes, I did benefit from my position and even improved on it as I suggested. But I want it to get even better for us, and now that you are here with Max I think all our past dreams can become a reality."

***

They had settled on chairs and a convenient couch. Carl had distributed fresh beers all around; the stifling heat was being chased by a cool breeze that came from the air conditioning vents.

"Nothing's better than some comfort with a few boys by your side, ready to satisfy your needs."

"That has never been truer than today, Carl."

Both men and Tools were each surrounded by up to three boys. Carl had picked the two brothers and Enrico; he could not reasonably put him aside. Thorvald was surrounded by two of his friend's new catamites, though Milo, sitting on his knees, was set on monopolizing his attention, and Tools had inherited the two more exotic ones. As they sipped their beer in silence, they were all examining the offered delicacies.

"I hope you won't mind sharing your finds, Ivor. I'm quite ready to lend you those two. They are still rather new to the trade but very obedient."

"Of course, you are free to try them; that's the least I can do to repay you for your welcome. You don't mind entertaining my friend, Carl; do you, boys? For myself, I think I'll be happy with Milo. We will see later about the others."

"As you wish." Carl had not considered, even for a moment, asking for the boys' consent. "From now on, I think we shall have a lot in common. We need to resume our collaboration, find ways to improve on it."

"I must say that I had stopped thinking about the future for some time now. I have lost so much. But seeing you so full of enthusiasm, seeing how you managed to hold the school together, having young Milo in my arms gives me hope that a future is possible. I'm quite ready to help you in any way I can."

"I won't bother you with details now," Carl said. "We'll have time for that later."

Carl wanted to go step-by-step. He knew Thorvald's views on how to develop their community could be closer to those of Dunn than his own. He had to find the best angle to make the man his ally. And with him, get the support of Max.

"For the moment, let's just say that I have been able to establish the foundations of a community where our differences, our sexual orientation, is accepted and even favored. I must say there has been very little resistance. I created the companion system where the older boys are paired with the younger ones. It has been very successful. It is based on free choice and sex is not a required part of the relationship, but very much encouraged and adopted by most."

"In such a short time!"

"I had the club to help show the way, it was very useful in different ways. I had to use some subterfuges too. Of course, the fact that Dunn was one of us was of great benefit."

"I'm surprised he is too. It doesn't show."

"I had my suspicions from the start. I've worked in schools all my life, and I can feel those kinds of things."

"So how can I help, Carl?"

"I see two rather simple issues to begin with. First, the helicopter, it would be a great asset if we could use it: either for surveillance or defense."

"I see no objection to it but we will have a problem with the fuel, it needs kerosene and we only have one or two hours of flight left. For more we would have to find a place where we could refuel, an airport most likely. Also, there are some technical difficulties that Max and I haven't been able to resolve."

"We will work on it. I'm sure a solution can be found."

"What is the second issue?"

"This one is a more delicate one. Enrico, Milo, could you take our new guests to the game room?"

"Can't I stay with Ivor?" pleaded Milo. Those two really got along well and even the man had some difficulty letting go of the boy's hand.

"It won't be for long, Milo. We'll call you back as soon as we are done. Go," he said.

The boys left, leaving the three men alone.

"I didn't want them to hear what I have to say, Ivor. It is no big deal, but you know how what someone says can be distorted. Dunn and I have some different views on how to run things here. Which is too bad, because as I told you before, I don't know if the school would still be here without him. We do disagree on some major points, with him and Louise, in fact. Since they are the two most capable persons to ensure our survival on the security issues, this represents a major problem. We formed a committee and we vote, but he knows we are no match for him and does not always implement our decisions."

"But what do you disagree upon?" Thorvald wanted to know.

"You are a businessman, and you know that sometimes you have to make difficult decisions, even if it costs you, even if you disagree. Dunn, despite his military background, doesn't really understand that. He wants us to take in all of the people that need help in the area, notably all of the stray boys running around. He already took in quite a few. I am not a heartless man, but we need to set priorities if we're to make it through this complete collapse of society. The first priority is to secure the future of our school and our own students from the dangers that exist outside our grounds. I then considered the progress we've made here, what we've achieved as boylovers: no longer will we be ostracized by society, hiding in fear, unable to pursue our dreams. This victory is still fragile, it could be short lived. Taking in complete strangers could jeopardize all of our accomplishments. We could lose control, again be considered degenerates, scorned and punished for who we are."

Carl paused for effect, sipping his drink before continuing, "For now, I would simply ask that you join the committee and support us with your vote. Perhaps, also, ask Max to keep an eye on Dunn and Miss Simons. He should be wary of them, and keep us informed. I don't think there is a real risk of conflict, but if they know Max is on our side, then it would help us to keep them in line.

"I'll be staying here; I don't have any intention of going back to my estate. So it seems reasonable that I join the committee, watch, and listen. It is important that I understand how things work here, know the goals and objectives. With the challenges we face, I agree that it is vital that we all work together and avoid any unnecessary clashes."

"Good, I was certain I could count on you. I propose that you settle in one of the unoccupied apartments in the Teacher's House. It is mostly vacant now; you'll have a large choice. We will see if we can get you some air conditioning, we must have a few solar panels we can make available for you. We still have fresh running water, but you should avoid drinking it. At some point, it may become more or less stagnant in the main water lines. Tools will take you there as soon as Max joins us. I'm curious to see what our boys are up to in the game room. I must show it to you and a few other things that I set up to get the support of most of the students. We are on our way to great things, I can tell you."

***

Max was doing his job, making sure that Thorvald was safe, and that their choice to move to Saint Xavier was the right one. After checking the chopper and shooing away the curious boys who were coming too close, he took out two bags, one for Anthony to carry, a second one for Riichi and a third one for himself. That one contained a few more weapons and things Max considered precious to him, it was rather heavy.

"Ok, boys, show me the way." He knew them both, as they had each visited the mansion a few times. They were good kids. "How is it going here, boys? What can you tell me?"

Anthony was the first to talk.

"We're doing fine. We learned how to use guns like yours and even bigger ones. It's Mister Dunn and Louise that are teaching us."

Riichi followed up with, "There was a fight yesterday at the Conner farm, boys against ferals. Mister Dunn saved the day. It was not only a few of them, I was told there were several hundred, we were on alert all day, everybody was worried."

"Several hundred? Where is that Conner farm?"

"Not far, only a few miles. We had attacks inside the school, twice, but it was at the beginning, before Mister Dunn set the new rules and taught us how to defend ourselves."

"That Dunn fellow, he seems to do everything here."

"Of course not, there's Mister Fisher too, he is the headmaster. Thanks to him, we don't have to keep the club a secret anymore. And 'most everybody is part of it now."

"What do you mean, Riichi?"

"Well, he invented that companion system and told us to advertise it: I mean show the others what they can do with their dicks. It wasn't difficult and some of us have been at it a lot. Ain't it so Anthony? How many did you score with? He loves it!"

Anthony had slightly reddened; it was true; he had been at it a lot, tasting the older and younger boys, still undecided as to which he preferred. He had been so busy most evenings and sometimes during the day that he seldom had time to lie down with Dunn and Sven again. He promised himself he would do it soon.

"You exaggerate Riichi. You're much in demand yourself."

"That's true, and there are advantages. There's the game room, access to movies, electricity for your cell phone, computer… Less chores. Mister Fisher knows how to reward you."

"You have power?"

"Yes, some, there's the generators and then the solar panels. But it's not for everybody and otherwise only for important tasks or as rewards. Also, there is no more hot water! Well, with the weather that's not a big problem. We will see when winter comes."

"What about the food, is there enough?"

"Nothing to worry about, it's not as varied as it was, but no one's hungry. We went out to a food depot once, but it did not end well. The world's crazy out there."

"What happened, Anthony?"

"As we were loading the truck, the soldiers started to fight each other. No one understood why they did that. We had to leave in a hurry to avoid the crossfire, we had to go through a different path and we got surprised by ferals, I fell and sprained my ankle, that's when Sven came to my rescue."

"Sven?"

"Yes, he is Mister Dunn's boy."

"Not the only one," said Riichi.

"Yes, I'm with Dunn too. But that's not the same for me. I was on a mission. I can tell you since you're on our side. Mister Fisher had set a trap for Dunn: that was me. He was afraid for the club. The guy, Dunn, is rather nice, but my loyalty is to the club, the school." Anthony was not sure how to play it right, but since Thorvald worked with Fisher, he thought it smart to tell Max that side of the story. If repeated, it would reinforce his position with Carl. Riichi showed some surprise at his words; he was a talker, it would go around some.

"What about water?"

"We still have running water. Abrams said it could run for years. Then for drinking water there are three wells on the school grounds, it comes from there, but a lot of boys still drink it from the tap with no problems, so far."

As he was listening to the boys, Max was looking around. The school was in good order; there were armed sentinels, probably prefects. Boys were everywhere, most occupied with chores, some playing. A few of the older ones were rather pleasing to the eye, still a bit young for him but they would do fine. They could make their life here, definitely. The only question was how he would get along with that Dunn fellow. It seemed he had done a good job so far. From experience, Max knew that a competition between them was inevitable. He compared his situation to the one he had known at the orphanage, and knew that it was better to be on top. He would bide his time for now, and leave the politics to Fisher and Ivor. If it came to it, Dunn would have to step down or go.

***

During lunch, a lot was discussed and Miles got to know Thorvald and his shadow Max better. Thorvald seemed intelligent and a decent man, Miles hoped he would adopt his views for the future of the school and help him convince Fisher. The others were followers and would not object to whatever direction Fisher set, except perhaps Shirley. Before going to the committee meeting Miles left them and decided to go visit Abrams. He would have a lot to tell him and it could distract the man from his current situation, for a time at least.

When he entered the gymnasium, he was surprised to see the empty beds. It seemed there were only two boys on duty, who appeared troubled by his arrival. He called to one.

"Where is Abrams?"

"Abrams?"

"Yes, Abrams. Everybody knows him here. He was in this bed yesterday evening. Was he released? It wasn't the Shanxi flu?" That was too good to be true, it was wishful thinking, but what else could it be.

The second boy joined them, Harvey, one of the shop incident boys.

"He died." It was a dry and flat statement without emotion or sympathy.

"What do you mean he died? He was here for only two days. How can that be?"

"I wasn't here, I just know there were complications and he died." The boy exchanged a glance with the other; Miles didn't like it at all.

"Where's the body?"

"Buried, of course."

"You're kidding me?"

"I don't know."

"There were two others here yesterday, one boy, and Torrey, are they dead too?"

There was no answer.

"Miss Cahill will have to give me some good explanations. It would be better for her that her story meets the facts." Miles was enraged and desperate at the same time. He stormed out of the place. He had let Abrams die alone. He had done nothing for his friend.

He had known for some time that something fishy was going on in there but he had been too busy to give it much thought or time. After all, those that went in never came out. What happened in there was Shirley's concern. To tell the truth no one wanted to go there or meddle with her affairs. It was too depressing. He was like the rest, but with Abrams it was a different matter, he had to get his answers and act accordingly, if only to soothe his anger at losing a friend.

Miles would confront Shirley in a very short time, he didn't know if he could control himself when face to face with her. The committee was to start in a few minutes and he went to the school cemetery to say his goodbyes to Abrams. There were a few fresh mounds, and he assumed Abrams was buried under one of those. There were no signs, no names, which was one more cause to fuel his anger. Louise joined him shortly in front of the administration building, and soon, she too was in the same mood as Miles. They went in together.

***

"Walt, I need to talk to you," said Anthony.

The prefect was reading in the sun, taking advantage of a moment of rest between two sessions of training of the younger boys.

"What's the matter?" he answered, putting down his book and feeling the tone of urgency in the boy's voice.

"I think there's some trap that has been set for Dunn and Simons during the committee meeting."

"A trap?"

"Or worse, I haven't been able to warn them, I was too late."

"Is it that serious?"

"I hope not, but I saw some of Shirley's boys from the infirmary and some of Greg's buddies, Seku among them, all with guns close to the meeting room, waiting for – I don't know what. We got to do something!"

Walt looked around, most of Dunn's warriors were there playing, resting. They had been training with white weapons, knives of all kinds and others but nothing they could reasonably use to face guns.

"Gather the boys who can be trusted and join me at the armory, I think Cruise is there with Melvin Furst. I should be able to get us some weapons; I'll say it is for training purposes."

"Do you think we'll have to fight?"

"I certainly hope not, but we need to be ready. I think that showing our presence will be enough."

Fifteen minutes later, ten armed boys were following Walt as he entered the Administration building, the core of Dunn's warriors: William, Sven, Anthony, the Edwards' twins, Matthew, Bob, and Johnny, along with two more recent additions, Arthur and Mike Healy.

They met with Sam Lewis who as soon as he saw them went up the stairs. There was a welcoming party when they reached the second floor, among them Omar Seku and Harvey van Huys who had not forgotten the standoff at the shop and were now facing a similar situation. The two groups were of about the same number measuring each other, no words were exchanged this time. Walt's boys were certainly the youngest but probably also the most determined.

***

There was electricity in the air. The committee was about to start, oblivious of what was going on beyond the meeting room doors.

Miles was determined to get the truth during the next two hours. Louise was by his side.

"Everybody is here, let's start. We have a new member that I invited to join us," announced Fisher.

Miles did not let him go further.

"I want to know what happened to Abrams and the others at the infirmary. I want to know what Shirley has to say," Miles' tone was cold and intimidating; his statement was followed by silence.

Shirley had visited Fisher early in the morning. She had been nervous and embarrassed. She had told Carl that Abrams had seen through their game and understood that they had poisoned one of the sick boys some time after he got there. He had been very loud about his deductions, alerting the other two 'patients'. She had had no other choice than to finish with all of them before word got out, which she did. Now she had to find an explanation for Dunn. Which was not easy. Carl had known for some time what was going on at the infirmary, thanks to his discussions with the nurse, not the specifics, but enough to have a clear idea. He had approved of it with his silence. Now was the time to acknowledge the choices they had made and face Dunn. The presence of Ivor made it more delicate, but he had anticipated the problem and exposed his version of the facts to him and Max as soon as Dunn had left them after lunch, taking a second step towards bringing them to his side. Max had been surprisingly of great help to him, explaining to Ivor that they were not in the old world anymore, and that he approved of Shirley's decision. They had no resources to waste on lost causes. Carl had welcomed the unexpected support, it bode well for the future… His vision of the future that is. To his surprise, Ivor let himself be easily convinced, he looked tired, distracted, almost absent. Carl was confident he would win this confrontation and was ready to go as far as he could.

"I'm sorry Miles, we should have told you before, asked you even. We decided with Shirley and some other members of the committee to offer a peaceful end to all the victims of the flu. Since their last days were painful, and you'll certainly agree, dangerous for the volunteers at the infirmary, we decided to end their suffering as soon as the symptoms were clear. Then with the feral alert, we thought it was the right thing to do at that moment. No one knew what we would have to face and we wanted to be in a position to mobilize all of our resources if we were under attack."

"What? Bullshit! And you did that without even consulting me. You let them bury Abrams without telling us? That is unacceptable. Shirley is not qualified to say who will die or when, the same for you."

"I know, it was wrong, but I didn't want to distract you from your work, you have been very busy these last days. We were on alert yesterday and we still are."

"Do you really think I'll accept that?" Miles was speechless, how could Carl hope to settle the problem with such lame excuses and motivations. It was ludicrous.

"Yes, I do. The whole committee is with me. Ivor stands by my side too. You will have to bend to our decisions. You cannot go against the majority."

Carl wasn't making excuses anymore, he was going head to head with Miles, it would work, or it would break. He had weighed the risks and thought he had a good chance of winning, given the circumstances. What alternatives did Dunn have? None.

Shirley's brigade and Omar Seku with a few select prefects were close by, ready to step in if it got out of control. Ivor and Max were there as witnesses. It was the best moment to move forward, take the advantage. It could be decisive. There was more to come.

"I don't see this committee as a manifestation of democracy, Fisher, in any way, but go ahead, I'm curious to see how far you'll go."

"I told you this morning, I have a vision for this place, one that you can certainly agree on, considering your background. We have so much in common. I want the best for Saint Xavier, but not for the rest of the world. I want to take in all those who can be of use, but I don't plan to open our doors to any more refugees as you call them. I want to make a world in our image where our difference is revered and desired."

"Where do I fit in, in this new world of yours?" questioned Louise.

"You are one of us Louise. You have contributed to our survival probably more than most of us here. We owe you more than we will ever be able to repay you. Your place is among us, we need you. If we find an agreement, you'll fit in very well. I don't see why it would not be so."

Miles was cornered. He had not lost but was getting there and knew it. He had to save whatever he could.

"Let's put the cards on the table then," he said. "First, no more decisions taken behind our back: No more peaceful killing by Shirley, which is nothing else but murder," he shot her a disgusted look. "Second, I still disagree with your refugee policy, notably after the events of the previous day. There are only three hundred of us here. We don't stand a chance if we are attacked by a horde such as the one we saw yesterday. Perhaps we could win, but at what price, with how many casualties? And this is probably not the only menace that we might have to face in the future. We need bigger numbers, to make contact with other groups, and we need to find allies to recreate a semblance of order in the surrounding cities."

"What you say is true, Dunn. But all that will have to wait until we have achieved and secured our goals here. Democracy, as you've more or less said, is a thing of the past, this committee is our government; there will be no election. We decide for our community: It will become our tool to shape the future the way we want it to be. It is already working. We are greatly helped by the circumstances. I've been in hiding all of my life: you know the feeling, but not anymore. Everyone around this table agrees with me for very similar or sometimes different reasons, but we all have something to gain from it. We want to use this opportunity to turn the tables. We decide, we say what is right or wrong, we don't ask anymore, we do as it pleases us."

"All that is a big stretch for me; and those people we take in, who are they? What are their uses?"

"First, those that have a talent, knowledge, or skill that would help the community: We could do with a farmer, a doctor, an electrician, engineers in different specialties, all adults, of course, and not too easy to find. We might need more troops too, as you said, and so recruit older teens. But why would they come to our aid and help us? You will ask. It is because we provide security first of all, and not only that…"

"Which means?" said Louise.

"That's probably the difficult part. I won't be hypocritical. I don't really care for the future of humanity. But I do care about Saint Xavier, my own survival and guaranteed access to boys with the freedom to satisfy my desires. Everyone around this table has needs they want to fulfill. That's what brings us together. We would have to provide, to a lesser degree, the same to those that agree to join us, apart from the basics of food, shelter, electricity, and weapons. They would need to feel a part of our community, and for most of them, it will be girls and women, which are rare and valuable, and for some it might be boys. We don't have the first and we don't want to offer our boys for the second. Therefore, we will have to find women, girls, and boys outside our gates to fulfill the needs of those we take in. We will provide them with food, shelter, and security, and in return, they will satisfy the needs of our members."

"What kind of people would accept that deal?" said Louise, appalled.

"Most people, Louise, believe me. I think you both have way too high of an opinion of human nature. Look what has happened here. What have many of our boys done for access to a game room; charge their phone battery, a semblance of security. This is the new world we live in."

"And what agreement do you plan to have with those girls and boys, if any?"

"Well, it is clear that at first they will not be too happy. But I am sure that soon they will see that they serve the community and that we protect and care for them, in a way. Think of what their life would be like outside our walls."

"In fact what you describe is a dictatorship and the return of slavery," said Miles.

"Those are harsh terms, but I think they could apply."

"And you think we could agree with that?" Louise and Miles were dumbfounded by what they heard. They had never thought Carl would throw it all at them without reserve. They did not know how to respond. They were less prepared than they thought.

"What choice do you have? Take a few of your boys and risk their lives in the outside world. Or stay with us and be a part of the ruling class with all the advantages that go with it. You have already tasted some of those privileges, Miles. Think of all the possibilities. For you, Louise, my proposition must be much less appealing. However joining us would give you the opportunity to stay close to your students. I know they are of the utmost importance to you, even if you have never showed your feelings for them. You would be able to watch over them, keep on protecting them from the dangers they will face."

"From you!" replied Louise to his tirade.

As Carl continued talking, and Miles no longer cared to listen, his thoughts drifted back to his small room that same morning, Sven lying by his side slowly waking up with a smile of contentment and happiness. They had made love in abandonment and trust for a large part of the night. He was hearing Bob and Matthew laughing in the corridor, some of the other kids arguing. Was he ready to risk losing it all for principles? There was no need to decide right away. Nothing was really set. As a last resort, if things deteriorated further, he had Perry's information. They could go and leave Carl with his megalomaniac dreams. He hated the idea though. There were many good kids at Saint Xavier who did not deserve that fate. It looked like the arrival of Thorvald had been the trigger and had given Carl the nerve to go all the way, which he hadn't been able to do that same morning. He had to try again, to take back the advantage.

"Thorvald, what do you think of that? It does not look like something you would approve from what I heard about you and our conversation at lunch."

"That's kind of you to say, Dunn. But I just arrived, my position is biased, I've been a partner with Carl for many years, he has always been reliable and made the right decisions. Your differing positions may not be reconcilable. We are in a very special setup, thanks to him, where we can express freely our feelings and love of boys. Would that hold if we opened our doors to hundreds of people even if they were mostly children? I must say, I am rather adverse to the idea of slaves, and what it implies, but the status of the two colored boys that came with me is very close to that. I try to be kind and considerate with them, and in the past, I always provided for their future when they left. You may not know it, but Max was one such boy at the beginning. When, at the same time, I could have mistreated them and thrown them away when they ceased to be appealing to me, if I so decided, or even worse. So I am divided. My proposal is that we work on finding a compromise between you, which would be acceptable by all parties."

Ivor did not feel well, was it the trip, his depression that caught up with him. He did not know. All he wanted was to rest and lie down with Milo, he did not even think of sex. Just enjoy his presence and cuddle.

"That seems very reasonable. We can have a first vote now and we will work on a compromise for the next committee meeting," said Carl, who tried to hide his satisfaction. He already knew what the result would be. "We have many other matters on our agenda."

There was nothing to add, at that moment Miles and Louise had no choice but to accept the vote. What would come after was another story.

***

Carl was exultant. He had won the confrontation. There had not been that much resistance from Dunn and Simons. He was on his way to bringing his vision to reality. The compromise would only be a way to assuage their fears while he set everything in motion. He would also use it to try to have access to all of Perry's information. Offer whatever false promises were necessary, as compensation for it. The bits that Anthony had been able to gain access to were way too fragmented and scant. There was more, and if he obtained that, it could make a big difference.

Still, he had asked Tools to tell Anthony to watch them and warn him of any complication, you could never be too cautious. Greg and his gang would keep a close eye on them too.

Then there was Max. He had been invaluable in bringing Ivor to his side. He had reverted to the survivalist mode that he had learned as a boy in Ukrainian orphanages. He would be a formidable tool in his tug of war with Dunn and in many other areas. He was tough and ruthless, and he would stop at nothing to ensure Ivor's survival and well-being. He deeply loved the man and showed a more gentle character when with him. His brutal and unyielding nature had been mostly dormant, before the crisis, but now was evident.

As they had left the committee room, Carl had seen the armed boys in the corridors, and it was clear there had been a standoff there too. Perhaps Dunn was more clever and cautious than he had thought. Nonetheless, he had won that first bout and had more assets up his sleeve than the ex-marine. Dunn's supporters were few and very young. They would be no match for his own troops.

Dunn had no more choices. If he was reasonable he would take, willing or not, what had been offered. He would not be happy but given time and unlimited access to any boy he could fancy, he would come to the conclusion that he had more to gain with Carl and a lot to lose if he chose a confrontation. It was in everyone's best interest that a compromise be found.

Now it was time for some fun. He had herded back Eli and Connor to his apartment with Enrico in tow. His excitement was at its peak. He was reviewing all the possibilities, all the ideas he wanted to see these two perform for him. Max had said the only restriction was not to hurt them. Maybe he saw the cruel streak in Carl's eyes. It showed sometimes since his dealings with Cole. The two brothers looked so perfect together that his first desire was, indeed, to hurt them, to break them. They were not Saint Xavier boys, it did not matter what he did with them. But that would not be possible yet. Ivor had some moral principles or put simply he would dislike seeing Carl misuse them, was he attached to them? No doubt, it was better to spare them any mistreatment… For now.

Enrico for the first time seemed a bit jealous of the two brothers; he felt the strong appeal they had for Carl. Their light blond hair was of medium length with some curls here and there; their eyes were of a deep blue, framed by long eyelashes. They had a bronze complexion, high cheekbones, and superb white teeth of the exact right size. They were long limbed but not gangly with the perfect amount of flesh to adorn them. Even with their brightly colored shorts still on, he could discern the well-shaped pert bottoms that could, in other circumstance, call for some hard spanking. Whatever he did, his thoughts came back to all the ugly things he could do to them. They were smiling, making poses, totally unaware of Carl's frame of mind, which made him all the more aroused. He would have to settle for more routine action. He did not want to jeopardize his relation with Ivor when he was about to triumph. He needed to get a hold of himself. He was getting complacent and too indulging with himself: too obsessed with his past frustration and the accomplishments to come. He was too eager, that could be his downfall. He knew it, but still… That is what drove him forward.

What made them so special besides everything else was their likeness: one, the bigger version of the other. He would need to execute a closer inspection to try to identify some differences once he had been sufficiently entertained.

Perhaps he could not hurt them, but he could still enjoy them in many ways. He would not let that restriction spoil his pleasure.

"Well boys. I believe you know what is expected of you. If we took your clothes off, what little you have on, that is?"

Immediately they started to pull off their tee shirts. Max had told him that, from the start, even before he had brought them to the mansion, he had lectured them on what would be expected of them. And what would happen if they did not comply. The few weeks they had spent alone, hungry and afraid, what they had seen in the streets had easily convinced them.

"Wait, wait, dear ones let me do it for you. You don't want to take that treat from me."

He started with the younger one pulling up the tank top slowly exposing his taut belly, caressing it and exploring the surface, reaching up to the small nipples, making incursions under the waistband of his blue shorts, pushing the tissue downward. He observed that the skin almost did not change color. They had certainly done a lot of skinny-dipping at the mansion. He unsnapped the button and pulled down the zipper just enough to give him access to the boy's genitals. The boy was getting hard; it was too easy, he played with the little cocklet, no more than three inches [7.5 cm] long and still hidden under his underwear. Carl took off his own shirt, then his slacks and underwear, pulling off his shoes in the same movement. He motioned for Enrico to come take care of his own raging hard on.

"Do you know how to kiss, boys?" he asked, naked in front of the still clothed boys.

They looked at each other with a smirk. Of course they knew how to kiss.

"Yes sir, we do," answered the older, Eli.

"Then show me, kiss your brother. Make a good job of it."

He watched their performance closely while pulling off Connor's shorts, getting a good feel of the boy's legs on the way, savoring the smooth skin and supple flesh.

"Lovely," he commented, while turning his attention and playing with the covered older boy's ass. "Keep at it. I bet you like it."

"Enrico, go to the game room while I finish with these two," Carl told him. The boy was clearly displeased to be discarded that way. He had done his best to please the man and kept bobbing his head up and down. Carl pulled him off his gorged cock. "I said go! Listen to me."

The scene elicited a strange look between the two brothers who stopped kissing for a moment.

Enrico's reaction and the boys unease was gratifying for Carl, it seemed his recent achievement had awakened his worst instincts. He could not resist it. He waited for Enrico to leave the room then resumed playing with the offered full and welcoming mounds hidden by the thin material.

"Let's put you on the bed darlings."

He positioned them one on top of the other, the younger on the bed facing his brother, still kissing and rubbing their bodies suggestively. The legs of their shorts were rather loose and he slipped his hand inside and beneath Eli's underwear to reach his goal. The child's pucker was there, and ready to be busted. He pushed aside the fabric of the shorts and underwear for easier access, positioning the boy and testing the soft ring's resistance, then brought forward his member, slick with precum and saliva.

"Let's score a first goal!" he exclaimed as he pushed in steadily and entered the boy, still with his shorts on, through the leg, without further warning.

The boy, taken by surprise, let out a small cry.

"Come on kid, you know the turf, relax." He was careful not to bring unnecessary pain but was very happy at the surprise effect. He loved the tightness of the hole as well as the friction against the fabric, overall a great combination.

He kept at it for some time, the two boys crushed under him, still kissing, but getting tired of it and uncomfortable. The man's hands roamed over their bodies while his mouth and tongue worked the same way over their faces.

Finally he disengaged and finished undressing them, exposing their perfection and beauty. He would make it last with those two for as long as it was possible.

"Eli, get that green bottle on the desk and come take Enrico's place. I want to try your other end, and then I'll fuck your brother."

"But, that's dirty. You've just been in my butt."

"Dirty? No. Don't worry." He picked up the boy's underwear and wiped his cock with it, "See, it's all clean now, as good as new. Come on, get me my pills and get it in your mouth, see how good it tastes."

The boy was not convinced, but did not dare to complain. As soon as he got them, Carl gobbled two Viagra pills. It was probably unreasonable but he had earned the right for some celebration. And celebrate he did.

***

Miles was fuming and Louise was furious. They had known it would come, they had prepared. But in the end, they had felt helpless with only bad solutions to choose from.

They were in Louise's apartment with Walt, Anthony, and Sven. The news of Abrams death had made the rounds by now and the boys were rather down.

"We are losing, Louise, and Carl knows it. We only have bad alternatives. We can capitulate. I don't believe in that compromise they talked of, just a way to gain time, a way to distract us while they get stronger, like Shirley did with Abrams and how many others, right under our nose. Or we fight but that becomes a cruel option, probably a blood bath. It could have started today if we had not agreed to the vote. Carl had prepared for it. We did not. If Anthony had not alerted Walt we would have been defenseless, it could have been over right then.

"The other option is to leave, but that's not the best one either. If the ferals become organized with such numbers, we would need to find a community to welcome us. We've had close to no contact on the radio so far, nothing in our area. Or else we could try to reach one of those compounds shown on Perry's maps."

"There's the group we left at the food depot?" said Walt.

"If they are still there, it would rather be us coming to their rescue than the other way around," answered Louise.

"Do you think Carl would let us go?" asked Sven.

"A good question. I think it would depend on how many we took with us. What we gave him in exchange."

"Perry's information?"

"Yes, Louise, not all of it, though. I made a second key without the stuff I want to keep for myself. I don't want Fisher to know where he can find us, now or later."

"You're right he is changing, before he was despicable, I think he is becoming downright dangerous. He wants to run the school like he did the club but without any restraint or scruples this time."

"I could try to speak with Ivor, he likes me. Have him change his mind. We would have Max on our side," suggested Anthony.

"That's probably worth a try. He is the one with Max that tipped the scales in Carl's favor. Do you think it could work?" asked Miles to the boy.

"I don't know. He was different today, Max too, but he is a good man, he always treated us well. Even those houseboys, as he called them, that he had at the mansion, they had the good life; he cared for them, that's what I saw and what I was told, at least."

"Louise?"

"We have to talk to him, for sure. But it should be you, Miles, or me. If Anthony spoke for us, it would be the end of his cover. I don't have much hope though. What I saw today with those houseboys isn't too much different from Fisher's vision as I see it–they were his catamites, there to serve him. "

"You're right on both accounts. I'll go see him. In any case, we must prepare for all the options. Anthony, Carl is certainly having us watched by more than you. He is of the kind who double checks everything. I will have to do it quietly and not put you at risk."

"And what do I tell him? I've got to do my report," said the boy.

"As usual, better stick with the truth as much as possible. Tell him we are angry, confused, defeated. That we're waiting to see what compromise he has to offer. That we would prefer to stay but that we're thinking of giving him Perry's information if he lets us go."

"Easy."

"Don't overdo it, say as little as possible, let him fill the gaps by himself, he'll love that."

"I can do it."

"I'm sure you'll be perfect."

"I'd better go see Thorvald now. I saw Max leaving with Tools. He'll be alone."

"He's with Milo," corrected Anthony.

"Then perhaps I should go with Sven. If he is like me, a pretty young boy's presence could help him listen to my story."

"Not a bad idea, Miles. He took the apartment at the end of the corridor."

"Let's go, Sven."

***

Thorvald was hot. He was sweating profusely. Max had gone with Tools to see if they could fix the air conditioning. He felt nauseous, wasted, when he should feel relaxed and satisfied. They had been welcomed, offered all they could hope for. Carl was in charge and seemingly ready to do anything to please him.

Something was wrong. Was he sick? That was the question that sapped all of his thoughts. He had found it difficult to concentrate anyway. Perhaps it was nothing and he would be in good shape by morning or perhaps… No that was too much to contemplate, but the thought would not let go.

Milo had been trying for the past half hour to distract him, telling him all that had happened at the school since their first and last weekend at the mansion. He was trying to be sexy, did a strip tease for him, but it was not working for Ivor, he couldn't get in the mood. He genuinely liked that kid, was delighted to have him for himself. He didn't want to disappoint him and did all he could to look happy. The boy, who had finished his lascivious strip tease, was very naked and very erect. Ivor had to say he was talented, he had in the end, elicited a response.

Ivor pulled out his somewhat rigid cock and told him, "Come take care of daddy's lollipop Milo; we will see what else comes to mind later." That was simple and easy. Maybe it would give him time to recover… Perhaps.

Five minutes later he was starting to doze when there was a knock on the door.

Chapter 20

Miles knocked on the door, Sven by his side. He wasn't quite sure what to expect. Perhaps, on second thought, he should have chosen Anthony to be by his side. Anthony knew the man well, and could have helped him more efficiently without being compromised as Miles did the talking.

He was about to knock a second time when the door was opened by Milo. The boy was only wearing his shorts, and was sweating profusely. It was very hot in the apartment. They followed the boy to a small living room. Thorvald was there, sweating too, seated on a couch. The window was open and there was an electric fan sending some air in his direction, it probably used batteries since there was no other means for power at the moment. Max was probably working on getting that fixed.

"Hello, Mister Dunn. What brings you here and who is this lovely young man by your side." Thorvald looked tired, he wore an unbuttoned shirt, slacks, and no shoes. Miles sent a glance to Milo. Had they interrupted those two in an intense session of lovemaking? It sure looked like it. It had taken them quite some time to open the door.

"This is Sven. I hope we didn't come at the wrong time?"

"Sven! Yes, of course. I heard many good things about you, my boy. You probably don't know it but there was a plan for us to meet before all this mess. I had seen you from afar, but now, up close, I really see what I missed."

It was true that the boy was spectacular, his body that had been noticeably transformed and molded with all the training and exercises he had been doing and his tan contrasting with his fair hair enhanced his looks, or perhaps it was just the love between them. Miles thought himself quite lucky.

Milo seated himself beside Ivor and instinctively tried to get closer to the man.

"Don't worry Milo. You are mine, and no one will take your place. I suppose it is the same for you and Sven, Mister Dunn, some boys are very dear to us? But please take a seat. What did you want to tell me? Can I call you… Miles? You can call me Ivor."

"Thank you." Miles and Sven each grabbed a chair and sat in front of the couch. "Yes, you can say he is mine too, when in fact it was rather him that chose me than the other way around. Anthony, that you know well, is also staying with me, but in a more independent way. Let's say it is different with him."

"Another fine boy, that one, I know him well. You're a blessed man, Miles."

"I never thought this could be possible in my lifetime."

"Yes, I imagine your life has been a struggle 'till now. Carl made clear that you are one of us, and that you could not live your life as you would have liked, as it was for most of our kind. We, on the other hand, were able to bend the rules and enjoy what was forbidden to you. Are you satisfied with this new life?

"I must say that I am, even if it doesn't last, it certainly was worth it."

"You think we are still on borrowed time? There are not so many of us adults left. Perhaps we will make it through. I ordered a vaccine a few weeks ago but I never got it. I was desperate to believe in such a hoax. It cost me a million bucks. What the hell, that money is worth nothing these days anyway."

Miles placed his hand on Sven's head, "Yes, this is what is the most precious and important thing for me now." Some of the boys I met, not so long ago, have become a part of my life; I can't think of being without them and I want to insure them as bright a future as I can. That's the reason for my visit."

"I'm listening," said Thorvald reclining on the couch.

"You heard what I had to say in front of the committee. I think Carl is making a grave error in judgment and will take us on a very dangerous path, that, and the moral issues, of course, even if in these times they are secondary. I ask you to think it over. If you went to our side, I am sure we could change the future of the boys that we care for and many others, even though from a survival standpoint. We are better equipped than many, yet we are still very vulnerable. We need to save as many of the survivors as we can and bring them here. Make contact with other communities and forge alliances. What Carl wants, as Louise said, is a dictatorship and slaves. To isolate himself and reign over those we should help and probably when he feels strong enough expand his territory. I am sure you don't agree with that "vision." At least that doesn't fit the description Anthony made of you"

"You may be right, Miles, on many points. But I've known Carl for a long time, I would not say we are friends, but we've made it through a lot together: helped each other. I cannot honestly side against him. I haven't had time yet to evaluate the situation here. You can be sure that I will and when it is done I will take action and use my influence to change what has to be…" Thorvald turned to the side and covering his mouth began coughing, "…what has to be changed. I will make no promises. But I assure you I will take into consideration what you told me." His coughing resumed.

"Are you sick?" Miles said with real concern. It could complicate things a lot if it was so.

"No, it's nothing, the trip probably; the stress, not knowing what we would find. I suffer from asthma in these situations."

Miles was immediately thinking security. If it was the flu, he had no way to know when Thorvald had shown the first symptoms. It took only four days, sometimes three, before the rage was unleashed.

They would have to send him to the gymnasium, to Shirley, even if she had shelved her -mercy killing- methods it would not be easy to put him in restraints. He knew that Max would be a problem, not forgetting the loss of a potential ally. He had to know, as soon as possible. It sent a shiver down his spine. It wasn't over. He always hoped that they had seen the last of the diseased, that there would be no more. That he would finally live, survive the flu, and be the one out of ten. But with each new case he was reminded that nothing was sure yet.

"I'll ask Shirley to come see you. She will see what can be done."

"No need for that, I assure you. I have asthma. I know the symptoms. I have the required medication already. But if you insist and I'm not yet well, I'll go see her tomorrow morning."

At that moment the door opened, it was Max and Raymond, accompanied by three boys carrying various materials: electric cables, an AC unit, and everything to make it work.

"Max, Raymond, ready to get to work, I see. It seems Ivor caught a cold or something. We have procedures here, since we had several serious incidents with the Shanxi flu. I was telling him I should send Miss Cahill to see what she can do."

"It won't be necessary. He is fine. I'm responsible for him. I decide. No one else." Max's tone was not amiable and left no place for discussion.

Miles decided he did not need a clash right away. He had to bring Max to his side too, that could imply compromises. He thought of Milo and perhaps the other boys Thorvald had brought with him that might spend the night here. He would have to take the risk. The man looked tired, feverish, but it could be the heat, the long day's events. He said he would consult Shirley in the morning; it would have to do. Max would certainly be there, anyway.

"Okay, I trust you Max, and Ivor, be sure to see the nurse if you don't feel well in the morning and check your temperature. Sven will bring you one of our thermometers in working order so that you know if you really have a fever."

"Let's do that," answered Ivor, discreetly signaling Max not to pursue the subject. The man was often over protective with him, even more so these last weeks.

"Thinking of it, you could see her when you come to dinner, it should start in an hour."

"Sorry, but I think I'd rather rest here, have Milo bring me a platter. I'm not very hungry anyway."

"As you wish. I'll see you at breakfast then, except if you change your mind, of course. I'll let Max get that AC unit installed. Getting some fresh air will certainly help you get better."

Miles and Sven left. He had been able to deliver his message and Thorvald had seemed receptive to his arguments that left some hope that he could help them change Carl's plans. But if he were sick, it meant certainly more problems for them, the main one being probably Max.

"Sven, go get the thermometer at the infirmary. I want you to be there when they use it. I want to know if he has a fever or not. Tell them you have to take it back, that it's needed elsewhere. You'll bring it back to them tomorrow morning." He took the boy in his arms, kissed his brow, petted his back, "I love you Sven, more and more each day. We need to find a way for you and all the others to be safe, as safe as possible. This does not look too good. It could have been our ticket for success. Go, I'll see you for dinner at the cafeteria and then the night will be ours."

He let go of the boy with one last caress on the lad's bum and watched him leave, admiring his graceful moves, his near white long mane lifted by the breeze.

***

Sasha Bronski was slowly crying. He had been tricked. From the start, he thought there was something fishy about those two cousins. They clearly wanted something but he didn't really know what. Anyway, he had been so relieved when he had found them: he wasn't alone anymore; he had real people to talk to, perhaps to watch over him. Everything else had become secondary.

On the first night nothing much happened, he had just wondered why they drove the car slowly through a few small towns when the night had fallen and at the risk of encountering a group of ferals. They were clearly looking for something and he soon understood what it was: a fire, lights, or any sign that meant that a group of survivors dwelt there. But that night, although they found two, they did not try to make contact. It was rather logical, in the world as it was now, you didn't knock on people's door at night without first knowing whom you were going to be dealing with.

That's where Sasha had his use they told him, he was small and had been hiding from the ferals for weeks, he would spy for them, tell them who was there, how many, with what kind of weapons and if there were girls. That seemed the most important point for them. If there were girls, how they looked, what they were doing, did he see them alone at times: those were the questions he had to answer.

He thought it rather odd, at the same time they had explained in detail that now humans were often as dangerous as the ferals, you had to be very careful, girls, women, were easier for a first contact, it was less risky.

Sasha did not ask what they wanted from them. From their talk, it did not appear they wanted to integrate any group. For his part, strangely, never thought he could do so, even if he clearly didn't feel that much at ease with the two teens.

The next day he spent the morning checking one of the two settlements they had located. He saw a few kids coming and going, none over fourteen he would say, they all carried a weapon of sorts and were a sorry bunch. He saw no girls there and after doing his report was taken to the second place they had spotted a few miles from there.

This time he saw a girl right away, she was perhaps thirteen, not much older than himself. It was a much larger settlement, comprising two small apartment buildings and some single houses scattered around them. There were sentinels and barricades blocking the two roads passing through. He didn't have much difficulty getting close though, using what he had learned at Crestview: going from one concealment to the other. He wanted to impress Harold and Nate and decided to get bolder. What if he could bring the girl back to them? That would be something! He would have to talk to her alone, convince her to come with him. Could he do that? She was seated on a bench watching over a few of the younger kids in a small playground. There was a lot of coming and going all around, many people. Bold for bold, he took off his backpack with his gun inside, hiding it in a few bushes and simply strode forward as if he belonged there like everybody else. No one stopped him and he came to sit on the bench beside the girl. She wasn't really pretty but still rather cute with long brown hair, dressed in cutoff jeans and a tee shirt.

"Hi," he said.

"Hi," she replied, not paying much attention to the strange boy.

Sasha had been right; there were so many people here that they did not know each other that well. His bet was a success.

"What's your name?"

"Vicky, what's yours?" Finally, she was looking at him and acknowledging his presence.

"Sasha. I haven't seen you before."

"Me neither, been here for a week, though."

"Two days."

"Didn't hear there had been new kids that recently."

"Can we go for a walk?" he asked. She smiled, looking him over as if she was much older. "I would like to show you something."

"Why would I do that? I have to watch the little kids."

"They're going nowhere," he said. As if right on cue, a second girl appeared. The cousins will be more than pleased, thought Sasha, two girls! And a third one, older, was coming their way too. This is certainly the right place to be.

"I'm taking charge, Vicky; I think you are expected in the kitchens."

It was as if no one noticed the boy's presence. He was of no interest. Vicky stood up and started walking, Sasha followed.

"What did you want to show me?" she asked him, turning around, clearly in no hurry to get to the kitchens and whatever task was awaiting her there.

"Come, it's not far."

Without waiting for an answer, he was on the move and soon reached the place where he had hidden his backpack.

"What is that? Is that all you wanted to show me?"

"Are you ready for a small adventure?"

He discreetly showed her his gun that he half pulled from a side pocket.

"Where did you get that? Did you find it?"

They were in a quiet place away from anyone else and out of sight of the sentinels. Sasha decided to risk everything and tell the truth.

"In fact, I'm not from here."

"You're not!" She took a few steps back.

"No need to worry, I mean no harm. I am with two friends that I met not far from here. They sent me to have a look and see if we could show ourselves without danger, if it was safe here."

"Of course it is. You can tell them to come. Where are they?" Vicky was sending glances all around, half-concerned, half-expectant.

"Not far from here. If you come with me, it would certainly quiet their fears. All they talk about is girls."

"Come with you? Certainly not, we've been ordered not to leave the perimeter alone. I can tell Melanie, ask for an escort."

"It would not work. If they see people with guns, they'll never show up. I'll have to go back alone."

He stayed silent for a moment.

"It's not far, you said."

"A five minute walk, at most, just beyond those trees," he pointed with his finger.

Vicky was looking behind at the settlement; you could hear kids' voices, laughter.

"I don't know. Perhaps you could bring them closer by those trees, and then I would see them, come to them."

"That sounds fine," he replied with some regret in his voice. It would be certainly less spectacular than walking back all the way with the girl by his side. But it would do. "I'll go fetch them."

Only after a few steps, he heard, "Wait, I'm coming with you."

He turned around a large smile on his face.

"You sure? Great, just follow in my steps, we must not be seen leaving."

A few moments later, they reached the trees and were out of sight of the sentinels. Vicky was noticeably less sure of herself.

"I think I'll wait for you here."

"But we're really close. I don't want to leave you alone."

Around them, the forest was dense with only a few pools of light. She shrugged.

"Okay, lead the way."

They walked in silence for a few minutes. Sasha had one hand holding his gun, and the other held Vicky's hand. They found the car by the side of the road as he had left it but he did not see Harold and Nate.

"Where are they?" he asked himself aloud.

"Here we are, boy. Look who is with him, Nate! I told you he could be profitable. You got me impressed, boy. I never thought you could bring us a girl like that. Hello cutie pie, what's your name?"

They had come from behind, cutting their way back.

"I'm… Vicky." It was clear she felt something was wrong and positioned herself behind Sasha who was still holding his gun.

"She's a friend," he said, "I told her she would be safe. There's a lot of girls back there, that's what you wanted to know, we can go in, they're good people, they'll welcome us. I brought her to show you, there's nothing to fear."

"That's for sure kid. We, have nothing to fear. Now let's all get in the car and get out of here to fully enjoy our guest." They were real close now, almost at an arm's reach.

"That's not the plan, I told her she would be back in no time. What do you mean enjoy?"

"You're too young for that, kid. Of course, you don't know yet what's good for you. I will have to teach you a few things, to thank you for your find. She's not much more than a baby herself, not much in the boob department; still, she'll do fine."

"Run!" Shouted Sasha, he knew enough to understand, at last, what their intentions were. Vicky froze in place, incapable of a single move, herself very much aware of the menace.

"Too late for that, kid, she's ours, she can be yours too if you wish so."

"No way," replied Sasha. Determined, and raising his gun, he shouted, "Let us go!"

"I feared you would do that," said Harold. "Too bad for you that could be the end of our fellowship, is that what you want?"

"I want you to let us go!"

"What will you do if we don't?"

"I'll… I'll shoot you."

"Really? I very much doubt it. Catch the girl Nate, put her in the trunk."

"Don't do that," whispered Sasha as he pulled the trigger. There was a simple click, the cock falling on an empty chamber.

"He did it!" exclaimed Harold clearly surprised by his boldness. "At least you got guts, kid. Unfortunately for you, I took out the bullets, you're a heavy sleeper kid… Didn't you know? I think you'll join your friend in the trunk 'till we decide what we can do with you."

Sasha wasn't going to surrender without trying to escape. He turned to the right seeing an opportunity and pulled on Vicky's hand shouting again:

"Run!"

"Where do you think you're going? You stay with us!" Harold had been waiting for such a move and as Nate caught the girl, he grabbed the back of the boy's shorts, which ripped. He was still able to stop him though making Sasha fall, he pulled out a switchblade that he placed under the kid's throat.

"Stop fighting or I'll have to cut you, no need to decide what to do with you anymore."

"Do it Harold, he pulled the trigger on you, he's done his part, what do we need him for," said Nate, as he was pushing a passive Vicky in the trunk.

"You heard my cousin, boy. Be quiet and do what you're told." The shorts had fallen down Sasha's legs impairing any movement. "Let's get rid of those," said Harold, before he added, "Look at that cute ass Nate, he's lucky we're not into boys."

"At least that would be a reason to keep him alive. What do you want with him?"

"You saw what he did, if we let him taste some pussy, perhaps he can become useful again."

"I doubt it."

"Come on, Sasha, be a good boy, and join your friend in the trunk. You'll have some time to think about what you want to do with your life. And don't touch the merchandise we want to be the first to taste her pussy."

Sasha entered the trunk lying against the sobbing girl. The hood was closed and they were in the dark. Soon he started crying too.

***

After sending Sven on his errand, Miles went to the shop where Stuart and a few others were working on the drones. To have working drones was now their top security project, and he had given orders for them to find and take whatever it required. He needed to check on their progress and see if they had encountered any difficulties obtaining the necessary materials or help.

He found them in one of the workshops, very busy and concentrating on their task. Of the three boys working with Stuart, two were unknown; the third one was Brett Barnes, a charming Bear boy whose coltish legs and creamy thighs he had craved for during his shower duties.

"How's it working, boys?"

"Fine," answered Stuart. We've got three drones ready with an autonomy of about forty minutes; we're working on two more. Brett is doing the coding, so that they can follow the course we set for them, and fixing the communication system so we can get the image on any device. Of course, we will be able to switch to manual at any time, if we need to. I've added night vision too." Miles was astounded by their progress. Three of the drones of different sizes and shapes were stored on a table at the back of the room. Two others in several parts were the object of the attention of the two boys Miles didn't know: one, probably fifteen, dark haired, and already with a slight stubble on his upper lip, the other a very thin Asiatic boy, perhaps thirteen.

"Who are they, he asked Stuart."

"They are Wilson De Mere and Sun Azayi our mechanics experts."

Miles, looking around, was searching for a generator and did not find it, there was no noise either, instead, there were cables coming from one window that obviously furnished the necessary power for the tools and computers on show.

"Where are you getting your electricity?

"We found a few unused solar panels in one of the rooms and wired them. It was enough. There's no lack of sun and nights are short this time of year."

"You did great boys." Miles was agreeably surprised at the boy's accomplishments.

He went to see young Brett at work; he was wearing shorts, as did most boys due to the hot weather, giving a good view of his shapely legs. He also had lovely features with piercing hazel eyes. He was high on Dunn's list of the most appealing boys he had seen in the nude. Miles couldn't resist placing his hand on his fragile neck, letting his thumb play with the peach fuzz there causing Brett to look at him, gratifying the man with a seductive smile that would have conquered his heart if it had not been so full already, before turning his attention back to the screen where lines of code where being written at a rapid pace. His fingers danced on the keyboard with grace and celerity.

"I didn't know you were so good at that, Brett, I'll have to think if there is any other task you could achieve for the school. Boys, you all know of Dunn's Warriors, I'm sure. I can tell you that if you wanted, you could join them. Your main role might not be fighting but helping in other, as important, ways. You certainly earned your place today."

"We can fight too." Brett it seemed had been piqued and did not want to be considered unfit for that task. "Miss Simons said I was good when we did the trials before training."

"The one doesn't exclude the other Brett. Of course, you would still have to learn the handling of weapons and different fighting tactics. But the talents you're showing here will be more valuable for us."

"Is Alex a warrior too?" asked Stuart.

"No, not yet but I think he would probably join if I asked him. What do you think?"

"Probably … yes. It would be nice if he were there too. But if we join, do we need to do the extra training? Personally, I'm not much into that kind of thing."

Miles would have thought that any boy his age would be thrilled to handle weapons. In fact, their main problem during the training sessions was the excessive enthusiasm of some of them that made them dangerous to the others. There had already been a few incidents. On the other hand, it was also true that a few of them were obviously scared of it, and it was rather courageous for Stuart to express his reticence in front of his peers.

"As I said, there are many ways you can be helpful. Still you would have to learn a few things about defending yourself and the means to do it, but don't worry, I supervise all the training. If you feel it's not for you we can model it for your needs, just teach you the basics."

"I can certainly give it a try, then."

"I'm sure you'll like it. They're a very special group of boys I'm personally training and taking responsibility for. You'll be very welcome." Miles suddenly truly realized how valuable those boys could be for him and for the school. They would need their knowledge and talents if they wanted to rebuild even a semblance of a civilization in the future. Were there many others like them here at Saint Xavier, which specialized in other areas? He had to know, there could be many. The school attracted some of the best students regionally, but also nationally and internationally and most obviously with strong aptitudes. He was grateful to Alex for presenting him Stuart. It opened a whole set of new opportunities.

"You could all move in with us at Bear House, we like to be all together. Think it over. I have to leave you now. Be sure to tell me when you're ready to test the drones; so I can see how it all works."

"Sure, one of us will come get you," Stuart and Brett replied in chorus. Miles secretly hoped it would be Brett, who looked eager enough. Damn, I'm incorrigible. I never have enough, he thought leaving the shop.

***

After dinner, Dunn spent some time with the boys at Bear House before doing his rounds. The dormitories had been completely altered to suit the capricious desires of the boys. There were no internal load-bearing walls in the structure and many of the partitions had been removed to create larger open spaces where the boys gathered, played, or slept together. Dunn's warriors had progressively extended their territory as new boys joined them. A few preferred more privacy and were occupying the vacant smaller rooms, Arthur was one of them, still disturbed by the promiscuity and uncomfortable with the now widespread sexual activities after, and sometimes before, lights out.

The warriors had set up a large area where they gathered every evening before going to bed. Miles liked its atmosphere, its smells, and its sights. As soon as he settled there, Matthew immediately came and sat beside him, leaning on him, as it had been his habit since the beginning, often joined and imitated by some of the younger ones in the group. Sven readily left them his place knowing that not long after he would have the man for himself. They talked, they told stories, recalled the day's activities, they joked, some played games, with the few battery lamps lighting their faces and making shadows. The warriors, like any other boys, were following the trend of the day and mimicking what they saw happening all over the school in every house. Soon couples had formed. A few, at that time cuddled together and often later left the group to lie together. Some of the sleeping areas were only protected from prying eyes by walls of tissue made with the bed sheets and other light materials. The noises were not stopped though and told of what was going on behind them. None of the boys was an innocent anymore, not even little Louis at six. But not all were participating either. Miles was particularly attentive about the case of Matthew who so far did not seem interested, despite the fact that his close friend Bob was now part of an active trio with Walt and Chad.

Anthony was often there too, looking for a partner for the night. At other times, he was not seen, having gone elsewhere to find his satisfaction.

Lisa, the only girl in the whole school, was usually surrounded by a few suitors, her brother by her side keeping a close watch. Miles had devoted a special room for her, apart from the others and forbidden to boys except her brother. He didn't want any incidents. If the trend was boy on boy, he was certain that girls were still a real curiosity as shown by the trap set by Omar Seku.

Miles was preoccupied. Sven had confirmed to him that Thorvald had a fever. He should already be under surveillance at the gymnasium. At the same time, with what had been learned of Shirley's treatments there, it did not seem the best place for him. And Max would make sure it didn't happen. Still he had to be restrained; Milo and all of the boys should stay away from him. He had to implement it all in the morning. He did not want to oppose Max but it was becoming inevitable.

The talk of the day among the boys was the ferals: and how to deal with them. They asked William and the others who had fought them off at the Conner farm what it had felt like. It was repeated again and again, the story going in a circle. Some of the boys, Lukas, Mikey, Jeffrey among others, were eager for a confrontation. They thought that with their training and weapons it would be a great adventure. They would become heroes. Others, and first of all those who had been there, or were at the car dealer ambush, and had seen what it was really like, were a lot more reserved. Only the twins were boasting a bit and complimenting themselves on how they had dealt with the problem. Miles was listening to the arguments of William who was telling how afraid he had been, and then relieved to see the truck coming to their rescue when Anthony whispered a few words in his ear.

"I want you. Join me in your room. I'll wait for you there." And he was gone.

Sven was too engrossed in the conversation, oblivious of Anthony's departure. Why not, he won't mind.

He stood up with an affectionate tap on Matthew and Logan's heads, and went to his cubicle a few paces away. There he found Anthony on his bed already naked with an enticing five-inch erection.

"I missed you, Mister Dunn. It's been too long since we had fun together."

"We both have been quite busy. You'll have to tell me of your feats," Miles answered, taking off his shirt and jeans. "Unfortunately we don't have much time. I have to do my rounds soon."

"Let's not lose any more time then," said the boy, moving to the side to give some room to the man.

As soon as Miles was settled beside him, Anthony started pumping his engorged member before bringing to use his expert mouth and tongue to heighten the man's sensations. Miles opened the drawer of the bedside table to get the lube. It was almost empty.

"You're good Anthony. I've been told you've been practicing a lot recently."

The boy left the man's hard rod to answer and took the lube from his hand.

"You can say I haven't been idle." He started to coat the man's cock with it and then took care of his own hole – then came closer for a kiss.

"Let me take care of everything for you. Then we will continue to talk."

He mounted the man and sat on his shaft guiding it with a sure hand to the entrance of his love chute. It went in effortlessly.

"Ain't I the best?" he said, as he started to slide up and down.

"You certainly are," said Miles, letting himself become lost in the enjoyment the boy procured him, embracing the child. He was truly gifted. He was soon raising his hips in rhythm with him.

"We haven't seen you much lately. I missed you."

"Really? You have Sven, I didn't want to interfere."

"I don't think Sven would mind. He knows I love him, he's not afraid to lose me anymore. I think."

"Well. I'll come to visit more often then. I like him too. In fact I think I'll be seen a lot more around here now."

"Why's that?"

"I think my position is well secured with Carl now. I don't need to prove myself anymore. I went with more than twenty boys, you know, I did my part; not that I am complaining. It was quite an agreeable experience. I could give you names of the best ones if you're interested?"

"No thanks, I have more than I can handle at the moment. I am content with you and Sven."

"It's like dominoes, you know, these boys will teach and convert others to the pleasures of sex. The job is done. I might do more, still, but I also want something different, besides being your boy, like Sven." The boy was talking quietly while keeping a steady rhythm, his hands on the man's shoulders, his slender cock bobbing up and down not far from Miles' face.

"I've discovered that I might like younger boys better. Even if I do like all types as you've seen. So I'll be looking for one to be mine. I have a few in mind."

"What do you mean, younger boys? Who are you thinking of?"

"Don't worry just a couple years younger. It's amusing to see you ask such a question. Would you mind if I tried to seduce Matthew?"

"Matthew? For all I know he is not interested."

"But I can try? Don't you agree?"

"As long as you let him decide, I cannot say otherwise."

"You haven't got something between you, do you? He is always glued to you."

"No, it is simple affection… I'm some kind of a guardian for him as you know."

"Yes, but he is one pretty kid… Fisher is very, very interested. He always asks about him when we meet."

"I've noticed… I'll make sure he never gets close to him." The rhythm was accelerating. "Get on your back, I am getting close."

They shifted around, Miles taking position above Anthony, the boy's legs on his shoulders, getting ready for a last run.

"You don't mind if it gets a bit rough?"

"No, as you know it. I like younger boys, but I like a good fucking too."

Miles had started hammering away like he loved to do. His hands holding firmly the boy's hips, his mouth on the boy's nose, eyes, and lips. He came with a groan, just after feeling the boy's jizz hitting his chest, accompanied by the contractions of the velvety sheath that held his member.

As soon as he was done he turned around, bringing the boy with him to let him rest on his bigger frame, still embedded, caressing his back and the twin mounds that had brought him such delights.

"Am I better than Sven?" asked Anthony, mischievously.

"You're different."

"Can you do that with him now?"

"We're close; we're still working on it. He still hurts a bit when I'm not cautious."

"Too bad."

"That's not very kind of you to ask."

"But you answered. Don't worry, I'm not gonna compete with him."

To Miles, it appeared that the reason for Anthony's absence from Bear House recently might come from a slight case of jealousy. He might be more attached to the man than one would think. Miles had been afraid that Sven would be the one upset by his relation with another boy. He never thought it could be the other way around.

It was not only sex, Anthony was looking for, he was a sensible boy, with strong feelings, contrary to what many would think from his behavior these last days. What had driven him to try to convert so many boys to sex? A strange way to prove himself? Assuring himself of his appeal? That could also be the origin of his desire to pair himself with Matthew, who was also very close to the man. Perhaps Miles was concocting a wrong scenario, it was all conjectures, but he promised himself that, like with Sven, he would try to be more attentive and caring towards the boy in the future than he had been before. He could not do it for all of the kids around him but it was possible for those closest to him. Until now he had thought Anthony tougher than many: more independent and confident. Obsessed to see his own needs met by Alex, Sean, Riichi, and Carl's other club boys, Anthony's needs had been neglected as well as his trauma after Greg's aggression that had left lingering effects. He would develop a new attitude, starting with that boy. He had been selfish, had forgotten how young, sensible and fragile those boys were. They had all been exposed to high levels of stress. The loss of their families, the dangers and the incertitude of their new world. He resolved to do his best for as many of them as he could. And not only think of bedding them.

"Anthony, I really want to see more of you from now on. You and Sven are both very special to me. Your stories are different, he came to me, you were sent to me by Fisher, but the result is the same. I care about you as much as I care about him. I love him and I love you, you must be sure of that." He kissed him sweetly, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, looking him in the eyes. "I don't forget either, the risks you are taking with Fisher, it is not a game, and what you are doing could save many lives."

Anthony leaned his head onto the man's shoulder; he was at peace, feeling safe and perhaps loved.

"I saw him, Fisher. He thinks you've lost. With the arrival of Thorvald and Max he tis certain he'll be able to achieve his vision, the way he wants it. He's not too sure yet if you'll be with him or against him. But, I think, he doesn't fear you anymore."

"Nothing is written, Anthony, we still have a few cards to play. As a last resort we can always leave the school, I would take you and Sven of course."

"And Matthew?"

"Yes, and a few others. I would hate to abandon all the others to Carl though."

"I loved him for a time, he made me feel wanted. What a fool I was."

"Don't blame yourself. Everyone makes mistakes and without him, perhaps, we would not have met. Maybe he used, more or less, the same words I just did. Only he was not sincere as I am now. Everyone wants to be loved, everyone can be fooled." Miles threw a glance at the clock on the bedside table. "I'm late, but I sure don't regret it. Do you want to come with me on my tour of the school? Sven will probably accompany me too."

"Sure I'd love to."

"Let's get dressed then."

***

It was a clear night without a cloud in sight. The stars were bright and reflected the man's mood, who walked quietly, flanked on each side by the boys that had accepted to enter his life. The sentinels had been doubled since the ferals' scare.

Shirley was watching. She was also accompanied by boys. Those were from her brigade. They had their weapons drawn, it would be really easy, she thought, to take him out. The boys appeared unarmed. He would not see it coming. Or would he? She saw him stop and look their way when she knew he could not see them in the darkness that now reigned over the school at night. Was it true, what was said, about the instincts those veterans had developed? She thought her boys would not hesitate; it seemed nothing much could scare them anymore after one month being in charge at the gymnasium. She knew they were dedicated and would follow any of her orders. She was tempted to see how they would pass that test.

No, she could not do that, not yet, it was too early. Carl would be furious. Dunn could still serve them, for a time at least.

That man had too many scruples. He would never go to the dark side, to their side. She knew it. He didn't know what he missed. Cole was waiting for her at the apartment; she would have some fun with him again. She was not tired of him yet: such a splendid subject to do with, as she wanted.

***

Miles woke up early, with the two boys having spent the night with him. The bed was too small but Anthony had stayed nonetheless. They had slept half on the bed and half on Miles. Which had been rather nice for him, even when he had been wakened in the middle of the night by Sven who was agitated probably due to a nightmare. When Sven kicked him in the ribs, Miles held the boy waiting for him to calm down, kissing and caressing the silky skin, playing with the soft cocklet and bum that had been put to use earlier. He could also observe Anthony's peaceful face resting on his belly. There had been some kind of a contest between the two boys to know which part of their lover they would settle on.

He now had some difficulty extricating himself from their limbs and bodies, not wanting to wake them up. He finally managed to do so observing them once more in their slumber while getting dressed.

He made his rounds alone that morning. It was hot but dry which made it more bearable. Since the ferals' scare, thirty armed boys were on duty at all times now. He saw the lookouts, leaving to assume their watch. He had not wanted them alone and miles away at night. They were only fifteen, sixteen-year-old boys, and even with the training, he could not expect them to be completely effective under such conditions. With some luck, if the drones worked, that problem would be solved soon.

He met again with the boys at the cafeteria for breakfast. Anthony was beaming. He probably had been right: the boy needed him more than he thought. He could certainly manage them both, but he would have to avoid some of the other temptations.

"Sven, did you go see Thorvald yet?"

"No, I was planning to go before we start the training and give my report then."

"Okay. I'm afraid I already know the result. I'll have to deal with it this morning. Louise will take over the training for me. Tell the others."

"Yes, sir." He did a salute and scampered off.

He saw Stuart, Brett, and Alex coming his way.

"Hi, Mister Dunn."

"Hi, Stuart. Hi, boys."

"We wanted to tell you that the drones were ready to be tested."

"Great, I'll join you this morning as soon as possible. I have a few duties first."

"We also talked about your proposition to join the Warriors. And we all agreed that it was the best for us. Alex wants to join too."

"That's really good news. You'll be able to move your stuff to Bear House as soon as you want. That's not a problem for any of you? Alex?"

"No, I've decided it was what I wanted. I want to join, be with the best. Be with you." He blushed when saying that last sentence, which was surprising.

"That's your choice and I'm glad to have you with us. I'll be with you at the shop as soon as I can. Brett, you should see Walt for the sleeping arrangements."

"Of course, no problem," answered the pretty boy.

Miles was quite satisfied with those new recruits. They were quite valuable. Alex would be another story. It could become a problem now that he wanted to devote his time and attentions to Sven and Anthony. He did not know what the boy's expectations were. What he feared the most though was that he was being manipulated and that Carl had used this opportunity to get one more spy among them. It had to be considered a possibility. At the same time, he was himself, the one that had set it in motion and the kid had looked genuine. He would still need to have a serious talk with him.

***

Miles went to the training grounds where the boys were starting to regroup. Louise was there distributing tasks for them: from weapon handling and fighting techniques to simple fitness training to have them in the best possible physical shape.

"Louise, we have one more problem to deal with, I'm afraid."

"What is it?"

"I think Thorvald has the flu."

"Shanxi? Are you sure?"

"Pretty sure. Sven should be here shortly with the latest information. It's Max that will be the problem. I don't see him ready to accept our rules concerning his boss. I think there's much more than meets the eye between those two. We might have to compromise, once again."

"It's becoming a bad habit. Perhaps we should stand our ground on that matter."

"Here is Sven. Let's see what he has to tell us."

The boy was coming straight towards them at a run.

"So, how was it?"

"As you thought, he is coughing, has a fever, he looks like all the previous ones that I saw."

"Exactly what I feared."

"Fisher was there too, talking with him and Max. Milo and the boys he brought with him were still there too."

"Doesn't look good. I think I'll have to go with you Miles."

"No, I don't want to antagonize Max more than necessary. Maybe he can be reasoned with or at least accept our safety measures. Who knows, Fisher might help in that matter."

"You can always try."

"I'll do that. Can you take care of my kids this morning? I need to check those drones after I have seen Thorvald."

"Of course, I'll do it."

He wasn't too keen to confront Max again and lingered a few minutes to watch Sven and a few others train for close combat, he would have preferred to spend his morning here, with them. It was a very agreeable activity where physical contact was king. As he observed Sven grappling with William, admiring their gracious moves and desirable bodies when they strained against each other, he noted, and not for the first time, that their hair was getting too long. It would not do if their life were really in the balance; it was never good to give your adversary such an advantage. At the same time he loved them that way, with their long flying manes, it would be criminal to give crew cuts to all those beautiful boys. Sven saw he was leaving and came to him for a last sweaty hug; Miles passed his hand over the silky, almost white, strands, before going in the direction of the Teachers' House.

***

When Miles knocked on the door, Max and Fisher had already come to an agreement. In no way Carl would lose the advantage he had just achieved in his complete takeover of the school. He had been ready to accept any of Ivor's needs, even more so, if they were backed or imposed by Max. Thorvald was as good as dead already for Carl. But Max was the asset he had to keep on his side. If he could, and in any way, reinforce their collaboration, he would do it. And he just did. He had accepted all his demands and assured him they would be respected by all. They were not that extreme anyway. Ivor would stay in his apartment, he would not be restrained, and the boys would stay with him to the end. Max would be there at all times to watch over him and his catamites. Carl didn't care if something happened to any of them, he would simply eventually regret not having the Lorentz brothers to play with again. There would be others to replace them anyway and with some luck, he trusted Max, they would be his own in just a few days. He would put guards in the corridor to be sure the menace was contained and that no incident occurred beyond that door. Max would be in debt to him. When he saw Dunn enter the living room with a determined face, he could not prevent a smile.

"Morning, Miles. I see you learned of Ivor's condition."

"Yes, I came as soon as it was confirmed. I am very sorry for you Thorvald and for Max too. Did you explain to them how we proceed here?"

"Yes, of course."

"Then I think it is better if we go now. Max will come with us, I suppose."

"Mister Thorvald will stay here. It has just been decided. I'll take care of everything," said Max in a definitive tone.

"But, I thought…" said Miles, looking at Carl who kept silent on purpose.

"It will be so. Mister Fisher agreed and there is no need to restrain him either." Max's tone was calm but left no place for any contradiction, it was very clear to Miles. Carl's presence had let him hope a confrontation would be avoided. It seemed it could not be so.

"Carl? What did you tell them exactly?"

"Well, I think Max is well aware of the risk for himself and for the school but he also has the competence to face them. I think he can be trusted. We will put sentinels in the corridor, just to be on the safe side."

"We've been through it all, believe me Max. We paid the price. You can't be on watch twenty-four hours. You'll need to sleep. For our safety and your own, you should reconsider, at least you should accept to use handcuffs." Miles tried without much conviction.

"No, I'll manage."

"After all it's your life, Max, I won't discuss it further."

"That's settled then. I'll send Miss Cahill to see if she can do anything to help you feel better, Ivor. Perhaps you'll make it through," said Carl, quite satisfied with the obvious antagonism building between Max and Dunn.

"Thank you. I really appreciate what you are doing my friend," said Thorvald, short of breath, even seated.

"It's only natural, we've known each other more than ten years now."

"That's settled then. I'll leave you now," said Miles. "I'll take the boys and find them a place to stay."

"The boys are going nowhere," stated Max.

"Sorry, what did you say?" Miles was taken by surprise; he had never considered that possibility.

"Ivor needs them. They want to stay here. Don't you boys?" Max's tone had turned icy.

All five were seated or standing around Thorvald, Milo just beside him. They all nodded their agreement. Milo's was convincing, less so for the others who shot glances at Max and didn't look as affirmative.

"That's crazy, you can't leave those kids here; you know what could happen. You're risking their lives!" exclaimed Miles, incredulous, he had never expected such an absurdity.

"Calm down, Miles. Max knows what he is doing. He'll make sure they are safe. Won't you Max?" said Carl.

"I'll do that."

Miles had known from the start that his priorities were not with the boys, but with his boss. There was a strong tie between them, at least from Max's side. For him, all that mattered was Ivor's welfare. All the rest was accessory. Carl just wanted to be on Max's side. But Miles could not let it go; lives were at stake, he had to try again.

"Boys, if you say so I can take you with me. Think again. You should not stay here. You know it."

There was a silence in the room. Miles had unconsciously brought his right hand closer to the Glock hanging in his belt. His eyes were on Max, observing.

Miles hoped Thorvald would say something, tell Max to let the boys go. He said he cared about those boys, and that was the sensible thing to do, but he stayed silent. He looked exhausted and feverish; still it was obvious he didn't want to leave this world without boys by his side.

"I'll stay with Ivor, I want to stay. The others can go if they want," said Milo, clinging to the man. "I'm not afraid."

"You should be, Milo. You know it," said Miles, staring at Max, Ivor, and finally Milo.

The tension had lessened a little but it was still high. Miles had done what he could for the moment. He still did not want to use force, even in this situation. It could only end badly and given what little time was left, he could try other alternatives. He was about to call it quits when one of the blond boys suddenly left Ivor's side, grabbing his brother's wrist and pulling on it to bring them both to safety behind Miles. It was clear the other two exotic boys, also standing, were about to follow but one look from Max was enough to stop them.

"They made their choice. I'll take these two now," the marine said with authority, before Max could have a chance to react. "But I still want everyone to know that I disapprove of this decision and I'll hold you responsible for any incident. I'll be back."

Carl didn't want the Lorentz boys to escape him, he had plans for them, and so he stepped in right away.

"Let me take care of them, Miles," he said, moving forward, all smiles, but with steely eyes. "I promise I'll take them away from here as you wish. You have a lot to attend to. I would say we've reached an acceptable compromise now."

"Well, boys, you'll go with Mister Fisher, there. Do as he tells you," stated Miles, after a small hesitation; he really did have a busy schedule.

As soon as the words had been pronounced the two boys said, "No, please, let us stay with you." They were pleading with their eyes and faces clearly afraid, staying as close to him and as far away from Carl as they could.

Miles was surprised and amused at the face Carl was making, a mix of outrage and anger.

"Carl, they don't seem to like you. Why is that? Well, I'll leave them in Louise's care on my way to the shop. Max you look like a reasonable man. Think it over, you'll see I'm right, and Ivor, I am very sorry again, but this is as crazy as can be and you know it. Again, it is not right; you can still change your mind anytime."

Miles left, the two boys clinging to him as if their life depended on it. Two more he would have to look after but it certainly brought him some satisfaction. They were no longer at risk and had been whisked away from a very displeased Carl. He thought there was a story there and he intended to hear it from the boys.

***

Carl watched Miles leave, angry with himself first. He should have been more careful with the boys, more gentle. He had scared them away. He was the one to blame. His last game the other night had been too much, but those two brought out the worst in him. It had been the same with Cole. He was not done with them yet. He was sure he would soon have them in his grasp again. And this time he would have no reason to spare them any of his wicked cravings, on the contrary, they had opposed him, shamed him in a sense. He turned towards Ivor.

"Don't worry my friend, Max and I will take care of everything for you. We will make sure you have a boy by your side for as long as possible, you just have to ask. All of your needs will be satisfied and we will pray that you make it through. There are always survivors to any plague. You could be one of them. Did you hear we had a boy that has completely recovered? He was also the first that fell sick, would you believe it."

Now that he had played his part and shown his support, all he wanted was to leave this place.

"Max, I'll have two boys outside. You can ask them whatever you want. I'll come visit again, see how you are doing. We had just been reunited; we could have done great things together. But let's hope it's not over yet. Shirley will be here shortly."

Carl, as he left the room, felt good and bad at the same time. Good because Max was more important for the current balance of power than Ivor and was likely to side with him, bad because all he wanted right now was to hurt someone, anyone and he didn't have Cole for that anymore, he should have thought of borrowing one of Ivor's catamites. It would have to be one of his new harem boys then, but that would mean breaking a rule. Who would it be, Paul, Peter … Enrico? No, not that one, he was his precious one; he would play at mouth and ass with the other two like with the Lorentz boys, it had been a lot of fun, for a start, that is.

***

Despite the small victory of putting out of harm's way the two brothers, Miles was still angry with himself. Once more, he had been unable to impose his choices. He had stepped back, avoided a frontal confrontation with Max, of course, but also with Fisher. He was the one, who from the start was accountable for all those wrong decisions. Louise had been right. They should have taken action much earlier. Now it would be more difficult and the cost would be higher with inevitably some casualties. His mind was trying to find a solution to an impossible equation. Perhaps they could lure Carl away from the school with Greg, possibly Shirley, who else? But what would be the bait? And then what? Execute them? Just like that, in cold blood, say it was the ferals? Would he have the nerve, the will? That was the story of his life, always waiting for an impossible compromise when he knew it would not happen. His sexuality had made him a pariah with no way to fight back or change anything, and because of that, he thought that everything he did could only worsen the situation. It was time to take his life into his own hands and impose his ways, whatever the cost.

"We are so grateful, sir," said the oldest of the two brothers, timidly, who felt the man's discontent. He was a tall boy despite the youthfulness of his features and handsome, the two boys looked so much alike, one a miniature of the other.

"I just did what was right. Why didn't you want to go with Fisher?" inquired Miles, trying to smile.

"He scared us. I'm sure he wants to hurt us. He is not at all like Ivor."

"How do you know that?"

The boys exchanged embarrassed looks.

"We spent time with him yesterday. He was not gentle."

"He called me mouth and Eli was ass," said the younger one, obviously insulted by the name-calling. But there was more and Eli's tongue was freed by those words.

"We were like objects to him; he didn't really care about us. By the end, he put us one above the other head to tail." The boy paused, wanting his description to be as accurate as possible. "Connor's mouth was level to my butt … you know, where you put the dick. He was going in one and then in the other, hard and fast. It was disgusting! Mostly for Connor who was the mouth. Then he kept calling us that way, not using our real names."

"I'm sure he wanted to do more. But Max had warned him…"

Miles, as he listened, wasn't that much surprised. He had felt it in many of his conversations with the man. Their love of boys was different. Miles was far from perfect and had done despicable acts in the past, out of fear, pain, and anger. But now he had changed, he had accepted his nature and needs. He had accepted his love of boys. He wanted to fulfill his desires and cravings, but he wanted also to love and be loved, something that was new and that he was still learning. The boys he had met were as important to him now as he was himself. He took pleasure in sex but never again would he impose it on them. He had reached a balance he thought impossible to find. Carl was different. At first, Miles had hoped he had found a soul mate who had known the same longings and obstacles. One that had found ways to overcome them, live with those forbidden passions in secrecy. He had thought he would show him the way, help him to be accepted as he was. He had done so, in a way, when he had promoted the companion system and exposed him while making acceptable his relationship with Sven and Anthony, not a small feat. Miles had soon understood however, that both being boylovers did not make them alike, far from it. Carl was manipulative, seeking only his own interests and using others to satisfy his selfish needs, Miles and the boys included. Had he always been that way or had he been changed by years of leading a double life? It was of no importance.

In fact, from what the boys had just told him and his own observations he was getting worse, probably now showing his real self: trying to abolish all restraints to do as he pleased in the full sense of the term without concern for others. The network he had woven over the years was his stronghold. Louise had isolated herself from everyone at the school for years. He, himself, was a stranger, a soldier without much in common with Saint Xavier and arrived there less than two months ago, if you could believe that. They never had a chance to really find the needed support to oppose him. But they would now have to make a choice and soon.

"We'll make sure he doesn't touch you again, boys." He told them, trying to believe in his words. Two more he would have to take under his wings. The numbers were escalating. Would he be true to his words with all of them?

On the field, surrounded by kids, Louise was coming into view; she was now his most precious ally. Walt was beside her observing the boys and encouraging them. They had improvised an obstacle course for them and the kids took to it with great heart, giving all they had. They were of all ages and he saw, with some satisfaction, the older ones helping the younger ones. There was hope there, at least.

"Louise, I have two more recruits for you, and for Bear House. Walt, you'll have to find them a place tonight."

"No problem. Getting used to it. I saw Stuart earlier, we're filling up fast today, what's going on?" replied the boy.

"The tech kids will be very helpful and these two just need a safe place. Not a bad thing either, it'll strengthen our group."

"How did it go with Thorvald?" Louise wanted to know.

"As we feared, and Fisher agreed to their crazy demands. He will stay in the apartment and they want the boys to be with him to the end. I was only able to take those two with me, but Milo and the houseboys, as they call them, are still there. Fisher wants Max on his side and will accept and do anything for it. I even think he is playing him against us. I have to check on the progress of the drones, and then we will have to talk."

"We talked a lot lately. Perhaps it is time to act?"

"You might be right Louise. I'll see you later."

***

As he got to the shop, he had calmed down somewhat and was trying to think ahead. Stuart welcomed him with a wide smile and stars in his eyes. The others seemed to be in the same joyous state of mind. It was Brett that spilled it.

"As I was doing the code, I got an idea. I think one that will please you."

"I need that right now, you don't know how much. What is it?"

"We thought of and worked on the drones because Stuart is crazy about them and it seemed fun and neat. They will certainly be very useful but I thought of something much more simple and practical."

"I must say he is right." Stuart said in agreement.

"We can use cameras with movement detectors and place them all around the perimeter. They would work on batteries; we could even motorize them to see whatever is going on all around them. They would be monitored from the video room in the Administration building. The we could send the drones only when needed."

"You could do that?"

"A lot of the boys have GoPro they used for sports, we could use those, add the detectors, the signal transmitter, motorize them, we just need to be able to rotate them, and that's pretty simple. There's a lot of stuff here at the shop we could use. Perhaps not enough though we might have to do some shopping."

"That, I can do," said Miles.

"We already made two prototypes; they are linked to my laptop. Come and see."

Miles followed Brett, who sat in front of the screen.

"There is one on the sports field and one in front of the stables. I'll activate them."

Brett clicked on the icons and the camera images appeared side by side.

"Now I'll activate the movement detectors."

The cameras went dead on the screen, and then there was a repeated beep and the right one came back alive showing a few kids passing in front of it.

"We can follow them, if we want." Brett pushed the right arrow and the camera turned, keeping them in sight. As they disappeared the beep stopped and the camera went dead again.

Miles was truly impressed, those kids were resourceful; the idea was brilliant; he had never thought they could manage stuff like that. This was a great way to protect the school and avoid surprises such as a large group of ferals or other menaces. As he was thinking of their potential, the second camera came alive, beeping. This time it was a simple bird that had started it.

"That's why we need to motorize them to be able to look around and check the surroundings, using the drones as a last resort. Since they fully activate only when there's movement the batteries could last weeks."

"How many do we need?" asked Stuart.

"I would say many, if we want to cover the whole perimeter and they'll have to be some distance away if we want to be warned soon enough." Miles was already thinking ahead. "The roads will be easy but there's the forest. We will have to pick the best spots, those most likely to be used by the ferals. That should be feasible though. That's awesome what you did, I'm repeating myself but we really do owe you a lot. I'll prepare a raid for this afternoon, tomorrow at the latest to get what you need. At least one of you will have to come with us so that we know what to bring back. Do you have any idea of where we should go?"

"An electronics shop," said Stuart.

"The mall, I would say, Buckwalter's place, they have a nice store there or maybe something bigger?" added Brett.

"You're the only two that are talking. What are you guys thinking?" Miles was addressing the other boys, mostly silent, Wilson and Sun.

"We are more at ease with our work than at talking, Stuart and Brett do it very well. We have nothing to add."

"For now let's go see those drones flying then."

The next minutes were rather fun, after making a demonstration of how they worked, Stuart gave the commands over to Miles and he kind of learned how to pilot one. A few boys gathered around them, curious to see the show. Then, before leaving his new recruits, Miles asked, "Who will come on the raid?"

"I will," said Brett, after a moment of silence.

"You're the youngest?"

"Yes, but I'm the genius of the bunch, kind of. I'll know what to bring back."

"Genius, really, I didn't know."

"I don't like to talk about it. I can do it here because we are all like that, each in his area. I'm just more versatile."

"And the prettiest too, I must say. I'll make sure nothing happens to you, you are way too precious for us. I'll send Sven to tell you when I plan to go." Miles had not been able to avoid complimenting the boy on his looks and Brett's cheeks had reddened, he was at Bear House and could not ignore Miles attraction to boys. He should not have done that. He already had Sven and Anthony, and then there was Alex. He was meant to look after Matthew and William, and the multiplying refugee kids. It would be totally unreasonable to add one more to the list.

***

Max was distraught and sad. He knew Ivor was lost to him. It was only a question of time. He also understood that it was now up to him to decide between Dunn and Fisher. He had witnessed very similar situations at the orphanage, and it felt very much the same here. You had to choose which side you wanted to be on, if possible, the one that would win, give you more food, and protect you. Back then he didn't have the option of being on top, he was too young, and too novice, but he had learned a lot. In that sense, it was quite different here. Fisher needed him to establish his power and control over Dunn. He was the one who could tip the scales one way or the other.

His priority right now was Ivor's well-being, and Fisher was the only option. The man needed him, and he would satisfy all their demands, not so with Dunn. He had nothing against him. It was simply the logic of survival. Fisher did not care about principles, what was right or wrong. He knew what he wanted and how to get it. From his experience that was the right attitude with the world as it was now, it was the only way. Get to the top and stay there at whatever cost, those you had to step on to get there didn't count. He had seen it, seen the mechanics very well. Fisher had more troops and probably the strongest determination. He thought Dunn didn't have a chance, too irresolute. The one he would watch closely though was Miss Simons. She was of the kind who could try something crazy if pushed too far. He had seen it immediately, a few minutes had been enough, that was part of his job and he had a good instinct for that.

But all those considerations would have to wait. The next two, three days, would be dedicated to the love of his life, Ivor. The nurse had brought a few medications for him and he was feeling somewhat better. He had told her he wanted the best and did not want him to feel any pain, if possible. She had listened and so far, it had worked. He was almost back to normal and knowing his days, hours, were counted was making love with the three boys at his disposal. Trying to cling to his life's passion for as long as he could, more or less like he had done at the mansion those last few weeks.

Max had to say he was thankful and rather appreciative of young Milo, who had come and stayed of his own free will. The boy showed real affection–love–for Ivor. This was the best he could have hoped for him. He had thought of getting rid of the other two, but it could wait as long as Ivor enjoyed their presence, they also could have their use later. He had decided he would do his best to protect Milo and take him away when the time came. He was still at a loss as to what he would do when the end came and the rage took over. Would he bring Ivor a peaceful death, would he wait until the flu killed him or turned him into a feral? And in that case how would he act?

The boys would come in handy: he could not go without sleep for three days. They would have to be put on watch during that time. He was quite confident that they would not attempt to escape or do anything foolish. They knew what he was capable of when you disobeyed. He was the one who had selected them, trained them. Ivor did not know what it encompassed. Max always made sure the boys were well aware of what could happen to them. That was his job; accomplish all that was necessary for Ivor's safety and comfort. He had accepted that the dirty work was his responsibility and that Ivor was to be left out of it completely. In fact, Max guessed that his boss did not want to even think of that side of things, as long as he was satisfied with the results and was not confronted with any of the problems.

On the bed, the action was heating up. He was a little bit envious of those boys, regretting that he no longer for him to partake in such carnal love with Ivor. It could never be the same, it had never been but he would have to find a new partner himself as he had done for many years now,, life had to go on. Those boys were way too young for him even he could occasionally use one for his own needs but it was nothing more than that. He knew all they could provide through his training and it was not what he was looking for: those immature bodies that so inspired Ivor were of no interest to him. It was one more thing to put on his agenda. Once Ivor was gone, it would be time to think of his own future.

Ivor, surrounded by the three boys, was in the throes of a powerful orgasm that would put an end to that session. Most of his attentions had been for Milo who had received his emission deep in his bowels. Max had made sure that nothing that could be used to hurt him or any of the boys had been left in the room. Any object or furniture that could serve that purpose had been taken away from the apartment. After giving it much thought, Max had also asked for two pairs of manacles. He did not know yet if they would be used, but that way he thought he was prepared for most eventualities. Now the hardest part was left to him. Wait for the end and see the man he loved suffer, and be taken away by that damn virus.

***

It was meant as a take and go raid but Miles had learned that in this new world, as in the old one, nothing went exactly as planned in such situations. Still he did his best to avoid any surprises. There were twelve armed boys with him, two thirds of them "veterans" who had already sampled the "outside" and the rest of them newbies. They all knew how to handle a weapon well and wanted to be confronted with the real thing. They had taken the truck without its canvas to let the boys in the back have a good view of their surroundings and be able to respond more easily to any attack. Tools was driving it with Greg by his side. Miles had taken the lead in the SUV with Brett, Walt, Anthony, and Sven. He had hesitated again to take Anthony with Greg present, their antagonism was still very alive, but the boy was now kind of inseparable from Sven and himself. It would be one more test.

To those who had not yet left the school, everything at first looked quite normal. The first houses they passed as they were getting closer to their objective did not show any damage, you could see cars in their driveway, bicycles, an abandoned toy here and there, nothing really out of the ordinary. As they moved on, some odd elements appeared when you looked closely: a broken window, a car's open door, a body lying in the backyard. Then the change became more obvious: cars abandoned in the middle of the road, houses half burnt, bodies on the sidewalk, debris of all kinds littering the ground.

The mall they had targeted was Buckwalter place, fifteen miles from the school on the outskirts of Bluffton and Pritchardville. It was known to Brett who thought he could find everything they needed there. Miles was confident the electronic store would be mostly untouched. He saw no need to pillage such a place when electricity was out.

When they arrived, the parking spaces were mostly empty, but as they approached the main entrance, they saw many bodies littering the ground all around it. Miles ordered the boys to stop immediately; Brett turned pale on the seat beside him. From their position at the south entrance ramp, he saw no movement but took his binoculars to better assess their surroundings.

It appeared quiet with no direct menace. He had no doubt the bodies were those of ferals. Many were naked or wearing few clothes, there were no weapons lying around except for those they usually handled, sticks and stones, the occasional knife or similar white bladed tool.

The entrances to the mall had been blocked with all kinds of rubbish, from furniture, mattresses, tables, cupboards, to supermarket carts, even a car, though it would not havet been enough to stop the attack. The ferals had certainly entered the building, and if he could not tell the outcome yet. They would know of it only when they got there and they would have to be very cautious.

"Where is the store we are looking for?" he asked Brett.

"Down the first concourse to the left. Are they all dead?"

"Yes, they are. Those were ferals; there might be some more inside. Do you know of another entrance closer to the shop?"

"I always got in through the main one; there are others in the back and at the end of each of the concourses. I don't think they are any closer though."

"How far to the shop?"

"It's not very far. I would say three hundred feet at the most."

"It looks pretty quiet from here," said Anthony. "I remember the car dealer fight, though, it was quiet too."

"Exactly. We will go to the main entrance and stop there. Then I'll go in with Greg to see how it goes. I want everyone prepared, weapons checked and ready to fire. Let's go," he said on his radio.

"Wait," said Brett who had regained some color." I got a better way."

"Hold it," ordered Miles.

Young Brett exited the car, opened the trunk, and pulled out a box and his laptop. The box contained a small drone that he placed on the ground beside the car. He then came back to sit beside Miles and opened the laptop he had placed on his knees.

"No need to take any risks. Let's see if I can get in there."

An image appeared on the screen, Brett pushed a few keys, and the drone left the ground going in the direction of the mall. The boy was piloting with great ease and only two fingers, the image on the screen was of the best quality as the drone was closing in on the main entrance and details showed themselves. Miles was bent toward the boy with one arm around his shoulders, their heads almost touching as he was observing the images on the screen.

The glass doors had been broken and furniture and other objects that had blocked them had been pushed back – more bodies were piled there.

"Slow down Brett, I want to get a good look at that."

The drone hovered, turning around, leaving Miles all the time he needed to form a scenario. A few of the defenders and their weapons had come into sight. There were at least two older boys perhaps sixteen or seventeen, their rifles beside them. Their bodies were in bad shape, barely human anymore, hacked to pieces. They had been overcome and died defending their territory. There were more ferals' bodies farther inside that meant that some others had retreated to find another line of defense or to flee. There was enough light inside thanks to wide canopies in the roof. Apart from the dead, the main promenade appeared empty.

Miles felt the young body against him tense and sigh at the ugly vision of death, but the boy kept going, leaving the entrance area and taking the concourse on their right toward their ultimate goal. That part was strangely in order with no corpses or anything else in sight until they got to the store.

"That's it, said Brett. It looks untouched."

"I see that, Brett. We need to see more before we go in, though. Let's explore the whole place." He could not resist patting the boy's naked thigh as encouragement, loving the feel of the satiny skin. Anthony and Sven were watching the drone's images from the backseat. Anthony could not hide a knowing smile at that sight. Walt was on alert observing the surroundings with the binoculars searching for any signs of a menace. Greg had left the truck cabin, and standing beside the open SUV car door, was watching too, holding his AR15 nonchalantly.

Brett sent the drone forward, passing more stores towards the exit doors at the end of the corridor, which were blocked too. No one was in sight. He then went back to the entrance and took the opposite concourse.

"There's a Publix at the end of that one," said the boy.

The passageways were darker, the visibility diminished, but enough to see a few more bodies on the ground.

"Slow down, Brett." Miles' instinct had warned him but too late.

It came fast from the left. The drone was hit and knocked to the ground. It did not respond to the commands anymore but it still sent images. It was surrounded by ferals. There were many of them. There was some kind of bend in the concourse before getting to the Publix. The ferals were gathered there, apparently waiting.

"Now we know where to find the enemy. How many do you think there are?" said Brett.

"Too many for us, for sure," said Sven.

"What do you think they are doing there?" questioned Brett again.

"I would say they probably want to get into the Publix where the rest of the survivors are holed up."

"Can we help them, those survivors?" The boy was looking at him hopeful.

"Why don't they attack, that's unusual for ferals," said Greg.

"They don't behave like they did at the beginning, obviously."

"So, do we go in?" asked Greg with some eagerness.

"Yes, we will first achieve our goal if possible. Then we will see what can be done for the people trapped in there. Miles hesitated, it was a jump into the unknown, was it worth it? Sven and Anthony were with him and he did not want to risk losing either one or even see them or anyone else injured. "We'll go in through the main entrance, in silence, try not to get the ferals' attention." He had made his decision. They had brought plenty of ammunition; they had automatic rifles, mostly AR15s, even a few grenades. They could hold back any assailant for enough time to assure a retreat in good order. "We will cover the hallway were the ferals are holed up while Brett and Walt get what brought us here. Tools will stay outside with two of your boys to make sure our exit is secure."

"I'll leave Lopes and Travis with Tools. We'll follow you and stay silent," answered the prefect.

They parked a little distance away from the entrance, leaving the vehicles doors open. As they entered the building, it was necessary to step around and over the bodies, picking up the defenders fallen weapons as they went. Miles motioned Walt and Brett to take two carts that had been used to block the doors. Thinking for a minute, he used the hand signals he had taught the boys to order Sven and Anthony to pick one more and go with the other two. The faster they got what they needed, the faster they could leave this place. He took position with the six remaining boys in front of the alley where the ferals were massed. They had not been noticed yet, it seemed, or more probably and surprisingly, were being ignored, they did have enough firepower to halt any attack for a reasonable amount of time. Walt and the others were careful to avoid any obstacle as they pushed the carts. Sven, his gun held steady, went first, covering for them. They were to abandon their mission at the first alert, Miles had insisted, leaving the carts behind. The four boys soon disappeared, absorbed by the alley's shadows.

Long minutes went by and Miles' attention was divided between watching ahead, listening, being ready to give orders at a moment's notice and start shooting, he was often sending glances behind hoping to hear the sound of the cart's wheels that would signal they were on their way back. They had heard some inevitable metallic sounds as Walt used his tools to cut the locks as well as glass breaking as they were getting inside the shop. There was no reaction from the ferals, who were about two hundred feet away. Greg was right beside him, the only one that appeared relaxed, all the others, Mike, the twins among them, were at the ready, some rubbing a sweaty palm on their shirts or shorts, others fidgeting, having difficulty keeping their finger away from the trigger as they had been taught.

Minutes felt like hours, waiting. Miles almost jumped when he heard the muffled sound of the radio.

"What's up?" he said, whispering as he pushed the button.

"There's a large group of ferals coming from the south. Fifty I would say, they're moving fast," said Tools, stress in his voice.

"How much time?"

"Ten minutes at the most!"

"Okay we are pulling out. Bring the vehicles to the entrance."

Greg had heard the exchange. He signaled Miles, asking if he should go fetch Brett and the others. Miles would have preferred to go himself, but he knew he had to stay. He was about to tell him his agreement when he heard the muffled sound of the cart's wheels behind him, meaning they were coming back. He raised himself from his kneeling position followed by the whole troop and they started to slowly retrace their steps, soon joined by Sven. The other three were pushing their well-filled carts ahead of them toward the exit.

As they retreated in good order Miles was quite sure he saw some ferals in the shadows watching them. How long had they been there? Why didn't they attack?

They were almost out, when Sven, next to him caught his foot in one of the bodies and fell. The reaction in the concourse was immediate – about ten ferals rushed at them. Miles opened fire with one hand while pulling the boy back to his feet with the other. The boy started firing too; their targets dispersed looking for protection. Three were hit.

"Get the carts in the truck and we're out of here," Miles shouted.

Two minutes later, they were in their vehicles. Tools had spotted a second group of ferals coming from the south. Miles was now sure those could not be compared to the zombies or walking dead from the movies. They may not be quite human anymore but they were certainly intelligent beings, communicating with each other. It was clear to Miles that they had, in some way, called for reinforcements, and had been waiting for it before attacking the Publix. He did not doubt they would win that battle in the end. He estimated there were at least one hundred coming toward them, not counting those waiting inside. He did not know how many people where left in the mall, certainly not enough to defend it. Otherwise, they would have been able to hold the entrance during the first attack.

Brett was following the same course of thinking. Without speaking and simply by looking at Miles he expressed his worry.

"What can we do Brett? My priority is our safety."

"The Publix has gates at the other end. We could try to warn them. Help them escape."

Miles glanced around at the boys in the backseat holding their guns, a resolute expression on their faces.

"There are exit ramps there too, and all around the place. No need to come back this way." added Brett.

"Tools, we will try to help those in the Publix. You follow. We will make a lot of noise and try to get their attention. I'll give them five minutes."

Walt who was behind the wheel drove them to the front of the Publix on the north end of the mall. Once there, they saw a third group of ferals coming their way.

"They are everywhere. Honk the horn, Walt. Boys you are sharp shooters, they are within range now, show me how good you are. Make as much noise as you want but don't waste your shots." He ordered the same to those in the truck. Then went to the blocked entrance of the Publix hoping he could make contact with those trapped inside.

"Hey, you there!" he shouted.

A voice came from his right. A side door had been half opened. There was a rather pretty girl about eighteen aiming a hunting rifle at him.

"Go away. We don't want you in here. You won't get in!"

"You got it wrong, lady. We don't want to go in. We want to help you get out alive. There are over a hundred ferals coming to join those already in the mall. In my opinion, you don't stand a chance. You'll be dead before nightfall. We can help you get away. But you have only three minutes to make up your mind. We won't take any unnecessary risks. Do it and fast."

The door closed and Miles could hear voices arguing behind the door. Under fire, the third group of ferals had dispersed and taken cover, but were still moving forward, getting closer. The other two groups were now coming for them too. Miles was looking at his watch: the time frame he had allowed himself would be up soon. Brett had come to his side, watching the door expectantly.

Finally, as he was about to give up and signal to get back in the vehicles, the door opened and the girl reappeared wearing a backpack, a small child of perhaps two years old in her arms and herding more children out. Greg and the boys around him kept firing at the approaching ferals trying to gain a few more precious minutes.

"How many of them have you got?" asked Miles.

"Twenty-six."

"Get as many as you can in the truck. Those that don't fit will have to go in the SUV or they will have to run beside the vehicles."

They were almost all boys and rather young. He only counted two other girls. The last ones were getting out when he heard a thud on his right followed by two others.

People were falling from the roof, a ten-foot drop, at least!

It was not people but ferals! And even with some obvious broken bones, they were rising and crawling only a few feet behind Greg and his group, who were too busy shooting to notice anything. For a second or two, Miles hesitated. He could get rid of Greg and perhaps some of his gang at no cost. But this idea did not catch, he did what had to be done and started shooting at the ferals. Brett beside him, after taking a step back, he held his ground and opened fire too.

"Greg, watch out, behind you!" he shouted. Then to everybody, "We're moving out boys, back to the vehicles! Hurry!"

There was a moment of confusion where some of the boys were close to panic having enemies on two sides and finding themselves almost face to face with the ferals. But they tried to hold their positions. For a minute, they were almost overwhelmed by the wave of crippled attackers but finally managed to repel the assault with minor injuries, helped by a pause in the number of incoming ferals, and less of them falling down from the roof. Greg was also a great asset: he showed calm, confidence, and leadership. Miles hated to admit it. The other groups that were progressing, more or less undercover, towards them used the opportunity to try to rush at them. They were quite a mixed bunch, some emaciated, others showing wounds oozing pus, broken bones, many of them were naked but not all. Others again looked quite fit and leaders usually at the rear. Miles took good note of all that.

"Hurry up, kids, we can't stay any longer!" Miles thought they had no more than a few more minutes before their position became difficult, not to say impossible to hold. They had the firepower but the ferals had the numbers and a fierce determination. The boys were behaving well but he was not sure it would last. Stones and debris were falling all around them, thrown from the roof and the ferals on the ground converging on them. Brett was hit on the right shoulder and let go of his gun, he recovered fast picking up his weapon and massaging his shoulder.

"Are you alright?" asked Miles.

"Yes, it's nothing."

Miles, for a moment, was everywhere. Brett, still by his side, was channeling the mall kids to the vehicles, supporting the Saint Xavier boys here and there and dispatching them to the vehicles in good order. In the end, they were able to fit everyone in, either in the truck or the SUV. Some piled on top of one another in the rear or on the knees of the passengers; they were all able to escape in time. He was the last one in and sat alongside Brett picking up a five-year-old to put him on the boy's knees. As the car was starting to move, a large pack of ferals burst from the store not twenty feet from them. A volley of fire from the truck stopped them in their tracks and they were gone.

As they took the exit ramp and left the mall behind, they heard a kind of wail coming from the different groups of ferals who understood they had lost their prey. Was their objective the humans trapped inside, or the store itself and the food stocked there. Miles could not say, but he was learning to take that foe very seriously. He could see now for himself how they had evolved from what appeared like enraged madmen to their present state that showed insight and collaboration. They were not throwing themselves at guns anymore; they had some strategy, and shared objectives. Worst, they were fearless and oblivious to pain. He stored all that information since he knew it would be needed later. Beside him, Brett was trembling he had behaved well during the fight but now was letting go. Miles put his arm around him to comfort him and the child on his knees.

"How are you feeling? How is your shoulder?"

"I'm not feeling very well but my shoulder is okay, I think."

"Don't worry, Brett, that reaction is quite normal, we're out of it now, you did great. We will have to check that shoulder when we get to Saint Xavier." He comforted the boy, squeezing gently his naked thigh.

Then Greg called him on the radio.

"Dunn, seems we lost someone."

"Who?"

"Lewis Silva, Enrico's brother, he is not with us," there was a strain in his voice, Greg knew he was responsible for his group, he was the one that had to count heads, and Lewis was a friend.

"There were a lot of bodies on the ground, a lot of shooting, confusion; we'll talk about it when we get back to the school. I'm sorry, we can't go back."

"I understand, sir." It was the first time the prefect used that mark of respect to Miles.

"With the vehicles overloaded, it's better that we stop as soon as possible in a safe area, see what we can do with those kids. I'll tell you, wait for my signal."

"Yes, sir."

They parked three miles away in an open parking lot with good visibility all around. He got out of the SUV, taking the small boy from Brett's knees and had all of the new occupants do the same.

The girl was clearly in charge and among the oldest of the group. They were poorly armed and it was obvious that they had lost their best fighters and weapons defending the mall's main entrance. It was quite understandable that they had accepted his proposition so fast.

"I am Miles Dunn, we come from Saint Xavier, and we're going back there. We can take you with us if you wish," he added, looking at Greg who was standing beside the truck. He wanted to show him he didn't really care about Carl's decisions. "We picked a few weapons that belong to you at the mall. Walt will give them back to you, but I think you would be much safer at Saint Xavier than anywhere else."

"It's a school?" It was not really a question, more a statement and she did not wait for his answer." I am Sam, Samantha Woodall. I think I am in charge of this group now that Mark is gone. We have nowhere to go, nowhere safe now that we lost the mall."

"Mister Fisher and the committee did not want any more guests, Dunn," declared Greg in a much more subdued way than expected. Unexpectedly, it was Tools that took the part and was much more vocal about it.

"We cannot take them in. They are of no value to us!"

"Fisher is not here. I decide." Fortunately, the loss of Silva had not been raised or noticed yet. They had lost him saving those kids, and it would be Miles who would have to take responsibility in the end.

The girl, Sam, and her group, felt the tension between the two. She was tall and sturdy, a tomboy with a very pretty face.

"So who is in charge at Saint Xavier?"

"Well it is kind of complicated, right now, but here, I am the one giving orders."

"We could take them to the food depot," suggested Walt.

"It's at least fifteen miles away, but it is an option."

"I just want a place as safe as possible for my group. But I know we can't ask too much of you. You saved us once already. We'll take any option you see fit. The name food depot rings rather well, I must say. There are 26 of us to feed every day. Will they take us in?"

"We know the people. I'm quite sure they will welcome you, they are kind of indebted to us." Miles had made his decision. "We will take you there. Walt, bring the map; let's see what's the safest route to get there."

***

They arrived at the food depot an hour later, avoiding the populated areas. Miles checked the place with his binoculars and did not see anything to worry about. They stopped the vehicles and went to the entrance walking, leaving the Saint Xavier boys behind. The Hummer was still there serving as a guard post. There was a barricade that had been built around it to protect the entrance. A few vehicles were parked close by. Three armed boys were posted there, one of them going in to signal their arrival. They were soon welcomed by Beau Shein himself and his son.

"Hi there, glad to see you, Mister Dunn, I'm sure not to forget that name after what you did for us. Bringing more strays to us?" The man had sized up the new arrivals it seemed.

"You can say that. I'm relieved to see you're still here and that you're well organized. You're right: these kids just escaped a feral attack."

"You didn't take them back to your school?"

"We already have our share of refugees; I would take in more but some don't agree with me. You seem to be doing well, here. Could they join you?"

"Since you kind of saved us when you brought us here I cannot see how I could refuse. Our numbers have grown, and as you said, we're now organized. We've learned to be wary of those ferals. But fortunately, they have mostly left us alone, so far. We have more weapons too that we found here and elsewhere that the military abandoned. We are not defenseless anymore. Don't you want to come in?"

"I would love to but it's getting late; some other time." He preferred not to say too much about Saint Xavier but still sent a message. "We should keep in touch and work together." Miles definitely saw a multitude of opportunities if he could establish a trusting relationship with them. "You'll have to come to our school and we will discuss our common future or I could come back here in the next few days. I should have done that long ago, at least to check on you. Right now, we need to go back to Saint Xavier. I don't want to be on the road at night."

"I can understand that. Don't worry, we are willing to welcome any strays you find and we'll treat them well. We owe you a lot: we were kind of desperate when you found us. We now have the food and weapons to keep us safe. We are expanding to other buildings and we're far enough away from the center of town, with very few ferals around."

"We will need to have a way to communicate. Sat phones are still working or perhaps some military radios could be used. Do you have power?"

"We have some generator units but we use them sparingly."

"I have some good tech guys at the school; I'll see how they can help."

"Any help is always welcome."

"I'm sure we can both benefit from each other's help. One warning before we leave you. You have to be very careful; we met with a very large group of ferals, in the hundreds, too many to fight without heavy losses, even for us. They are kind of roaming around"

"I hate to hear that. What do you think we should do?"

"Put sentinels all around. Perhaps set up patrols or scouts to be warned ahead of such an attack. That's what we did. Reinforce your defenses. Be prepared."

"We will do that."

"Are there any other communities such as ours around here? Did you have any contact?"

"Not really, we have seen and had contacts with small groups or individuals but nothing like your school or what we have here. We don't move around much, trying to keep a low profile. We have a treasure here. We don't want to attract the attention of the wrong people. There must be others like us though, just haven't met with them yet."

"I see. I'll come back soon. We really need to talk. So long, Mister Shein."

"See you, Dunn."

Miles turned towards the tomboy girl and her ragtag group of kids who appeared tired and frightful. They were looking around trying to see beyond those walls what was awaiting them inside and in those new surroundings.

"Sam, I am leaving you in good hands. Take care."

"I will. I'll always be thankful for what you did for us, Mister Dunn."

Miles acknowledged her but did not answer. The light was dimming. As soon as he got to the SUV, they left and were on their way back.

***

Beau Shein was appraising the group of new refugees. That bunch was well fed and in rather good shape. There were a lot of young ones who would be a burden. His eyes lingered on the three girls besides their leader thinking two could be of use. A few of the older kids had guns but not that many.

"Welcome boys and girls. I hope you'll like it here. This is gonna be your new home. Of course, you'll have to participate and contribute to our community. There are a few rules you'll have to follow. Nothing too demanding, you'll see. Come in. you have to leave your weapons at the entrance. That's the first rule. Those who wish to can take a shower. There are a few stalls in the administration part of the building; then we will have dinner and get to know each other. What do you think of that?"

"That will do. Thank you," answered Sam. they did not have much choice but to accept it anyway, even if they didn't like to be separated from their few weapons. She followed the man leading her troop inside the depot.

The building was vast with high ceilings, it was also dark, the light not able to penetrate it due to the small number of windows. A large space had been cleared behind the main entrance transformed into a semblance of what could be called living quarters with couches, chairs even beds that had been brought there. Many of the kids gathered in this area during the day with some also sleeping there while most used the offices that were found on the left of the building at night.

"Perhaps you'll want to stay together for this first day? You can settle here. We can find you your own space in the next few days as you get accustomed."

The newcomers were soon surrounded by the depot dwellers who looked at them; it appeared to Sam, as customers at a market.

Chapter 21

Ivor Thorvald knew the end was coming and needed to settle a few things before leaving this world. First, he had to show his love and gratitude to Max–tell him how dear he was to him–had been for all those years, since he had … bought him as a child. Yes, let's say the word since it reflected the truth. He had a clear idea of how to do it, by giving him what he had been longing for since he had lost his boyish charm, many years ago. Milo could help him in that. All three would lie together and make love for one last time. Then he would entrust the boy to Max, ask him to keep him safe and away from him. Dunn was right, the risk was too high and the boy too precious to put in jeopardy. The other two were expendable and would have to suffice for whatever time he had left.

He would also give Max a few final words of advice. Dunn was right on some points but also wrong on others. This new world would give you no second chances. Moral considerations carried no weight. In the competition for scarce resources with other groups, you had to be ruthless. There was no place for the weak: you had to take what you needed, wanted. Survival–your own survival–was at stake. Ivor could relate to this through his own experience in business affairs and his more secret dealings with his boy providers. Carl's Machiavellian ways were better suited to face an uncertain future. He had been ruthless in pursuit of his own needs and had kept himself in a position of power for many years. He knew how to impose his views, how to surround himself with the right people and how to manipulate them. On the other hand, Max should help with some of Dunn's more sensible demands. They should avoid isolation, seek out any nearby groups of survivors, feed off the weak, and seek alliances with the strong. What Carl did with some of the boys and the way he treated the diseased were secondary issues, survival was paramount. The ultimate goal was to be on the top of the food chain, the supreme authority, effectively the "government" for as large a territory as possible, in order to benefit from all the advantages that went with that position.

He had been resting for an hour in the bedroom, the AC unit was blowing cool air, and the temperature was again bearable with his slight fever. He could hear Chanchai and Joao talking in the living room, Max and Milo were playing cards close to the bed on a small table, Max was teaching the boy poker. They seemed to be getting along fine. The boy was only wearing his boxer shorts and Ivor was happy to see that he was still able to be aroused by that lovely vision. It had to be now, who knew if it would still be possible later.

"Who's winning?" he asked the players.

"The kid," answered Max. "He's got all the right cards!"

"Would you two like to play with me now?"

"Of course, we would love to, Ivor," said Milo, with a large smile, "if you don't feel too tired."

Both were looking at him, with a mixture of affection and worry.

"I wasn't thinking of playing cards, I was thinking of something more intimate."

"Again? Well, I sure don't mind." Milo was already pulling off his shorts, "Just me? Don't you want the others, I can go fetch them."

"No, just you and Max."

"Max?"

"Me?" Max exclaimed, he was at the door, ready to leave Ivor and the boy alone, call Chanchai and Joao eventually, "What do you mean?"

"I want to make love to you one last time before it's too late."

"But … you know it wouldn't work … It's … I'm not the boy I was anymore."

"That's for sure, Max. But I still love you and with Milo in the bed with us, I'm sure it will be fun, that boy can work miracles. Come join us. Please." Milo was already cuddling with the man pulling his majestic hard cock from his pajamas. Ivor's hand was cupping the child's buttocks a finger testing his moist hole that had been put to use numerous times that day.

Max hesitated for a few seconds, then pulled off his shirt. He was soon naked and joining them both on the bed. His pelvis and perineum had been shaved: a habit he'd adopted a long time ago to please his lover.

"How do we proceed?" he asked simply.

"As we feel it. I'm sure it will come back to us instinctively. You take care of Milo and I'll take care of you, Max."

Max was as hard as his mentor was, overwhelmed by strength of passion that spoke of years of longing. He kissed Ivor without restraint, almost crushing the boy between them. Milo did not complain, only now realizing the powerful bond between them. For once, he was not the center of attention, and the next half hour was dedicated to the two adult lovers. He was just a facilitator and for that, Max was profoundly grateful. The soft skin of the boy, his kisses, caresses, and presence were enough to maintain Ivor's excitement as he penetrated Max, who in turn entered the boy. Their lovemaking was sweet and intense, they knew each other so well, their likes and dislikes; it was as if they had been doing it every day for many years. Ivor's sickness for those precious few minutes had disappeared. Max came first, deep in the boy's recesses; he was soon hard again and came a second time as Ivor himself had his orgasm. They laid there on the bed, entwined for a long time afterward, simply enjoying being together and the lingering afterglow of sex.

"How stupid of me. Why didn't we do this, years ago?" said Ivor.

"No, do not have any regrets. It was wonderful that way, the best gift ever. It would not have been the same otherwise."

Contented, they drifted off to sleep.

***

Night had fallen by the time Lewis Silva regained consciousness. A violent headache had seized him, leaving him dizzy and nauseous. Putting his hand to his head, he felt dried blood. It took him a few moments to recognize his surroundings, recalling the instant before he was hit and lost consciousness. Then there was the stench. He was lying among many dead ferals, a fact that had probably saved his life.

His gun was there beside him. Instead of staying in line with the others, he had wanted to get closer to the action, in order to prove his value, by killing more of the enemy. It had been really stupid of him. He had ventured too far, been cut off from the group and then hit by a rock. Now he was alone. Where were the others? Were they dead? Despite the darkness, he could see that the vehicles were not there anymore. Had they abandoned him? No, it could not be!

But he wasn't really alone. He heard movement, strange sounds, barely human. Ferals were coming in and out of the Publix. If he didn't find a way to escape, he was as good as dead!

***

Dunn and Greg were in Carl's office, telling him how the last raid had unfolded.

"No one saw him fall. I'm afraid he must be considered dead. As far as we know ferals don't take prisoners."

Carl wasn't too upset by the loss of Enrico's older brother Lewis. It meant there was no big brother to complain to if things turned bad, and the so far adorable boy, fell from favor. True, Lewis would probably not have listened to his little brother's complaints anyway, but it now gave Carl unfettered license to do as he pleased. The possibilities were endless, like when his frustration at the loss of the Lorentz brothers had been appeased by young Peter, with a gratuitously hard spanking and rather rough fucking. He had not gone further on that occasion, but it would come, soon.

More annoying was the setback to Greg. Not for the loss itself–that was bound to happen sooner or later–but for him to be unaware it had happened until it was too late, that would be a blow to his authority among the boys, casting doubt on his leadership.

Then there was Dunn: Silva was part of Greg's group, but the marine was accountable for the raid, and it was his decision to help rescue the kids. It was one more setback for him and one more gain for Carl. It might help soften the man's principles and bring him onto their side. It was great to have Max but having Miles too would be even better.

On the plus side, they had brought back all that was needed to improve their surveillance capability. It should have been him proposing solutions and recruiting the ablest students. After all, he was the one who best knew their academic potential. The library was another asset they had to exploit. It was now time to get to work on all these matters and perhaps forgo the pleasures of the flesh, which had been an obsession these last few weeks. There were still other pressing matters to attend to for their survival.

Dunn was continuing his debriefing with an account of the drones, "They have already started building them; those kids work well and fast."

"Yes, we have quite a few exceptional students in this school, and quite strange that you were the one to remind me of that, I should have seen their importance and drawn them to our attention. I must check the school records in case we have more hidden talent."

"We need all the talent we can get. Once again, it is clear the ferals are becoming a major menace. They are no longer behaving like crazed individuals. They are working and communicating with each other. They are somewhat organized now. Fortunately, they don't use weapons. We still have that advantage. On the other hand, they have the numbers and we only have boys to face them."

"Yes, but boys with combat experience and the skill to handle weapons effectively, thanks in large part to yourself."

"If we had more numbers and weapons we could probably eradicate them from our vicinity; at least that would be a good start."

"I see what you're implying, Miles, and it will come in good time. We should really put our differences aside, we have much more in common than what separates us. I tell you, you're holding onto outmoded principles. You've only just discovered how good it is to be able to fulfill your wildest dreams–loving boys. It's all-new for you. I've been where you are; in different circumstances of course, but hear me out. For now, your sex life is like a dream come true, but believe me, there's a downside to it and there's nothing you can do about it. Time is your enemy. Take Sven for example, a splendid specimen of a boy. In a few months, perhaps a few years if you're lucky, you will see him start to grow hair, become gangly, his voice will change, he may get pimples. He may become more interested in girls or other boys than interested in you, or maybe you'll start to find him less attractive. I bet you like them young and hairless–don't you? The same for me. What will you do then? Find another boy?"

"Anthony might last longer or it could be the other way around, and then who's next? On to little Matthew? Comely Bob, a very nice boy, or some other younger boy? If you're lucky, one like Greg here, who will stay by your side–but that's rare. Most will desert you at the first opportunity, once time has run its course. In your present state of mind, that seems impossible, but wait, and you'll see that what I'm telling you is, unfortunately, the rule, and Greg, the exception."

"What's the difference with what I propose? Love, you will tell me, free will. Maybe, but look closely and you'll see this is all about the same in the end. I want to have boys always available for me to do with as I please. Believe me, most will be happy to oblige, if you put food on their plate, if you keep them safe from the outside world, they will accept a lot and be grateful. You might not call that love. But does love really exist for us? Perhaps for a fleeting moment? It's mostly an illusion if you want my opinion."

"As for "free will," in a world where your main fight is for survival, there is no freedom to choose, and without choice, this so-called "free will" does not really exist. But enough talk, isn't it time for dinner?"

***

Miles observed as he made his way to the dining hall, that the news of the death of one of his students, a close friend of Greg had not made Carl lose his appetite. They were certainly different but at the same time, what he said had a ring of truth. He had met quite a few boys of stunning beauty, who a few years later, he had difficulty recognizing, and whose attraction had totally disappeared. It was a problem that he had been conscious of for a long time. What happened when the boy grew up and lost his boyish charm? Was the love they had once shared enough to last in the long run? What future did they have? He had never had the chance to answer those questions. What was to gain in establishing relationships if they were destined to end? Were a few years the best he could hope for? Should he choose younger boys to postpone the time when they would eventually part? Those were valid questions and they troubled him. Was Carl right? Enjoy the present and not worry about the future, instead of trying to build something that was doomed to end anyway? Those were not happy thoughts.

As he sat at his table surrounded by Dunn's Warriors, he could not stop himself from looking at them differently and trying to assess them. There was Matthew, Sven, Anthony, William, the Edward twins, Bob, the Conner brothers, Johnny, Silvio, Logan, and the new ones Ken, Patrick, Jeffrey, and not far away, Brett with Stuart and Alex, then Lukas, and also the seniors, Walt, Mike, Arthur, and Melvin. Further away again, were boys that were not part of the warriors: Chandler Terril at the same table as the Higson brothers, and the Forbes brothers who had brought them to the school. The Higson's seemed to have been more or less accepted and could mingle with the Saint Xavier boys. Then all the others in the hall, many of whom he did not know or could not recall the name of. Was the affection many of them had shown towards him only temporary? Driven by need, or was it sincere? Would it last and grow stronger with time?

Miles had the same questions concerning his own emotions and the debate was still raging. Did he really love Sven and Anthony or did he only want them in his bed? Were all the sweet words just an alibi to justify himself? Meeting the gaze of some of them and exchanging smiles he was soon convinced that nothing was as it appeared. Nothing was sure, nothing was forever, but he wanted to believe there was still truth in most of it. Carl was only partly right and missed the most important thing. He used the boy's bodies but shared nothing with them and that was what Miles wanted more than anything else. It was more than just sex and an endless number of available boys. He saw Carl surrounded by his catamites, as he liked to call them, and it was clear the atmosphere there was different, the smiles rare. Even little Enrico did not seem too happy that evening. Probably he had learned of his brother's fate, but there was more to it. The boys were standing away from Carl, even Enrico, who was usually glued to him, always seeking a caress or some other sign of appreciation. Tools and Greg were present too. The head of literature had clearly chosen his side when Miles could have hoped to find an ally there. Tom Cruise was seated away from both groups, indecisive as always.

***

The menu was Atlantic cod with mashed potatoes, the fish coming from the half-empty freezers. Conversations were going on all around him: Johnny talking horses with Louise; Logan with his friend Ken, as shy as ever, and the dog Ginger beside them; Lukas and Mike holding hands; the twins in conversation with William, with an occasional contribution from Sven.

As usual, the blond boy was seated next to Miles, whose hand was caressing his smooth naked thigh. The marine's gaze fell on Anthony seated with Matthew, a rare occurrence. Matthew was feeling a bit ostracized by Bob who was in the middle of a heated conversation with Walt and Chad as it was often the case lately. There was no doubt that Anthony was using this situation to his advantage and trying to seduce his protégé. The older boy had his arm wrapped affectionately around the younger boy's shoulder, talking in hushed tones and privately. One of his hands had also disappeared under the table: for what purpose? Miles tried unsuccessfully to eavesdrop on the conversation and wondered if Matthew would succumb to the seduction. Should he intervene? A strange question. Who was he to forbid anything of that kind? To be honest, he found the sight and potential development of that affair quite arousing. The possibility of adding Matthew to his circle of sexual partners had brought to mind various lewd images. However, Matthew showed no evident interest and was in all likelihood saying no, while staying discreet, which encouraged Anthony's further efforts. His hand finally reappeared after a moment; their talk appeared inconclusive.

As Miles guardedly eased his engorged cock, stuck in his pants, before returning his hand close to Sven's crotch for comfort, his eyes fell on young Brett who responded with a very appealing smile and more. He was pronouncing words silently, making sure not to be seen by placing his hand by the side of his mouth and followed it all by a nod of the head indicating the exit. What does he want? wondered Miles, while his diminishing member regained vigor. No, that can't be. But it was certainly worth investigating when he saw the young boy leave his table with a longing glance in his direction. He followed suit a minute later, there was no rule that said he could not share emotions and love with an endless number of boys. It was a stupid and crazy decision, he knew it, but how could he resist? Was Carl right in the end?

***

The charming boy was waiting around a corner, his coltish legs and fleshy thighs naked, enhanced by his short and tight cut-offs that fit them perfectly.

A few boys were coming and going, they needed a more private place.

"Come to my office," Miles told him, not waiting for an answer and pushing him in that direction with a hand cupping his firm, well-rounded, and probably virgin bottom.

The boy seemed somewhat surprised by the gesture, so Miles moved his hand to his neck. There was no need to be brusque with him even if all Miles wanted was to strip him naked on the spot and ravish him mercilessly.

"I need to talk to you," Brett was saying.

"Of course, don't worry we will be alone in a minute. Will it be your first time?"

"My first time? Yes, well, you could say that."

That would be Miles second true virgin. They did not have much time and he would need to be careful, particularly as he was out of lube. There was a general shortage; it was in great demand lately. How did the many boys practicing sex manage?–probably used spit or another substitute. The thought of bringing a large stock from the drugstore in the mall had crossed his mind until things had turned dangerous. He would have to find a safer drugstore, lube should be easy to get, as it wasn't a necessity for most people. Of course, he could always ask Carl; no doubt the man had a large supply stashed somewhere, but he preferred to manage without him.

The office was always left open, and as soon as they were in, he turned the lock and without waiting had his lips glued to the boy's, one hand trying to make its way into his tight jeans while he directed the pretty boy to the couch.

He had felt the boy tense, there was something wrong, his cocklet was limp, his mouth shut. He pulled back, looking at him questioningly.

"Is there a problem, is your shoulder hurting still, did you see the nurse?"

"What, no, that's not what I meant."

"I thought … What else? Is it going too fast maybe? I can understand that."

"No, you don't understand at all. I wanted to talk."

"To talk? No problem, we can talk first, that's fine with me." He pulled back his hands and sat beside the boy, unsure how to behave.

"I wanted to talk to you about Cole."

"Cole? Which Cole? The swimmer? Come to think of it, I haven't seen him since his father's burial. He was among the flu victims, I suppose. Wasn't he?"

"Yes, that's what I was told; I'm on the swim team too."

"So you don't only have brains, you're full of surprises young man. I'm sad for Cole, he was a nice boy, but what can be done about it?" This was not going the way Miles had pictured at all. He placed his hand back onto the boy's luscious thigh, slipping his fingers slightly under the jeans' cuff, savoring the velvety touch, its firmness and perfect shape, feeling the heat concealed under the cloth.

"Alex told me he had heard the headmaster and the nurse talking about him. I think he was never sick and certainly not dead, I looked at the graves several times and couldn't find his name."

The boy was looking at the man's probing hand as he talked.

Miles saw the distress on the boy's face and pulled out his hand. This wasn't at all about sex.

"Where is he then?" inquired Miles.

"That's what I would like to know."

"What did Alex hear exactly?"

"Mister Fisher was asking the nurse if she was taking good care of Cole."

"What did Shirley answer?"

"Shirley?"

"Miss Cahill, the nurse. Perhaps they were talking about another Cole?"

"I don't know of any other. She said he was doing fine, that they had lots of fun together. What did she mean?"

"Come to think of it, the last time I saw him they were together, Cahill and Cole. I'm not sure, but I don't like the sound of it."

"Alex said the same, he was worried."

"Do you think he knows more than he told you, when did he hear it?"

"Yesterday, in fact, it was Stuart who told me all of it, not Alex. Maybe he could tell you more himself if you asked him directly, I'm rather fond of him, I think he's a good kid but 'till recently he was part of Greg's bunch."

"Greg and Mister Fisher, that's more or less the same thing. He said he wanted to join the warriors."

"I believe him; he's a good friend of Stuart and seems to like you too."

"I'll have a serious talk with him. We must clear up this mystery." Miles didn't want to say more; he had some idea of what might be going on, had the boy been a victim of Greg, like Anthony, or even Carl? His handling of the Lorentz boys showed he was capable of it. Was the boy hurt? Was Cahill putting him back in shape? That was one scenario. If they could get to the boy and have him talk, have proof of Carl's abuse on a Saint Xavier boy–that could bring about the downfall of Fisher and his clique. All ideas of sex had deserted the marine but a large smile was now adorning his face.

"I apologize. I completely misconstrued things when I saw you in the dining hall calling to me. As you can see, I thought you meant something totally different. I hope I didn't offend you." Miles could not resist squeezing the boy's perfect thigh again. He was surprised when Brett set his smaller hand on his own for him to leave it in place.

"No, I was surprised. I knew you liked me. I can see the signs now, but I am one among many and I thought that you were with Sven. I wouldn't mind trying it, with you, for my first time. That companion thing has got me rather worried. All those seniors are after me. If it was known that I was with you they would leave me alone."

"Is that so? Have you or your friends been harassed or bullied?" Miles had to ask that question when what he really wondered and cared about was if the boy wanted him just for protection and not because he really liked him.

"Well, we juniors have to be careful around the campus, Eagle boys are the most aggressive, not so much at Bear House, probably thanks to you. True there are not that many seniors there anymore."

He had known of the shop incident but it had been focused on the refugee kids, and at the initiative of Omar Seku: this was different. The worst behaviors were becoming increasingly common. Something would have to be done.

"I'll see what I can do about it."

Miles' mind was still processing the news about Cole's fate and the possible consequences, wondering where he could be. It was not the time for a sexual romp with the virgin boy anymore but he didn't want to let it end that way. He passed his hand over Brett's blond head.

"So, you'd like to join me and Sven eventually?"

"That would be nice, it's quite new for me though, and I don't really know what it would mean." Brett was expressing himself like a much older boy while being still very naive about some subjects.

"Do you have any experience yet, you're twelve, is that so?"

"Yes, since March. Concerning … sex. I'm afraid not. Nothing much."

"Let's do it step by step then like I did with Sven. Do you masturbate, you know what that means?"

"Yes, but no, not really."

"Let's start there then. Come onto my lap, I'll show you how it's done right. I'm sure you'll love it!"

Miles was getting hard again. Pulling down Brett's shorts and underwear, he settled the boy's rump on his erection. The boy's cocklet was stirring to life. While he kissed the boy's lips, one hand caressed his smooth thighs and the other reached around to play with it and the sack below it.

"You have to learn how to kiss too." He needed to get more comfortable, so he raised the boy to free his engorged member from his slacks and boxer shorts then set the boy down again placing his rod along the child's hot and sweet crack, skin to skin.

"Do you feel me? Is it okay with you? You're a very pretty boy. I quite understand why you have so many suitors." Miles' hands were kneading and stroking the child's wonderful thighs, feasting on them and pushing him against his erection. It was going much further than a few kisses and a wank, as he had planned at first. "Tell me if you want me to stop." Miles paused a moment looking into the boy's eyes, hoping to see consent. "Okay, open your mouth and follow my lead."

Whether it was a need for protection or a real attraction for the marine that Brett felt made no difference. Miles started deep kissing the boy, sending his tongue to meet and rub with the child's while slowly grinding his member against his crack. Brett was responding shyly but did not seem repelled by the man's actions. Miles' right hand came back to the now fully erect cocklet and began to use all his talents to bring the boy to his first climax. He had wrapped his left arm around the boy's torso under his tee-shirt, holding him tight and bending him slightly to the side for better access to the boy's lovely face. From that angle, he could more easily judge the effect his actions produced on the lad. He found the boy's nipple and played with it. Brett was close, abandoned in his embrace, hazel eyes half-closed.

Miles was leaking abundantly and he was sure he would soon cum. One hand was still enjoying the boy's lissome thighs, testing the delicate inner skin, its texture, and elasticity. They were generous like those of the Japanese boy, Riichi, but more graceful and slender. That body part had a powerful erotic effect on the man. For now, he decided to leave the boy's pussy alone. That would be for later.

"You're beautiful, Brett, You're doing great, let it come naturally, don't resist it, don't be afraid, I love you." The child's hand had joined Miles and was guiding him, setting the rhythm. He was nibbling at his lips, discovering strange sensations. Miles was kissing his neck, nose and reddened cheeks before coming back to his willing mouth often.

Brett moaned softly as he came, his little prick jerking again and again for some time.

Miles intensified his rubbing against the boy's ass and exploded a few moments later as he brought the child to his second dry orgasm.

They stayed like that until their breathing was even again. Miles delicately kissed the child's brow, who returned the kiss on his lips.

"I think I made a big mess back there. Sorry," said Miles. "Did you like it?"

"Sure did. Didn't know it was that good. I thought the others were bragging about it. I thought I had more important interests to follow, god, how wrong I was!"

"Well, glad to see that, right now I think we should clean you up. We'll have to change our tee shirts I'm afraid. I have a few spare ones here.

He took off his shirt and the boy's, using it to wipe them both clean.

"Smells strange," said Brett.

"That's sperm or cum, but you know that already, certainly. Can't let you go around with that smell on you. Well, I won't be able to do a better job here; you can pull your jeans up."

"When do we do it again?" asked the boy excitedly.

"As soon as possible, just need to clear the way with Sven; don't want to do it behind his back. You don't mind?"

"Tonight perhaps?"

Was he hooked on those feelings already? wondered Miles. He'd definitely loved it.

"Not so fast young man, I'll see what can be done."

Miles was caught: he would have to contend with at least three boys now, probably more. But he did not regret it, that boy was worth all the problems that could come with him, just as much as any of the others.

"Perhaps, I'll do my best. You have a lot to learn yet. What we need right now is a shower. Let's go. Why not together?" He wanted to prolong that moment of complicity, discovery, and intimacy.

The boy nodded his approval. Miles could not avoid a last kiss before they both left his office: there was no more guilt or shame. He loved those boys, their spirit and their bodies, and wanted to express it in every way he could. There was no one to tell him what was right or wrong anymore except the boys themselves. If there were one or ten it was nobody's business, it was between him and them and it would be so for as long as it could last.

***

Sasha was hungry and miserable. All night long, he'd heard the cries and pleadings of Vicky: Harold and Nate were raping her, sometimes going at it together. At one point, they ordered him to participate, pulling off his shorts and forcing him to lie on the poor girl. When nothing happened, his pecker still flaccid, they laughed at him. He felt totally humiliated, guilty, and so stupid to have trusted them.

They were in an isolated house on the second floor, in the master bedroom. The two captives had not eaten anything since they had been put in the trunk of the car. They had no food to waste said the two cousins.

How long would it last, what would they do to them once they grew tired of her? It didn't look good. Escape was his only option–try to save the poor girl, if possible–he'd survived the ferals after all. Right now, it looked impossible; he was tied to a radiator with his hands behind his back. Despite trying for hours, the bonds were still secure. He was at their mercy. They were treating the girl as if she were already dead, and judging from what they were saying, it was apparent she would not be the first to know that fate. The situation was getting desperate. What he also feared was that they might get interested in him once they were done with her. Often between rounds with Vicky, they were talking of him as an interesting alternative. They said he was cute and quite girly in a way and had a lovely ass. Nate kept repeating that he was perhaps worth a try before they got rid of him, as he was now useless for anything else.

"Time for a smoke," said Harold, "this young bitch isn't the best we've had. Don't you think Nate?"

"You're right; she's not that much fun. At least she was an easy catch," answered Nate, seated on the girl and feeding her his cock. "She's doing good with her mouth though, she's learning."

"I'm sure Sasha here would perform just as well, we should test him, and his ass too never fucked one before. Boys are much easier to catch nowadays; we ought to find out if they're any good. I bet his ass is nice and tight."

"That would be gay," commented Nate pensively.

"Not really. It's the one getting fucked who's gay. We wanna fuck so we fuck what's available. Otherwise, we'd have to keep the girls rather than dump them. But then it'd be a hassle to have to watch them all the time: much less freedom."

"Okay then let's switch to the boy, I want the mouth, you can have his ass. Bring him over here."

"Wait, I want a smoke first." Harold, naked, went to the backpacks and retrieved his cigarettes and lighter, and then he went to the open window, it was still hot even that late at night.

Nate pulled his hard prick from the girl's mouth.

"I'll save my next load for Sasha then. True, that girl's not even as appealing as she was before." He had to recognize that he was getting rather excited by the prospect of humiliating and abusing the boy. "Don't move from there Vicky, I'll go fetch your little friend myself."

"You should go for his ass, Nate, open the way for me. You're smaller down there, should be easier for the first time."

"I'm not that small," replied Nate irritated.

"Never said you were. You always ask to be first. That's a virgin hole like any other. Use the opportunity."

Nate freed Sasha's hands, raised him up to his feet, and was hesitantly feeling up his buttocks.

"I'm not sure I'm that interested."

"Give it a shot, there's no risk."

"Go lie on the bed, boy, and don't try anything stupid that you'd regret."

"If he's any good we could play with him for a day or two, the girl would last longer too," added Harold, finishing his cigarette and lighting a second.

Sasha was looking at Vicky on the bed, her eyes were open, but she wasn't really there anymore. She was bruised and bloody, having fought at first, but not for long. He was now petrified, unable to move, he didn't want to be the next on that bed, even less, take her place.

"Move you little shit, get on that bed." Nate was looking around to see what he could use to hurt the boy if he didn't obey, that would be as much fun as sex, he thought. He saw the kid's baseball bat and picked it up. Perfect, and multipurpose, could threaten to impale his ass on it if he doesn't try hard enough to make us cum. Actually, that would be fun, watching him squirm, might just do it anyway. When he turned back toward the bed, Sasha wasn't there anymore!

It had happened in mere seconds. One moment he couldn't move and the next he was running toward the window. Harold was turning around at that moment after throwing away the second cigarette butt. He opened his mouth wide in surprise.

"What the fuck," he said, as Sasha tackled him in the abdomen, grabbing his upper arms, and propelling him backward and over the windowsill, clinging to him while he struggled in desperation. Harold's head hit the hard ground first, snapping his neck and cracking his skull with a thud. Sasha's fall was cushioned by the older boy's dead body and he only suffered a few scratches and bruises as he quickly rolled off the boy. He was then on his feet, running for cover immediately. In a flash, he was out of sight when Nate appeared in the window; gun in hand.

"Harold," he shouted, before rushing naked downstairs to check on him. Fucking little shit, if I catch you!

***

"So, what do you think of it Raymond," asked Carl.

"It looks good enough, how many do you plan to keep in there?" Raymond Tools was at Eagle house where Carl was showing him the result of some remodeling that had just been completed.

"Up to ten, I would say. The barred windows and locked doors are sturdy enough don't you think?"

"I'm no specialist but our boys seem to have made an excellent job of it."

"I think so too, and it's available now to meet our needs. Girls and women will be in a similar holding cell next to this one reserved for the boys."

"And I see you have direct access to the boys' cell."

"Yes, straight from my apartment, isn't that convenient. I've no direct access to the girls' cell; I don't plan on visiting that one too often."

"I won't either, now that I know what I want, thanks to you Carl."

"I never dreamed of having my own little "boy harem" or perhaps "boy brothel," since I'll share some of them. What name do you think would suit it best?"

"It doesn't matter much, does it?"

"No, of course not. Still, I find that just pronouncing those words and anticipating the future, provokes such an erotic excitement in me. Only the best of us will have access to the captive boys, or girls–and on the same floor as the game room. All tastes are catered to. I still wonder if it's for real or not, we've come so far in so little time."

Tools was amused by the man's enthusiasm, though he couldn't deny the attraction, it also held for him, even if it was a little outrageous in the circumstances. It seemed Carl had not waited long before bringing to life some of his old, deep-rooted fantasies.

"Who else knows about these alterations?"

"Only the core group. Those boys we can trust. This floor will be their new home. You should join us here too, Raymond."

"Why not? But I would have to bring my boy too. I'm not sure he would like that."

"Like coming here or like what he may see?"

"What he may see, I would say. We should wait 'till our position is better established and it no longer matters who knows."

"Do you think he might tell Dunn or Louise?"

"Or someone else. He's a good kid if you know what I mean: hasn't made the shift to this new world yet."

"And who is he? I've mostly seen you with club boys."

"Chandler Terril."

"Chandler, our star actor? Only logical, you know him well. Really, that's a good catch. Bravo. I'm up for seconds if you get tired, anytime."

"Doesn't let me fuck him yet but I'm working on it. That's why I still have the need of your club boys."

"How do you feel about your true sexual drive?" Carl had felt the man's internalized anger, still present since the realization of his boy lover nature. It was probably what had drawn him to Carl's side, which was by no means certain at first.

"I don't know how I was able to hide it from myself for so long."

"It is clear to me that quite a few teachers like your channel and sublimate their sexual attraction to boys or girls into their work and dedication–like priests. They are often the best teachers we have. But you have not answered my question."

"You're right, sometimes I feel guilty, but most of the time, I feel anger. I want to hurt someone."

"That's what I thought. You haven't fully accepted who you are yet, but I like the anger that you feel at the moment, it could become very useful. Soon, with luck, you'll be able to deploy it without restraint, just as soon as we get our first tenants in those cells. Perhaps you could start with young Chandler. Once he's been fucked, willingly or not, he'll be yours and he'll see that it's not such a big deal. He has to learn who the master is. I must say I have a bad streak myself that I'm becoming more inclined to exert. It's all rather exciting, spices things up."

"I felt like doing that more than once. Still, I love that boy. I've worked hours and hours with him in rehearsals, discussing the meaning and beauty in the texts we studied. I don't want to jeopardize our relationship nor the image of me he still harbors."

"Well, he's your boy. You do with him as you please. Perhaps it's best if we reserve harsher treatments for those in the cells; after all, they are expendable and can easily be replaced. I've made mistakes of that kind myself recently. It could have caused a backlash but at the same time, it was thrilling. I don't regret it.

"I'm going on an expedition tomorrow with Greg and a few others. Perhaps we should bring you back some specimens."

"I would love it, though I think it's perhaps a bit early. But be sure to make the best of it if the opportunity arises. Go to whatever extremes you wish and give free rein to our boys too. I'd be very interested to know how far they're willing to go. Be sure to tell me every detail when you get back, I need to know if they're ready to take the next step or not. Choose them well."

"I see what you mean. It will be a test for me too. I'm not sure I'm ready to go that far."

"The first time is always difficult. After that, it becomes easier, you forget your inhibitions, and you'll become what you were meant to be. I'm sure you'll love it, you've got it in your bones; believe me. What's the objective?"

"A farm: a mother and her two sons. We went on a reconnaissance mission the other day. It should be easy, the kids are cute and the right age. You're sure you don't want me to fetch you one?"

"You tempt me, but no, not quite yet. I'm not sure if Dunn and I want to have our boys toughened up first, maybe we'll see them take that path by themselves. We'll have to do a few more of those expeditions with different groups to see who meets our expectations. We're asking a big leap of them. It is our own Lord of the Flies: will they follow Ralph or will they choose Jack? Will they join us on the darker path? I'm confident but not quite sure of the outcome."

"Shirley's group has shown quite an aptitude to the "dark side," as she jokingly calls it."

"You're right; I plan to use them as my close-knit guard. They've lived with death at the gymnasium for weeks and participated in our chosen solution to resolve that crisis, we can certainly count on them not to flinch in most situations."

"We lost Silva, but our boys were quite good at the mall, they held their ground and didn't panic."

"Yes, I must admit, Dunn and Louise have done a very good job. I would hate to have to part from them just yet."

"I rather like Dunn; he was very appreciative of my play and seemed sincere."

"We all praised you. Well, it's getting late; I'll go get Enrico and the others in the game room."

"And I'll go see if I can find Chandler, he's sure to be waiting for me."

"Ain't we lucky that way and it's only the beginning!"

***

Miles had finished his rounds for the evening, he had gone alone, Sven was playing with William, and Anthony was nowhere to be seen. He felt a bit lonely; it would have been the perfect moment to tell either one of them or both of them, that a new boy was going to enter their small circle. He was inclined to think it would not be too much of a problem. Anthony was his own man and rather independent, Sven might not be too pleased with the news but he certainly knew he was loved by now and that nothing would really change between them. Miles was pleasantly surprised by the lack of jealousy those boys showed. The sexual act in itself seemed to have much less meaning and importance than with adults. As long as they felt cared for, they were happy. At least that was his impression, he was still relatively new to these sorts of relationships and could be wrong.

What was clear also was that he had still not mastered his sexual drive. He had more boys than he could reasonably tend to already and didn't need to have one more. Even so, all he thought about as soon as he had a quiet moment was boys. He could not escape it, over time more would be added to the list, a fact he had to accept, though he had fought with it at first. It was so and probably nothing could change it in the foreseeable future. It was a great relief, he could behave the way he had always wanted, and there was no need to hide his feelings or desires. Provided no one was hurt, he would follow that path.

Brett was a beautiful and endearing boy, despite his superior intellect he was still a child with all the need for affection and reassurance of any boy his age, even more so in these troubled times. The intense ecstasy of his orgasm had left a profound impression on him and Miles suspected he might become one of the most demanding of his young lovers. It had been the case again under the shower where he had immediately given himself to the man who had engulfed his immature genitals and played with his glistening body. He had loved that first blowjob, said he was ready to reciprocate and was still asking for more when they left the place. Miles promised him he would very soon be initiated in all there was to know. Time was limited or he would have done it on the spot, besides, it was important to clear it with Sven first.

As he entered the warriors' gathering room there was a crowd. Sven and William were still playing with the Edwards twins, it was a board game and it seemed far from over. As soon as he had appeared, Brett's eyes had lit up and his hand had gone to his crotch. He had learned his earlier lesson and he was ready for more. Matthew was alone, it was often the case lately since most evenings Bob, Walt, and Chad were nowhere to be seen, though you probably could have heard them if you stood in front of one of the rooms down the corridor. The boy came for him right away, seeking some comfort, feeling shunned by the trio, perhaps Anthony was the solution but he was not there, which certainly meant his attempt at seduction had failed.

"What are you doing, Matthew?"

"They left me again, to have their fun together." There was some resentment in his words and a pout on his face, and with his arms crossed, he stated, "I'm bored!"

"They've just discovered each other, give them some time and they'll come back to you. Or perhaps you could join them?" Miles was curious to hear the child's answer while his eyes devoured the slight frame of Brett talking with Stuart and Alex only a few feet away.

"No, that's not for me, not yet."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, that's private. What are you doing now, could I come to play in your room for a bit?"

What Miles wanted right now was to pick up Brett and take him to his cubicle to make love until morning but he had enough strength of character to postpone this moment and decided to devote time to his well-liked dependent boy.

"Of course, my laptop is waiting for you." Come to think of it, Miles could find some pleasure in delaying his meeting with Brett, build up his need and later enjoyment. Besides, a few moments with Matthew was always a delight and he might learn more about Anthony's attempt at seduction.

The boy took his hand and pulled him along, they didn't have far to go still, on the way, they met with Logan and his shy friend Ken playing with Ginger.

"Teaching her new tricks?" he asked the boys.

"Maybe, we'll show you later," answered Logan in a conspiratorial tone.

"Later, then." Matthew was pulling harder, obviously wanting to avoid anyone joining them and ruining their moment alone together.

A few moments later, the boy was sitting on his lap, playing a Star Wars game. Miles had told him he was perhaps too old to sit that way.

"There's no one to see me and I like it like this," he replied, pushing himself backward and against the man.

"Comfortable?"

"Mmm," was all he said. He certainly liked it, as much as Miles who loved it too. It didn't matter if he was hard, his dick against the child's buns, whether because of their intimacy or because he thought of Brett. No explanation was necessary. The child knew what it meant and could interpret it any way he wanted, there had been many such moments in the past weeks. Perhaps it would be the trigger to reveal some confidences but so far, Matthew was engrossed in the game.

Miles had extended the number of games available on his laptop for such occasions. It was fascinating to see the concentration and dexterity the boys could display. Contrary to most people, the marine thought they could have a beneficial effect, of course, he may have been biased. As he mused over those ideas and others, his right hand was playing with the boy's hair and the left one enjoying the child's smooth naked thigh. He could have stayed like that for hours and let the time pass, content with the simplicity and authenticity of the moment. His erection had gone and he had not tried to learn more about Anthony's bid for the boy's affection.

"Am I interrupting anything?" It was Sven, done with his own game, who had entered the room, "I saw you leave together earlier."

"Not at all, just playing a game, like you."

"There are different kinds of games."

"Look at Matthew, his eyes haven't left the screen, it's as if we're not here. Want to play at the other kind?"

"Always ready for that."

"What do we do with," Miles pointed at Matthew still captivated.

"He can stay or join us, whatever."

"No, I'll leave you two, I'm almost done," declared the boy without losing his concentration, "just need to finish this level."

Miles smiled at Sven; the boy was not at all oblivious of his surroundings, the little scamp!

***

Harold's lifeless body was on the couch in the living room. Nate had dressed and was feeling desperate, he was all alone now and the sense of isolation filled him with dread. He'd tried finding the kid, intent on killing him: slowly and painfully, make the little shit pay–but he had to give up. It was a hopeless task; he could be miles away by now. What could he do? The girl upstairs was still cowering on the bed, her eyes empty. That's when he decided to burn it all, Harold's body, the girl, the house, everything, just take the car and go. He gathered all he needed and put it in the vehicle. In the garage, he found gasoline and spilled it everywhere, on the couch, in the kitchen, on the stairs–what a spectacle it would be. As he was coming back into the house, lighter in hand, ready to set it on fire, he saw a shadow entering his field of vision on the left. As the flame flickered on, he was struck with full force on the side of his head and was gone in an instant, the lighter falling with him.

Sasha was poised ready to strike again. Still naked, clutching his baseball bat, he felt angry and powerful but his confidence turned to alarm–the fire was catching. VICKY!

He sprinted up the stairs and into the bedroom.

"Vicky, come on, hurry, Nate set the house on fire, they can't hurt you anymore–WE GOTTA GO!"

But she wasn't listening, she was not moving, was she … dead?

Shaking her brought no reaction. She was still in shock. Turning her over, she looked at him but it was as if she didn't really see him.

He didn't have a choice. Wrapping her in the quilt from the bed, he dragged her to the door. How could she be that heavy? There was smoke, the fire had taken hold downstairs, the couch was in flames they didn't have much time.

"Please Vicky help me, you got to help me." He didn't think for a second of leaving her behind. Finally, little by little, as they reached the stairs she pulled herself up and started walking. "Good, let's move, FAST!"

They went down the stairs one at a time. Too slow … it felt like an eternity to Sasha. Toxic black smoke started to fill the stairway causing him to start coughing. The heat of the flames was getting stronger. At last, they got to the ground floor … just a few paces to the exit. The fire was engulfing the house to their right, catching in the ceiling, as they passed the door, just in time, the gasoline on the stairs ignited with a bang and spread to the second floor. The whole structure was now ablaze. They ran, even Vicky, despite her confused state, was getting back her survival instinct.

They were naked or half-naked, traumatized, afraid but alive and free again. Sasha opened the passenger door and helped Vicky in, covering her with the quilt, and then sat in the driver's seat. He knew Harold always left the keys behind the sun visor, a minute later he was driving away not looking back.

***

It took a good five minutes for Matthew to finish his level and as he left, he did not forget to kiss Miles goodnight. Then he was gone.

"He likes you," said Sven approvingly.

"He is a sweet boy, I love him too."

"That makes a lot of boys, you love."

"You're right Sven, does it bother you?"

"Not really." He had come to stand beside the man who encircled his waist to bring him closer.

"Are there boys you feel close to, who you love?" Miles was curious to know.

"Feel close to, a few, William first, Walt also, if you consider him a boy still. Love is a different thing."

"There are many kinds of love, you know."

"Yes, but right now, there is only you that I love."

Miles was touched; it was said simply but with heart. He stood up and kissed the boy, lifting him and taking him to the bed.

"I'm sorry, it may appear selfish, but it is likely that I don't know how to limit myself to one boy. Can you understand … accept that?"

"It's nothing new, I saw you at the barbecue, and there's Anthony, Matthew…"

"You saw me? I'm not very proud of my behavior that night. I was slightly drunk but it's no excuse."

As they were talking, Miles had started undressing the boy, not that there were a lot of clothes to take off him. A sleeveless tee-shirt, gym shorts, underwear, and sneakers. He had taken the habit of doing it every evening, finding the act very erotic. Even more than the striptease that Anthony performed for him when they first met. He took his time slipping each garment over the sensuous skin and body that he sampled and caressed accordingly. The boy was erect and ready for anything.

"It doesn't matter, really."

"If you say so." Miles was playing with Sven's hard stick, rubbing the glans, sending a glance to the winking hole close by about to welcome his own rigid member.

Sven raised himself from the bed to brush his lips against the man's own; it was a clear invite. Brett would have to wait; this would be an evening and night devoted to Sven.

"We're almost out of lube."

"We can use spit, it works."

"I could go fetch some cooking oil?"

"No, don't leave me; I need you inside me, now."

"There's nothing I want more either."

Miles undressed rapidly, picked the almost empty tube from the bedside table pressing it to obtain only a dab of lube that he smeared on the boy's hole and inside using a finger. His tongue had entered the child's mouth silencing both of them for the moment.

As soon as he judged the orifice sufficiently slicked he turned the boy onto his left side facing away and raised his right leg to spread his familiar crevice. He was slightly bent over the boy's back, their heads turned and level with each other, eye to eye and set to kiss.

"Now!" pleaded the boy as Miles rubbed his glans across the child's hot crack, letting it get caught in the ripe and fit orifice at each pass through without attempting to enter it. He was teasing, intensifying the expectation

Sven was breathing hard, bracing for the imminent penetration that didn't come.

Miles was leaking precum, leaving a trail. He was excited and wanting the boy but still delaying the inevitable, basking in that feeling of exquisite anticipation.

"Please, Miles, do it!" appealed the child again. The man, increasing the pressure each time, only to relent just before it would go in. Sven was pushing back in desperation, wanting to be filled, to be one with his lover.

Miles was basking in a sentiment of power and plenitude, in the knowledge he was the only one to decide when it would be time to fulfill the child's desire. All the while, he kissed and caressed the cherished slender body.

It came at last, there were no more precautions, the boy was well used to the intruder, and how to surrender to it, there was still some pain but it was now part of the pleasure and accepted. On that last pass, Miles went in forcefully, half of his nine inches disappearing on the first go. Sven held his breath to give himself time to accommodate the invasion. Miles stayed like that for a few seconds before launching his second attack and finally feeling his pubes pressing against the child's smooth butt cheeks. He made a small pause again before starting the real fucking using long strokes, almost pulling out followed by either fast or slow thrusts. One of his hands had gone to the boy's cocklet and nutsack, the other he used to steady the immature and defenseless body that he covered now almost completely and jammed against the mattress.

Sven liked it that way, to feel at the same time helpless, at the man's mercy but also the center of all his attention, the receptacle of his love. He felt the welcome tingling that announced his first climax, there could be four or five in a row, still dry, but that forcefully rocked him each time. He didn't know what he preferred, the physical or psychological satisfaction, probably the mix of both, what was the worth of one without the other.

Miles felt the boy's first climax that shook the fragile body under him. He was still afraid to break something when his lovemaking was overcome by his passion but he had learned how sturdy those young creatures were. The warm sheath enclosing his member contracted, enhancing his own pleasure. Miles was not yet ready to cum; he had learned to delay his orgasm to pursue the intercourse for a long time. Sven, besides being a wonderful boy on many levels had now also become a great lover. He felt again the boy climaxing as his glans rubbed against the little nub of his prostate, he could do it several times in a row, the wonders of youth.

The man kept the back and forth motion for fifteen minutes before saying, "Let's change position for my finish, love, face to face."

They moved around, Sven holding his legs up, knees to his shoulders. Miles on top, his groin cushioned by the boy's butt, all nine inches buried deep inside, ready to piston away. He was bent over so that his gaze was level with the child's, face and mouth accessible for a kiss, his hands pressing and kneading the supple thighs.

He went for it slowly at first, speeding up the rhythm so as to become a blur of exquisite sensations, feeling his orgasm building up steadily, enhanced by the boy's facial expressions under him. As he exploded in the child's far down recesses, he kissed his open mouth, sucking in his tongue to release it with his last jet of cum.

Once spent, he shifted and moved to his back, bringing the boy with him still somewhat erect and embedded in the child.

"Let's stay this way, 'till I'm ready for the second round," said Miles, kissing the boy's sweaty brow.

"Brett is the new boy?"

"Brett?"

"I saw him, I saw you leave during dinner."

"Yes, he is … well, he could be. I wanted to talk to you first though before going any further."

"Does it change anything between us?"

"No, I don't think so."

"Like Alex, Richi, the others?"

"No, more like you and me or Anthony, I would think, something more serious, not just sex. It's too early to say yet."

"Will he share our room?

"I don't know really but I would say yes, that's something I would like. We'll need to move, get a bigger room, don't you think?

"Well, it's okay with me. He's a nice kid."

"Thank you, Sven. I hoped you would say something like that." Miles was relieved, he had been confident but you never knew. So far, he had yet to find a flaw in that beautiful boy, he was brave, smart, generous, and in love with him. The man was blessed; there was no other way to describe it. Was Brett going to be of the same level of excellence? He would discover that quite soon now.

"Perhaps it would be wise to get a really big room if you plan to get more boys," added Sven, with a clever smile.

"You are humoring me, Sven. I can't blame you. One could wonder: who is the adult here?"

"Well, I can feel something much bigger than me stirring down there, so I guess you are."

Sven started stimulating the rising snake inside his bum.

"Yes, you've awakened the beast it seems. Let's make it last even longer this time. This night is yours!"

***

"No, no way!"

"But Chand, all the boys do it now, it's no big deal."

"You promised me it would not be like that."

"You know I love you, I really do. It's simply a different way to express it."

"Not for me, I don't want it."

"It won't hurt, I'll be very careful. I'm sure many of your friends have done it already, you must have talked with them."

"I don't care, I'm not like them."

Raymond Tools was having difficulty controlling himself. Carl's words were resonating in his head. Whatever he says, do it! Show him who the master is.

It had started so well that evening. The boy had been waiting for him. He had taken him to his apartment, an arm across his shoulder every night for a week now. He was able to kiss him, hold him, and fondle him, but as usual with his clothes on: it was a step forward but with a long way to go yet.

He had not dared tell Carl that so far the most he'd achieved was little more than the boy's company. Was he being used as a subterfuge, a way to escape the many suitors such a beautiful boy was sure to attract? What better way was there than to have the protection of a teacher to scare away any pushy senior? At the same time, he knew the boy liked him, even admired him in a sense. They had spent so much time together, often alone, for the two years prior to the flu. For an experienced teacher, it was not hard to recognize when a special bond was established with one of your students. Of course, there had been nothing sexual at that time. Now it was different. The problem was that nothing he'd learned in his life had taught him how to seduce an unwilling boy. His only experience on the matter of sex and seduction came from the books and authors he had read and studied for so many years and boys were rarely mentioned if at all. He could use force–he would have loved that–but not with Chand, a boy he truly wanted to love. A love he still hoped would be reciprocated.

His rage had been mounting, it had been doing so for weeks now and he'd come to accept it. So far, it had been used sparingly on some of the club boys, a spank, a pinch, a bite, an insistent deep throating. How much longer could he keep it in check? He would hate to see it unleashed on that wonderful child. Tomorrow's expedition would give him the opportunity to get rid of some of it. He didn't know what form it would take but one of the two boys at that farm would be subjected to it: that much was certain … at least, that was the plan. Either he did it, or he would lose control here in the school and he didn't want that.

"If you don't want to accept any of that, what use are you to me? Why did you choose me? I would be better off with another boy!"

"But you said you liked me … loved me." That last word was obviously difficult to leave the boy's pretty mouth.

"I did, but not anymore, you're selfish, you take but you give nothing in return. Perhaps you should leave." Let him think I can reject him. Perhaps that will work. "Yes, that would be for the best, no more of this farce!"

Chandler did not answer right away; he was unsettled by this new attitude, so far Raymond had accepted the limits he had set at the beginning of their relationship. It had never occurred to him that he would demand such things of him. This was his literature teacher talking, the passionate man who had initiated him to the wonders and beauty of words, had elevated him, and shared his understanding of the world. When the flu had turned their lives upside down and the companion system had been established, he was the only one Chandler could think of pairing himself with. He had sought safety and affection, someone he thought he could trust but the man had changed. He wanted more, something the boy, unsure of himself and of his own desires was afraid to give. In the beginning, when the man had asked for sex, the boy had accepted, genuinely thinking that it would only take place later when he felt ready. They had agreed on that but it wasn't enough for Raymond who pressed him with more and more insistence each day.

Chandler was well aware of what was happening all over the school and at Eagle House more than anywhere else. If it weren't for Raymond Tools, that he still rather liked and admired, he would have fallen prey to many of the seniors. Like many others in those troubled times, he was adrift, looking for a refuge, clinging to whatever semblance of normality still remained, trying to safeguard what was left of his life from before. Raymond Tools was the largest most important part of that. So much had vanished.

"Sorry, I need more time, could you give me some more time?"

"I don't know if you're worth it anymore. Who else is there for you besides me? Who cares for you as I do?"

"What do you want?"

"Everything, I want you to give yourself to me, let me do with you as I wish."

"You're not the teacher I knew before. He would never have asked that."

"No, I'm not the same, you're right. No one is. So do we have a deal, no more loopholes?"

"Do I have a choice? Is that what you really want? To force me?"

"It is. You have no idea of all the things I could do if I wanted to. Come to the bedroom, I want you naked in bed with me, now."

"What will you do?"

"I don't know yet, whatever I fancy."

Raymond exulted as he watched the boy slowly and reluctantly undress, it had been quite easy in the end. He followed suit until they were both naked. He then led the boy to the bed, his erection brushing against the boy's gorgeous ass with each step. An ass that now belonged to him to do with as he wished. Carl was right, no more asking, you took what you wanted. The boy was more distraught than afraid he thought, having surrendered this time without conditions. The man felt an irrepressible desire to hurt, to defile him, but knew that if he lost control anything could happen and that the boy would be lost to him forever.

It would never be the same and he knew he still needed to see that flame of respect and esteem in the boy's eyes even if greatly tarnished. He was becoming insane; wanting to destroy what he cherished the most. He suspected one spark could be enough to unleash his pent up fury. No, not tonight, he needed to restrain himself a few more hours. Once again, he counted on the next day to be able to finally let go, do it away from the school and without consequences to himself, and thus restore a manageable level of anger.

"You're so beautiful, so perfect. You don't know how pleased I feel that you chose me. I know that you don't want to do it yet; you're afraid; I can understand that. However, if you accept being mine, you have to trust me, let me do with you as I see fit." As he spoke his hand was coursing over the boy's body, for the first time he had unlimited access to it. It was exhilarating and dangerous, he needed to set rules for this first night and do it fast. He could feel the boy's slight shudder each time he got close to the more intimate parts, but he had to take possession of them.

"Calm down, don't worry so much. I propose that our bodies simply become acquainted for now. Perhaps a few kisses and a wank. Do you know what I'm talking about? Very simple things that I'm sure you'd like as much as I do. What do you say?"

"I'm here to obey. Isn't that so?"

Quit that tone boy, you don't realize what's at stake.

"If you want to see it that way; then let's start, let's learn to enjoy each other. Let's see if I can make you cum."

As he held the boy close, he seized the flaccid cocklet and rubbed it, trying to elicit a response. Though he lacked Carl's expertise, and the boy was not as experienced as any of the boys he had lain with these last few weeks, he felt sure he would get a result. He was himself very much aroused and pressed his rigid member against the boy's smooth thigh while kissing his pouty lips. Chandler had grudgingly agreed but never said he would participate, he was limp in his arms.

It took some time but finally, he felt a stirring and growth: the start of an erection.

"Is it that bad? Why are you making it so difficult? We could share pleasure rather than dissent."

There was no answer, Chandler was not going to cooperate, he was sulking; he had always been stubborn with a tenacious will.

"Why do I bother?" It was enough. He let go of the tumescent pricklet. "Turn around." Reluctantly, and now really fearful, the boy obeyed, offering his delicious backside to the man's attentions.

I could shove it in, why delay it? Tear him up and finish down his throat, that's what I should do, I tried the easy way, he doesn't want to listen.

"Please, no, don't do it, not yet. I'll do anything else you want!"

"I'm afraid it's too late. How can I resist such beauty?" he replied, his hands full of the boy's smooth and taut ass, pulling the cheeks apart to reveal the puckered hole hidden there.

"Please."

Seated on the child's legs, Raymond's cock was poised at the entrance. Chandler was now agitated, he was trying to get free, escape but to no avail. He was pinned down and helpless. There would be no preparation–no lube–it would be a pure and simple rape. There would be excruciating pain and certainly blood. That was what the man wanted, it was absurd while inescapable, nothing could stop him, the little bitch had played with him, refused him, and he was worth nothing: he had earned this treatment. Those boys were his weakness, an infirmity that would stay with him always. It was intolerable; a torment that he knew would never leave him. And yet … he dearly loved the boy and hated himself for thinking that way of him.

"Please, sir, no, everything, I'm sorry, please!"

***

It was getting late. Sven, finally satiated, had fallen asleep lying on Miles, his head poised for a last kiss, his legs captive between the man's own legs.

Whatever Carl had said about the boy growing up, they had months, probably years, left to enjoy each other. Death was always a possibility but its menace was less present now, anyway you became used to everything and Miles was now thinking of the future again. One where boys would be very much present and not much else had any real importance.

He was trying to imagine what it would look like, one hand caressing the child's back, listening to his even breathing when his radio beeped. He picked it up right away to avoid awaking Sven.

"Dunn."

"It's Melvin Furst, at the main gate. There might be a problem."

"A problem?"

"We're not quite sure. I think I saw someone crossing the road two, three hundred yards away. Not easy to tell but the night is quite clear … It could have been an animal though."

"I'm coming. Call for reinforcements but do not sound the alarm."

Miles put down the radio and gently shook the boy, kissed his brow.

"Sven, wake up, I need you."

"Yes, what is it?"

"An alert at the main gate."

"An alert!" The boy was immediately fully awake.

"Find Stuart and Brett; tell them to join me there with their drones, if the night vision has been implemented."

Sven jumped from the bed and put on his shorts, not bothering with the semen running down one leg, then his sneakers, and he was gone. Miles wasn't far behind.

As he reached the gate, the reinforcement was already there, ten boys with their guns ready. On the way, he had called all the guard posts for any other sign of menace or uncanny events that evening.

"Anything else, since you called?" he asked Melvin.

"No, I hope I did not call you for nothing."

"Never for nothing, you have the slightest doubt, you have to call. I think I said the same thing to Arthur a few days back."

"What do we do now?" asked Mike Healy in charge of the reinforcement unit that evening.

"Deploy and watch the edge of the forest. That's all for the moment. I'm waiting for our surveillance experts."

"Who are they?"

"You'll see, very soon." Miles himself was looking attentively at the dense forest that started close to the school fence. The counter fire operations had pushed it back somewhat and all the undergrowth had been burned, but at night, even a clear one like this, there was little visibility. There could be an army hiding in there.

Five minutes later, he saw Sven, Stuart, and Brett running towards them bearing the requested equipment.

"Stuart, you're the expert, we may have visitors hiding in the forest. Do we have a chance of finding them with your drones?"

The boy was half-awake, his hair in disorder, like Sven and Brett he was shirtless, it was hot, without the slightest breeze.

"Visitors? Are they going to attack?" Now the boy was fully awake.

"We're sure of nothing. That's why we need you. Can you help?"

"Of course we can help," answered Brett, who had already set up his laptop and was ready to launch the first drone.

"We brought two, we'll cover more ground that way, it'll be faster," added Stuart, getting ready also. "Where should we start looking?"

"Melvin?" asked Miles.

"It went to the right side of the road. It should be there if it was human."

"Or feral," added Miles, "they could use scouts for all we know. Let them fly, night vision is on but will it be enough with such dense foliage?"

"I would think so," said Brett, confidently.

The drones left the ground together and took off in the direction of the forest where they separated. Brett and Stuart were intently watching their laptop screens. Some time passed in silence.

"Got something," said Brett.

"What is it?" asked Miles, watching over his shoulder, hands settled on his waist.

Three white spots had appeared on the screen, immobile, the drone was hovering above them.

"Human?" demanded Melvin.

"Hard to say, but could be," said Brett.

"Where are they?" asked Miles.

"Three hundred yards to our right." The distance and position of the drone were clearly stated on the screen.

"I've got something too," exclaimed Stuart. "Three, also not moving."

"Okay, look around to see if there are other such groups."

"What do you think they are?" asked Sven.

"Can't be a coincidence. They're human. Might be kids looking for a refuge afraid to show themselves at night, but due to their position on each side of the road, they could be members of a group with more nefarious intent or even ferals, It wouldn't surprise me after what we saw of their behavior lately."

"What can we do, go after them?" Melvin wondered.

"I took care of that already," said Miles. First, we need to know if there are more and where to find them." He opened his radio. "Louise, are you in position?"

"Yes, we are, reception is good: loud and clear. There are ten of us; Walt and Arthur are with me." She had gathered them and they had been riding fast using the secondary entrance to post themselves possibly behind the intruders.

"Loud and clear for me too. So far we have two groups of three, one on each side of the road, about three hundred yards west of the main gate which is highly suspicious. Get ready to cut off their retreat if we decide to start moving."

"So, that's for real, we go after them?" Melvin said.

"We need to know who it is and what they are doing here. Check your weapons boys."

The excitement of the first moments was giving way to apprehension in the fifteen boys gathered around the gate.

"Anything else … Stuart, Brett?"

"How far do you want us to go?"

"One mile should be enough, Brett."

The two boys behind their screens had their drones going in circles to cover as much ground as possible, farther and farther from the school walls.

"Sir! There's a vehicle on the road coming this way!" said Stuart in a loud voice out of surprise.

And indeed, they soon heard the sound of a motor coming closer.

"Only one? Check it out, Stuart!"

Everyone was on alert, weapons ready. No one thought it could be a coincidence.

"Only one, it's a car."

"Hold your fire, until you're told otherwise," ordered Miles, then in the radio, "Louise stay put, there's a car coming down the road," and then to Stuart and Brett, "Try to find our visitors again, tell me what they're doing."

"Yes, sir," answered Stuart, taking his role quite seriously. "Still there, they've not moved."

"Same here," added Brett.

The headlights could now be seen, the car was getting closer, going at a normal speed.

"Watch the forest, boys, and get ready for anything. We outnumber them, no need to worry, and don't shoot until you're told to, and remember, don't leave your finger on the trigger."

The car was now in sight and was slowing down.

"They're moving, going away," Brett and Stuart said together.

"Louise, they are moving away from the fence. We still don't know who they are or what their intentions are, try to intercept them. If they're ferals, kill them all!"

The car had stopped in front of the closed gate, the car door was slowly opening, with the headlights it was impossible to see how many people were in there, but as soon as the driver came into sight, one name was on everyone's tongue: Lewis Silva.

Chapter 22

What a stench … Ferals! Mustn't make a sound … Gotta keep still…wait 'til they've gone … the best chance of escape?

Lewis Silva needed to pee so much! What would happen if he let go? Would they know it? His headache was going away but his head still felt sticky with blood.

Dead bodies were surrounding him, and that fact probably saved his life–he had been mistaken for one of them. What annoyed him most was that Greg and his friends had not returned to check on him. When ordered back to the vehicles, they had forgotten about him. He had been left for dead, and he would tell them what he thought of that when he got back to Saint Xavier.

Some ferals were still around but none too close. Picking up his gun, he rolled away from the pile of dead bodies and started to crawl, careful to avoid any noise. Fifty feet away, there were cars in the parking lot. They would be his ticket back to school.

I need to pee, God, how I need to pee! I must take my time, not rush it; there are still a few of those bastards around. I still have three clips of ammunition. I'll make it! Should I make a run for the nearest car … break the window? What if it doesn't start? What if it's out of gas? What about the keys? I could pee in my pants: but would they smell it? Just hold it, concentrate on getting away from this place first.

Five minutes later, he made it to the first vehicle. Looking around, he saw no one, so he raised himself to a crouch. That is when he was suddenly hit with dizziness and a splitting headache. The effects of his concussion had not worn off and he waited a minute before moving again. It wasn't until the third car that he got lucky, its door was open and the keys were in the ignition.

Thank god!

Sitting behind the wheel, he slowly shut the door, feeling less dizzy than before. After a quick look around, he tentatively tried the ignition and silently prayed. The noise was sure to attract ferals… It started the first time… huge relief… For the first time in years, he made the sign of the cross and kissed the one around his neck. Nothing could stop him now. That's when he put on the lights and heard them, it was an eerie sound, half-human, half-animal, and as he turned the corner toward the main parking lot, he saw them.

A mass of several hundred turned towards him and the car: a terrifying sight, illuminated by the car's headlights. They were closing in fast, now running. He just had time to do a handbrake turn, as the first of them tried to grasp the rear of the car. Accelerating towards the exit, he saw more coming from the Publix (Supermarket food chain). His heart pounded in his chest; it felt like it was going to explode; his senses were in hyper-mode. Two of them threw themselves at the car trying to stop it; one was sent rolling over the hood of the car and onto the windshield, the other off to the side. Time seemed to have stopped and he thought he would never make it; eventually he reached the main road and safety.

It wasn't until ten minutes later that the panic started to subside and he felt calm enough to slow down. It was pitch black out there, or perhaps it was his eyes that did not see as they should, the dizziness was still there. He took a deep breath; now his only problem would be to find the way back to the school.

***

"If you can get to Teller Road before they cross it, you've got a chance, otherwise at night you'll never catch them," said Miles on the radio.

"We'll make it," answered Louise. She knew those woods inside out and knew how to get there in the given time. "We'll take position at Teller Road and wait for them, they must not escape us," she told the boys and ordered them to follow her at a gallop.

"If they are ferals, you shoot on sight, and if you miss, you give pursuit." Miles was watching on Brett's laptop screen, the three white dots moving fast in that direction.

Louise had met with Walt and Arthur at the barn, who were leading eight more boys; they were Sven, Anthony, William, Matthew, Bob, the Edwards twins, and Mike. They had gathered them and distributed weapons–now kept at Bear House since the committee incident. The course of action had been decided by Miles as soon as he had had a better assessment of the situation at the main gate. The night was clear, which helped a lot and they had left through the secondary entrance. The boys, though young, had been chosen from among the warriors, probably the best trained and reliable at their disposal and almost all of them had seen action already. Louise's main worry was friendly fire, in the forest at night. She had told them repeatedly to hold their fire if they did not have their target clearly in sight. It was logical to think they were facing ferals but if they were not and also had firearms, then that was another worry.

As soon as they had reached their destination, she had everyone off their horse and finding a tree behind which to wait for their quarry. She was still concerned, how would they react in the middle of a fight surrounded by gunfire?

"Miles, we're here, are they still coming?"

"Yes, but they've separated; we can't follow all of them, the two we did follow are almost upon you."

"Get ready; they're coming."

They had deployed at a distance of about twenty-five yards along the road, Louise at the center, Walt and Arthur at each extremity. They would have very little time to identify and react to the intruders. It had been decided that they shoot in the air to startle and stop whoever was coming, shout a warning. It would give them some time, she hoped, to take the right course of action.

"Almost there," she was warned by the radio.

Two emerged from the forest simultaneously, one in front of Bob who was near Louise, the other to the left of Walt. There was no doubt for those who saw them. They were ferals, half-naked and running surprisingly fast. Bob adapted to the situation right away and shot at the feral coming towards him instead of in the air. His aim was accurate and the man was dead instantly: three bullets in his torso, two from Bob, one from Louise. Walt opened fire too and wounded his target, a woman who kept running, entering the woods on the other side of the road, gone from sight almost immediately. Two more appeared from the woods on the right, Arthur's position. There were more shots, but those shots had followed the order of shooting first up in the air until the targets were identified. Now it was too late, one had already crossed their line, and the other was attacking William who was on the ground fighting for breath, the ferals repulsive hands clutching at his neck, his gun on the ground, useless beside him. Not again! He thought to himself; he'd had weeks of training with Miss Simons and Dunn and knew what to do. Using the hunting knife strapped to his belt he jammed it up into the naked feral's neck, going for the jugular, twisting it, driving it deeper until he felt the feral's grip get loose. He was drenched in blood and pushed the dead body away from him, free and safe.

Matthew, witnessing part of the scene from his post had come to his rescue, "Are you hurt?"

"Not this time, well perhaps a slight bruise," William added, massaging his neck with one hand. Then his eyes opened wide, "Behind you!"

Matthew turned around instinctively; another feral was crossing the road, coming for them. He raised his gun and opened fire twice. The feral fell at his feet.

"Everyone alright?" shouted Louise, coming to the scene, as she reported on the radio, "Three down, two still running, one wounded, one more to come!"

"Alright!" was the answer. "One veered to the right," said Miles on the radio, who had heard Louise's count; "We've lost contact with the other two. What can you do?"

"I can't send the kids on a hunt at night. I'll take Walt and try to catch the remaining three, or at least as many as we can. If you can give me some indication of their whereabouts that would help."

"We're following one; we can try to locate the others, but I don't know how far we can go with the drones. We will do our best."

"Boys," Louise shouted, "to me."

Her hunting talents being put to the test, five minutes later, Louise, Walt, and Bob, who had volunteered to join them, were giving chase while the rest of the group returned to the school.

***

The next morning Miles was awakened by hushed young voices. He immediately recognized Sven and Brett, who had finished the night with him, in the same bed. They had moved to one of the empty rooms on the same floor for more space. There had been no talking, no foreplay, all three had fallen asleep exhausted, as soon as their heads hit the pillow, and it had been at least three in the morning when it was finally over. Now the man feigned sleep, wanting to hear what was said.

"You never watched porn?" Sven was questioning.

"No, why? I had much more interesting things to do, math, coding, music."

"Math! I hate it, how can you like it?"

"Always have, like music, they're very much alike when you look at it."

"Explains why I quit piano months, if not weeks after I started it at six or seven. My mom wanted me so much to play music, I remember, I hated it."

So my boy Sven is not the perfect child, thank god, thought Miles.

"You don't know what you're missing, like me with sex, never thought I would be hooked like that, it was totally out of my field of interest."

"You're not much younger than me; how can that be? I certainly can't say the same. It is a constant distraction and worry lately, before all that mess, that is."

"Worry? What were you concerned about?"

"At the time, I was afraid I liked … boys, men, rather than girls."

"It doesn't seem to matter much anymore if you're gay, and maybe I am too, I loved what Dunn did to me yesterday. All I want right now is to do it again. I hope he wakes up soon so that we have some time together. Hope that doesn't bother you."

"No, not really, I shared him with others already, Anthony, notably. You'll have to accept that too. He likes boys a lot."

"A lot of boys, you mean?"

"Well, you can say it both ways, I guess. What did Miles do with you yesterday?"

"You're jealous?" replied Brett with humor in his voice.

"I don't think so, just curious."

"Easy, first he played with my penis and then he kissed me, put his tongue in my mouth and all, it was weird. All the while, he was rubbing his penis against my butt; he seemed to like it very much. That's when I felt it, the orgasm I mean, you know?"

"I know that very well."

"Of course, how stupid of me. Well, it was incredible and it lasted for a long time, and it kept going and going! Then I heard him grunting a bit and there was that sperm all over my back and butt, it drenched my tee-shirt, can you believe it?"

"I can, for sure."

"Then we went for a shower and I asked for more. Miles went to his knees and took my penis in his mouth; can you believe that? That felt great while he played with my butt. I got two more orgasms then he rubbed himself against me again, he came and that was it, game over. He told me he would ask you if you were okay to take me in. I'm sure glad you did!"

"You're welcome. I'm sincere."

"Look, just talking about it got my penis hard."

There was a clear tent in the boy's shorts. Miles had said they should all keep their underwear on for that first night; he wanted to put Brett at ease, not knowing how he would react with such intimacy, at once. From what he had just heard, he was more of an innocent than he had thought possible in the new school environment.

"You call it a penis?" asked Sven obviously amused by the name.

"Yeah, what else?"

"No one I know calls it that."

"What do you call it then?"

"There's prick, cock, peter, dick, willy, woodpecker…"

"Woodpecker, that's a cartoon, funny."

"Funny indeed, Dunn likes to call it a stick, a boy's stick."

"What else do you do with him he hasn't shown me yet?"

"The thing he likes more than anything is to put his penis … up your butt. That needs some getting used to."

"But how does he do that?"

"You never heard of sodomy?"

"Like in the Bible?"

"Don't know about that, he puts it in your anus, poop hole. See what I mean?"

"But it's dirty there? How can you do that?"

"Well, since there's no vagina, you got to put it in somewhere, even some men and women do that, I heard."

"And you like it?"

Miles was particularly attentive to the answer.

"At first no, I did it only to please him, didn't dare say no. I must say it hurt a lot."

"If it hurt, why did you do it?"

"I wanted him to like me, to be with him; he's big though, didn't think it would hurt that much. Soon, I didn't care about the pain, I don't know if I got used to it or if I learned to open myself to his cock. Now it doesn't hurt at all most of the time and what I am sure of is that I love the feeling of being one with him, being filled by him, by his love. Hope I didn't scare you away."

"Scare, no. I'm not sure I'll let him do that to me, though."

"Let him try; he always said he would stop if I asked him to. When he saw he was hurting me he wanted to stop; it was me that asked for it. It's true; it's really special. I wanted him in me. He really likes it and most boys I know don't feel any pain. That's just me. I should not have told you."

"On the contrary, you warned me. I had no idea such things existed. I promise I'll let him try."

"And I promise to be very careful and use lots of lube!" exclaimed Miles, catching both boys by their necks and bringing them to him in a loving embrace.

"You were awake!" said Brett.

"You were listening!" added Sven with a frown.

"And I liked what I heard, lovely boy. Let me kiss you good morning."

He did, both boys. Then his hands slipped inside their boxer shorts to fondle their curved sticks, and it wasn't only Brett that had a boner.

"You shouldn't have listened to us, that was private," insisted Sven.

"I'm sorry, I won't do it again, but there's nothing either of you should regret what you said. It was rather charming and kind. What time is it?"

"Around eight," said Sven.

"Do we have time for … you know?" asked Brett.

"A fast one, then. Louise must be back by now, and I have a lot to do. Or perhaps Sven and you could manage it together this time."

"It would not be the same," replied Brett, eyes down.

"I see. Sven, can I send you to get some news while I take care of this young gentleman?"

"I'm as much in need as he is," Sven said, pulling down the front of his boxer shorts and showing a perfect erection, but I'll do it as a welcome gift to our new roomer." He jumped from the bed like the previous evening putting on shorts and sneakers. "I'll be back soon."

He was through the door in a minute. A really good kid thought Miles to himself.

"Now, let's take care of you, Brett. What is it going to be?"

"You won't put it up my butt?" The boy asked, suddenly less sure of his desires.

"No, of course not. Not enough time and we're out of lube. Anyway I won't do anything you don't want me to, ever. If you stay with us though, it will certainly be something I'll ask of you sooner or later."

"I said I would try it."

"I heard that; we will see later what can be done about it. Let's take those shorts off first."

The now naked boy was as lovely as could be, Miles took him delicately in his arms, his hands coursing all over his beautiful shapes; after all that talk he could not resist sending a hand to the child's rounded buttocks, one finger grazing his crack but keeping well away from his rosebud, that he would save for later.

"Mouth or hand," he asked, as he rubbed his lips against the boy's before pushing his tongue inside the opening, there was no resistance.

"Mouth," answered Brett in a muffled voice, his little dickie standing straight.

Miles was tempted to try a sixty-nine but there was again no time for that and he decided to concentrate on the boy's pleasure rather than his own until Sven's return. He moved down the child's delicate body and skin leaving a trail of saliva along his descent, filled his hands with the glorious and firm buns of the boy's ass to bring to him the relished hard morsel that he devoured with love.

***

Louise had slept until twelve, catching a few hours of rest after returning with Walt and Bob. She had not been satisfied since they had been able to kill only two of the three ferals.

The first one had been easy; they just had to follow the instructions given by Miles on the radio who himself gave the indications of the drone. It had taken them no more than fifteen minutes.

The second one had required her tracking talents. It was the one wounded by Walt. That and the loss of blood had slowed it. Forty minutes later, they had caught up with it and killed it. There had been no discussion on what to do with those ferals; none was necessary. They could not be tamed or questioned, and they were dangerous alive. Still, she had been the one to dispatch it, since they always looked very much human.

There was still one at large, with no way of knowing where to look. The drones had lost it and were reaching their limits. Knowing those woods and the general direction they had taken, she had made one last bet and at a gallop led the two boys to a clearing where most paths led. They had waited until the first light of day without success.

After waking up, she went for a shower and then for lunch. Miles was there, waiting for her.

"Interesting night, don't you think?" he remarked. They sat a little apart from the others and had many things to discuss. He stood up while she took her seat.

"Still the perfect gentleman, I see," she said as he sat again.

"You can say that."

"I was told that Lewis Silva came back on his own."

"He did, and he had an interesting story to tell us. You were quite successful yourself, five out of six, at night, in the woods, that's quite a feat."

"But one got away. We have no clear idea of what they were doing there; I can think of a few though, in fact mainly one: scouting for a larger group."

"Yes, I thought of that too and there's nothing we can do about it except prepare ourselves for the worst and hope for the best."

"At least we've done combat training."

"As I said, Silva has witnessed a large gathering of ferals, several hundred he said, at the mall where we lost him. It is quite a distance from here, but we can suppose there are now many such large groups around and that they may send scouts. The question is, for what purpose? We can only guess for now."

"They are still quite aggressive, but now that they are somewhat organized, they may select their targets and avoid us."

"Or, on the contrary, we are exactly what they are looking for; they did not hesitate to attack the mall which had some defenses."

"What would be the consequences if we were attacked?"

"As I said to Carl, with those numbers there would be many casualties, it would mean a major setback for us, one from which I don't know if we would recover."

"Is there anything we can do to avoid that?"

"Intelligence, know when they are coming, how many, and from where. Be prepared; maybe set a few traps for them. Attack them before they get here. Try to find more powerful weapons, maybe explosives. We need to organize patrols and use our tech kids' detection devices to survey the perimeter, starting with the area where they were hiding. We will need your advice and expertise on the most effective places to put them. But first I want you to lead an expedition to try to find where those six ferals came from. With your hunting skills, you're better equipped than me to do it and it would give us vital information. Bear in mind we might be mistaken in our interpretation of their behavior. That said, everything we do can only reinforce our security."

"I'll leave as soon as possible."

"Perhaps you should rest some more first; you were out most of the night."

I'll catch up when it's done; this is a priority. The sooner I retrace their tracks, the easier it will be."

"I must say that I can only agree. What would I do without you?"

"I'm the one that is grateful, first for still being alive, and second for being useful to the boys' survival and future."

"They certainly are worth it."

"What about Carl? It doesn't seem the best time for us to make a move. Do you think that menace could restrain him? Stop him from following his plans, maybe even change them?"

"I still have to discuss it with him; I am surprised to see you ask such a question, you have always been opposed to him and rather radical in your views. Like you, I am not sure he can step back; his rise to power has blinded him. I am more optimistic concerning Max; he should support us on that matter. Now I have some information from another source that could be of great help to expose Fisher, reveal him for what he is, and cause him to fall."

"Really? I want to hear that."

"You know Cole Anderson?"

"Yes, everybody knows him. I haven't seen him since his father died now that you mention it. What about him?"

"Many were told or thought he was dead, a victim of the flu, like his father. When in fact he could be very much alive and a victim of an accident or something more sinister, perhaps with Greg or Carl responsible and for that reason hidden away somewhere. Shirley, the nurse, seems heavily involved too."

"Who told you that?"

"Indirectly, Alex Masseria, I still have to talk to him face to face to verify it, I have been told he overheard a conversation between Cahill and Fisher. If it proves to be true, it would be a decisive ace up our sleeve to get rid of him and his influence."

"It could be decisive, indeed, where do we start?"

"We have to locate the boy without putting him or anyone else in danger. If Carl or Shirley learned that we were looking for him, I would really fear for him. I think now anything is possible from those two, and the most dangerous might be Shirley. Don't forget she was the one who killed Abrams before his time and who knows how many others. The fewer people know about it, the better. I'll pass that message to Alex and Brett who gave me the information."

"Where do you think they could be holding him?"

"The gymnasium is now more or less empty and seems an obvious place, but there are many others, it depends on how careful they feel they need to be. From what I heard, Shirley would be the one keeping him somewhere. Her apartment needs to be checked."

"Is that possible? I know Cole, he would fight back, make noise, shout until he lost his voice. Someone would have heard him."

"The Teacher's House is rather deserted now and it depends on what they've done to him. I prefer not to think of it, remember what Greg did to Anthony."

"What did he do to him? You never told me about that."

"I didn't? One night at Thorvald's place, he played with a plastic bag, asphyxiating the boy 'til the kid lost consciousness while he fucked him, did it a few times too. I wanted to kill him when Anthony first told me about it."

"I'm surprised you didn't, I would have done it gladly too." Louise was quite serious; her piercing and enraged eyes left no doubt about it.

"Not yet, for now, we need everybody. The time might come later."

"It's no surprise then that Anthony works for our side."

"Yes, he has very good reasons and I'll ask him to be particularly attentive concerning that Cole matter. I don't want to expose him though; I'll have to be careful with what I tell him. The more we know about them, the more unscrupulous and dangerous they appear to me."

"You'll soon end up thinking like me."

"Probably, but at the moment we need them as much as they need us. Our best bet is to disqualify Carl as leader of this community, and Shirley too if we reveal what she's been doing. Without them, the others should disband and leave us alone."

"Let's hope it ends that way and that we can ban them from the school."

***

Anthony had slept late and been woken up by Mikey who had slept next to him. He wanted to know everything about the night's events and cuddled up against him. Anthony saw no reason not to please him and started his tale while pulling off the boy's tee-shirt and shorts. He was himself naked. They were alone in Dunn's recently abandoned cubicle that Antony had occupied when he saw the man go with Brett and Sven to a bigger room. He could always join them later. There had been much excitement upon their return, but everyone was too tired to stay up any longer. Of course, Mikey had joined him in bed and they had both fallen asleep right away. Mikey was a very special kid, and clearly as randy as he was himself. Anthony had finally decided to take him as his younger bed-buddy after being rebuffed by his first choice, Matthew. The bed kept the smell of the man he admired and he had to say, kind of loved too, some of Sven also. It smelled of sex, which perfectly fit his mood.

The ten-year-old was the ideal partner, always hard and ready. The only initial problem had been to convince him to accept being fucked in the ass. He considered it unmanly and resisted until Anthony showed him the way. The little kid, to make it acceptable, took it upon himself to fuck as much as he was fucked, which didn't bother Anthony at all. It was in his character like trying to show some independence from his brother Chad or avoiding being pestered by the younger one, Louis, which was not an easy task.

Anthony took great pleasure in telling Mikey everything he could recall from his rather scary night adventure, adding a few invented episodes, and using the occasion for a free ride in the very willing boy's chute. He did not tell him of his fear, riding in the dark, facing unknown dangerous opponents, and not knowing when they would show up; none of that had been glamorous or adventurous for him. He had felt terrified behind his tree and not that much reassured by the weight of the weapon he was holding. The presence of Louise and his friends all around had helped, but they were out of sight and he was surrounded by the menacing sounds of the forest.

Spying for Dunn was also dangerous but felt different. It was his world; he was in control and knew what to expect from Carl, Greg, and the others. Dunn had helped too, giving him information, or sometimes documents to pass on. It was a kind of game, he was also taking his revenge, and that felt almost as good as sex.

In truth, for him, nothing felt as good as sex, and he was experiencing it right now. The boy under him was entranced by it too. Anthony was a skilled lover who liked to give as well as receive. He had spent a lot of time on that discipline recently.

"So you killed … one of the ferals?"

"Well… I shot at it, and it fell, but I wasn't alone.Several of us shot at it when it fell; I might have missed."

Mikey was a talker during sex, as long as his sweet mouth wasn't occupied with something else. Anthony had learned that during their previous sessions together.

"I would have liked … ah, ooh … to be there. Will you take me … gasp … next time?"

"I'm … oomph … not the one … oomph … who decides … oomph … that kind of thing."

"But … ooh … you're close to Dunn… you can … huh … ask him."

"I can … oomph … but you're … very … young … Ahhh, here I come."

"Ooh, I felt it, you shot something! … You will ask, won't you?

"Yeah, I will, and I sure did shoot! Don't raise your hopes too much though. I doubt he'll agree. Let me take care of you now."

Anthony slid down the younger boy's soft body and took his hard pricklet in his mouth while using two fingers to replace his dick in the boy's chute. Mikey's perfect and hard little tool was no more than three inches, you barely felt it when he was fucking you, but it was still fun and pleased the boy. The lovemaking was totally different with Dunn, but both had their merits and he liked each one just as much.

Sex, yes that was his thing, much more than guns and night expeditions. Fooling Greg, Carl, and their followers, that was his turf too. He was good at that. Once he was done with Mikey, he would see what they were up to, but hunger insisted he first head for the cafeteria.

"I'll be the one to fuck you, next time, ain't I?" Mikey said dreamily, taken over by wonderful sensations.

"You sure will, little love."

***

Miles had met with Anthony at the cafeteria and told him that they were looking for Cole Anderson's whereabouts. He was to listen to any conversation between Carl and Shirley or any of their affiliates but had to be very cautious about it. Then he went to Louise to ask whom she wanted to take with her to retrace the steps of last night's ferals.

"You know I normally prefer to go alone, but I'd gladly take Bob with me. That boy has real talent; he is a sharpshooter and also has a good eye for tracking, as I saw last night."

"Isn't he a bit young for such a task?"

"He is, but he probably is also the best we have at our disposal, at this time. Also, I must say I like his company; he is a quick-witted and sweet boy."

"Walt will probably want to go with him too. They are very close to each other now and he's also very reliable."

"I'm sure he will go for obvious reasons. That makes three, quite enough I would say for that undertaking."

"You're not taking Greg this time, or any other senior?"

"No, there are disadvantages in numbers for this kind of thing."

"I might add one more though, but I'm not quite sure it is that good of an idea."

"Who would it be?"

"Young Brett. He could take one of his drones. That way, you could assess any situation from a distance without exposing the group. I don't want to lose you, better to minimize the risks if it can be done." Miles hated what he had just said; he wanted to keep the boy safe for himself, but what other alternatives did he have? Stuart would not do and Louise was his most valuable ally at Saint Xavier, she was worth everything he could think of to keep her by his side. This without taking into account the strong affection and respect he had for her.

"I have no idea what he is worth in case of a fight," countered Louise to his relief but he could not leave it at that.

"I've seen how he dealt with the attack at the mall. He didn't panic and behaved quite well. He could be of great help for this mission. You have to promise me you'll bring him back to me in one piece."

"If you say so, I'll do my best. Does he know how to ride a horse?"

"I have no idea. Let me go fetch him and the others; we'll meet at the barn in thirty minutes."

"I'll be there."

Miles went to the Warriors' tables; Walt was there with Bob, Chad and Matthew by his side, Brett at a nearby table, and a sign from Miles was enough to have them gather around him. Brett's eager face fell down a bit when he said what had been planned for them.

"Boys, we need you again. Louise wants you to go with her to try and find out where those ferals were coming from last night and what else we might expect. I know you already had an exacting night. I hope you had a few hours of sleep; she wants to go as soon as possible."

"No problem on my part, I'm ready to go, but Bob? We might be gone for several days and that sounds like a dangerous trek," said Walt, concerned.

"I know, that's what I told her, but she said she wanted him, that he was the best she could get. I understand your reserves, though. It's up to both of you."

"But what about me? Why me?" interjected a worried Brett.

"That was my idea. As Walt said, it will not be a simple thing; you will be going straight into untold danger. Having your drone to scout ahead would be of great value. So what do you say, are you up to it?" Miles did not know if he wished for a yes or a no. He cared about those boys and did not want to lose any one of them.

"Do we really have a choice?" answered Walt.

"Yes, you have, I don't want to force you, we can find replacements if needed."

"But we are Louise's first choice, I trust her, I feel safe with her," said Bob. Then determined, "I'll go."

"Then I'll go too," added Walt, "I don't want to miss that."

"I'm the best for drones, I believe, to pilot but also to repair if needed, I'm in too," said Brett.

"Are you a good horse rider? That will be required too."

"I can manage; it was part of my PE program last year."

"It's settled then. Louise is expecting us at the barn; you should go and get everything you might need."

As the boys left, Matthew, who it seemed had overheard their conversation came to him.

"You're sending Bob away?"

"Yes, with Louise, he'll be safe, don't worry."

"I hope you're right."

"I am, it's important, and we don't have that many choices."

"Why not send Max, he's like you, he knows how to deal with danger."

"You're right again Matthew, I did think of it, but at this moment all he is thinking about is taking care of Mister Thorvald. He would have certainly been the right choice otherwise, but it's complicated."

"Bob and Walt have been out all night; they should rest before going."

Miles paused. It was true that the sooner they started, the better their chances were of finding the ferals before the trail went cold. He also knew that if they were overtired and ill-prepared, it could mean Louise and the boys' demise. Miles had a dilemma, in the military he wouldn't have hesitated to send out a party of well-trained soldiers, but these were kids, and there would be no backup for them. Should they rest before heading out? Were his affections for the boys clouding his judgment? Maybe, probably…

"Young man, this is true and I should have been the one thinking of it. I'll tell Louise to delay their departure until tomorrow morning; we will have more time to get them prepared and equipped. You certainly earned one favor. What will it be?

"Sleep with you tonight? Take Brett's place?" said the boy with a mischievous smile.

"Granted, young man."

What game are you playing? How did you know Brett was sleeping with me? Are you really that innocent? thought Miles.

***

Greg was looking at the farm through binoculars. There had been no movement so far. He was accompanied by Tools, Omar Seku, Sam Lewis, Pablo Munez, and Harvey Van Huys, one of Shirley's boys. Lewis Silva had not been in a good enough shape to come with them. This time he was determined to go all the way, and not to wimp out like last time with that little blond kid. Two plastic bags sat safely in his pocket and was confident that most of his companions, except perhaps for Sam, had the same lousy streak in them, they liked to have their ways at the expense of whoever could provide them what they wanted. What he didn't know was if there were limits to what they would do. In the next hour or so, he would find out. The other unknown was Tools, would he see the enthusiastic teacher mutate into a merciless rapist.

"Looks pretty quiet; haven't seen anyone."

"What do we do now? Do we sneak up on them or do we simply knock on their door?" asked an eager Harvey.

"Let's knock on the door, they have no real reason to fear us," said Tools, whose words had a teacher and adult authority."

"Yes, let's do that. I want to see their faces when they understand what our real intent is," enthused Harvey.

"The woman is mine; I'm first. I'm not interested in the boys as you well know," declared Omar.

"How old is she?" wondered Sam.

"I would say over thirty, rather good looking, she's all yours, I'll have the older boy to myself," said Tools.

"Boy, girl, who cares as long as we can do whatever we want with them," commented Harvey.

"Well, the plan is to share the goods, but first we have to secure them," said Greg.

The guns were put away or concealed and they quietly rode to the farm not trying to hide their approach.

A woman appeared on the porch, followed by two boys; she was holding a gun but did not aim it at them.

"No need of a gun ma'am, we are just passing through, we have no bad intentions; on the contrary," announced Tools.

"Who are you? What do you want?"

"Perhaps some water or lemonade. The day is hot and we've been riding for some time now. I'm Raymond Tools, a literature teacher at Saint Xavier, or I should say, I was. These were some of my pupils."

The woman relaxed somewhat at those words.

"What brings you here? We have nothing for you; we barely manage."

"We're patrolling the area, looking for what's left of the population, such as you, and for ferals. There have been large groups of them spotted in the area. You're not safe here alone with your boys." Greg had joined the conversation showing his perfect smile and his first of the class face that pleased so many, "Could we come in and have a glass of water."

The woman melted, gun forgotten.

"Of course, I'm sorry, but I'm responsible for my boys' safety, it's not easy these days."

"I agree, ma'am. I quite understand your caution," said Tools as he got off his horse soon imitated by the others.

"Come in; perhaps you have some information to give me. We haven't seen a soul in weeks now."

"We sure will," said Harvey with a cheeky smile.

They settled in the living room.

"I'm Lena Alcomb and this is Tommy, my youngest, and Gary, my oldest. I'll go fetch you some lemonade, that's the least I can do."

"Thanks ma'am," said Sam.

Harvey had some difficulty not bursting into laughter with Pablo a close second.

"What's so funny," asked the young Gary, not as trusting as his mother and looking at the gun she had left by the door.

"How old are you, Gary?" asked Tools.

"Thirteen in a few days," he answered with some pride.

"Almost a teenager, then, come over here, let me have a good look at you."

Gary, wanting to show his assertiveness moved forward, his younger brother, about ten, surrounded by strangers, staying close behind. He was a nice lad with brown hair, a well-tanned pleasant face, and wearing a tee-shirt and tight-fitting jeans. As soon as he was within Tools reach, he caught him by the wrist and pulled him to him.

"What?" squeaked the surprised boy.

"Grab the other one," Tools told Greg, "Sam, the gun." He put one hand on the boy's mouth, the other feeling his crotch, "Sweetie, you'll be mine shortly. I have a lot planned for you."

Gary did not fight back, he knew it was too late, and there was nothing he could do, so he chose to lay low and hoped it would be over soon, whatever it was they wanted.

When she returned from the kitchen, Lena knew her worst fears had become a reality. From the moment she saw them, she'd felt suspicious. It was a feeling she'd fought off, telling herself it was her imagination, that there was no reason for them to cause harm; they had nothing worth taking. How wrong she was!

"Take everything you want, but please don't hurt my boys," she pleaded, her hands holding the tray shaking.

"Put that down, Lena, or we'll have broken glass all over, someone might get cut if you're not careful."

"Yes, of course."

She set the tray on a table and as soon as she was done, she heard, "Take off your clothes, now!"

It was Omar, who had already taken his cock out of his fly.

Greg, always smiling and gracious, had taken out one of his two quite ordinary plastic bags and put it on the top of Tommy's head.

"You should hurry, I don't know how long he can hold his breath," he pulled the bag down over the boy's face, cutting off his air.

"You can't … My baby…"

Lena did not add a word and started unbuttoning her blouse.

"Why have her hurry she could have given us a show first," said Pablo.

"I don't think the boy will last more than two or three minutes. Be careful, Greg." Tools had not expected something like that.

"I know. It's up to the lady."

She was already down to her panties that were soon also gone.

Greg pulled up the bag and kissed the boy's mouth, barely letting him catch his breath.

"And now let's fuck!" exclaimed Omar, pushing Lena over the table and playing with her tits.

She was mumbling words, terrified and desperate.

"Boys, I'll let you have your fun while I take care of young Gary."

"Hey, we want a piece of his ass too," said Pablo, "you can't keep him all for yourself."

"I'll bring him back after I'm done with him, don't worry."

Greg, who was pulling down Tommy's shorts, nodded his agreement.

"We will start with the lady and that one. Guys, you've been telling me for weeks that you wanted real pussy. Here it is. Look, Omar already found his way in."

The black boy had not wasted a minute, britches and underwear down to his ankles and he was pounding away energetically.

"I'll try her mouth," said Pablo, "while waiting for the bitch's cunt."

Using dirty words certainly helped the boys objectify their victims. It was not rape if the boy or girl was a worthless thing, a simple means to pleasure.

"Sam, do you want that virgin's ass? That's my gift to you for coming with us. I know you don't approve of what we're doing here." He slapped the kid's naked buttocks, "This one should make for a great fuck."

"Don't you want it yourself? I mainly came for the woman. The kid's really young," replied Sam, embarrassed, but not wanting to stand apart from the others.

"What do you care? It's not a kid; it's the bitch's brat, come on, you have to get used to it. They're here to serve us and nothing more."

"Can I have him? I can't wait anymore!" interrupted Harvey, also pants down.

"My pleasure, if Sam wants to pass his turn."

"Did you bring some lube?"

"Lube, what for? Use your spit if you want to, or fuck him dry, open him up for us, I'll hold him for you."

"Thanks."

Harvey got in position, pulled apart the child's cheeks, spat on his rosebud and pushed in without any hesitation. Greg was holding Tommy firmly, loving the feel of his young body wracked by pain.

"Come on Harvey show him you're the master, ride 'm hard. Show us what you can do, what you're made of."

The teen started a remorseless rabbit fuck, oblivious of the child's pain and cries. Greg thought he'd found a kindred spirit. He'd heard that he'd been Shirley's most zealous follower, administrating the poison himself and staying to see its effect. Greg was eager to show him how to play with the plastic bag; he was sure it would pique his interest.

Tools heard the cries coming from the living room and the excited voices of the boys. He had found the mother's bedroom and ordered Gary to undress. After two hard slaps, the boy started to comply, still with some reluctance.

"Come on, hurry up, if you do what I say, I'll make sure the three of you survive this day. Do you mind if I call you Chandler, I like that name."

The boy stayed silent. He slapped him again, twice on his already reddened cheeks. His nose started to bleed. "I asked you a question! Answer me!"

"Yes sir, I … I … I don't mind."

"Stop stuttering; I hate that. Off with your underwear now. I'm sure you have a good idea of what I want from you, Chandler. Don't you?"

He just had to raise his hand to get an answer.

"Yes … Yes sir … Sorry, sir."

"Good, now let's have a good look at you."

Tools appreciated the difference in skin tones between the parts exposed to the sun and the untainted white of the nether regions. His hands roamed all over the alluringly soft skin, kneading the buttocks and thighs, playing with the balls and pricklet, sending a finger down the crack and testing the opening there. He was enraptured by the boy's terror and shame, savoring every second of it.

"I like you, Chandler; you have everything I can desire in a boy. Will you, this time, offer it all to me?"

"Have … I got … a choice?"

"You're right; you don't have a choice this time, Chandler," he answered, as he pushed two fingers into the child's mouth. "Wet them well; I want to see how tight your backside is."

He soon pulled them out, pushing the boy onto the bed, face down, spreading his legs apart for better access and abruptly entered one finger and then the other into the puckered virgin hole. The boy gasped in shock, stifling a scream of pain as Tools finger-fucked him for a minute or two before pulling them out and wiping them on the sheet.

"Now let's get comfortable, Chandler, this first time has to be memorable."

He slowly undressed, placed a pillow under the boy's midsection and then covered the child with his much bigger and stronger body.

"I don't want to hurt you more than necessary," he said in the boy's ear before turning his head around to kiss him gently, "You're my dream boy, it would have been so much better if all that had been of your own free will."

His erection had found its way into the boy's crack and was now putting pressure on the opening there.

"It … hurts," mumbled Gary, between the man's kisses, still hoping for his pity.

"I know; that's the whole point. You must be punished; it's all your fault."

As he said those words, he drove his shaft forward, impaling the boy with his whole eight inches; the boy's cries of anguish mirrored by his own moans of pleasure, a grotesque duet that continued until he reached a crescendo.

***

Sasha was driving without really knowing where to go. After their escape, they had spent the night in the car, sleeping fitfully in each other's arms. Vicky was still not talking, but at least she'd stopped crying.

He considered taking her back to the community where he found her, but had no idea where it was. They'd both been locked in the trunk during the journey to the house and had no idea where they were. Even if he found the place, he wasn't too sure he wanted to face the wrath of its inhabitants or the consequences of his stupidity. He was the one that had led Vicky into that trap and he blamed himself for her fate.

Vicky was still silent, staring fixedly ahead. Avoiding the freeway and taking smaller roads, he headed in the direction of Savannah hoping to find help on the way. Debris and obstacles often littered the road, and he was also on the lookout for any unspecified danger, apart from the ferals, of course. He'd seen a few groups of ten to twenty individuals already and had sped up to avoid them.

On entering the town of Okatie, he made a turn and he was immediately faced with a street barricade. Pushing hard on the brakes, Vicky was thrown forward and she bumped her head on the windshield.

"Vicky, are you okay?" he exclaimed, feeling even guiltier than before if that was possible.

She made a sign with her hand while he saw a lump form on her brow. But other matters required his attention; the car was now surrounded by armed people, mostly older teens, and also a few men.

"Get out of the car slowly, hands up and well in sight," shouted one of them.

"We need help," Sasha shouted back, opening the car door on his side. "She's been hurt. Don't shoot! Please!"

"Kid, we need to see your hands, help her out if she can't do it herself."

Sasha went around the car, hands up, opened the passenger door, and helped Vicky out of the car.

The grizzled man, who had spoken, checked the car and looking at them up close did not doubt they needed assistance.

"Ephraim, help the boy, we'll take them to the Doc."

Sasha was emotionally and physically exhausted and he gladly let go of the girl while someone came to hold him too.

***

Max knew the end was a question of hours now, Ivor was wracked by fever, a cough, and vomiting. The drugs were ineffective. Milo had been sent away for his own safety, but he kept the two houseboys mostly because he had said it would be so. He was losing the man he loved, should he do something and shorten his sufferings? He hated that idea; he wanted to keep him close until the very end.

There was a knock on the door.

"Boys, watch Ivor for me and call if necessary," he said.

The two boys who were terrified at the idea of staying alone with Thorvald were sure to call at the first sign that something was amiss.

Max opened the door; it was Dunn and Louise.

"Can we enter and talk a minute?" said Miles.

"Yes, but only a minute, Ivor is not well."

"We understand that but we wanted to tell you about the latest developments after last night's events and what we decided to do about it."

It had not been difficult for Miles to convince Louise to wait until the next morning to start tracking the ferals. The boys needed to rest after a night out and she probably did too, if they wanted to avoid taking unnecessary risks. That way, they would leave in the best possible conditions.

Matthew's idea of involving Max had also been retained, even if it was improbable that he would participate. It was an opportunity to establish trust, a relationship of sorts, a chance to have him as a partner rather than a competitor, or at least to gain his neutrality.

"I'm listening," said Max with weariness and drawn features. The apartment smelled of sickness and death.

"Louise is taking a few kids with her to try to see where those ferals were coming from."

"I can't go at the moment. Also, for that, I suppose I would need to ride a horse–I never learned."

"We understand. Indeed that is a requirement. She will be away for two or three days. As soon as possible, I would like you to help me with security measures and with the boys training. They need leadership and supervision, particularly with the current menace looming around."

"I'll do what I can, as soon as I can," was Max's short answer. "There's nothing I can do now."

It was time to go.

"We understand, Max, we're counting on you. Sorry for Mister Thorvald. We will keep in touch."

Miles had thought of asking again that the boys still in there leave with them, but it certainly would not have been wise. He felt he had perhaps made a little progress in winning over Max to their side.

***

Brett was feeling a mixture of excitement and fear at the prospect of joining a select group to go on an important mission with Miss Simons–Louise as he had been asked to call her. Despite the boost to his ego, he was very conscious of the dangers having witnessed firsthand what could happen at the mall. Any mistake could be fatal. It was a great responsibility–he preferred dealing with computers and code. On top of all the stress and consequences of the Shanxi flu crisis that he had faced like everybody else, the last few days had shaken him up on many levels. He had seen death close up for the first time, been through life-threatening situations and had discovered the joys of sex. It was a lot to take in, and he did not know if he was ready for what was being asked of him now, but did he have a choice?

Dunn had asked him to have the drone and computer ready for the next morning together with anything else he would need, then take the afternoon off and try to rest. The first part had been easy for Brett; the second was much more difficult with all those ideas and images going through his mind. He finally decided to join Stuart and the others at the shop and do what he liked most in life so far, create code, lose himself in the resolution of problems. Sex was great, but he wasn't sure it could compete with that yet, and there was that sodomy thing which worried him. It appeared quite alien to him, even if he had promised to give it a try.

For the next two hours, he was absorbed in lines of code, helping to fix a few issues with Stuart, and forgetting all his worries. Then he felt the tiredness of an almost sleepless night and went to take a nap, waking up just before dinner.

***

Miles met discreetly with Anthony just before going to the cafeteria; unfortunately, the boy had not heard anything even remotely linked to Cole Anderson. On the other hand, it appeared that Greg had taken Tools and a few other boys out of the school and had had quite a lot of fun. Anthony did not like the way he talked about it, true; he did not like the prefect at all. He still thought what they had done outside had a sinister vibe and would not have pleased Miles. On a more pleasant note, he had collected two KY tubes and he gave one to the man while keeping the other for himself. As Miles had thought, Carl had a large stock of the stuff at his disposal that he generously distributed around him as part as his companion policy.

"You'll be able to have a good time tonight," added Anthony with a conniving smile.

"Why don't you join us?" proposed Miles.

"I'm not sure Mikey is ready for that yet, he's got some misplaced pride and doesn't want anyone to know he lets me fuck him. What about your new boy, Brett?"

"Well, you might be right on that, I think it's too early for Brett too, he's still in the discovery stage, learning what can be good for him, what he likes or doesn't like."

"You've been a good teacher for Sven; you'll do fine with him too."

Anthony was talking as someone much more savvy in those matters than the adult Miles, which was probably quite true. It still felt odd to the man.

"And what about Matthew? I thought it was him you had in mind as a companion," asked Miles, trying not to give too much importance to his question.

"He wasn't interested. He said he was saving himself for someone else."

"Saving himself, what do you mean?"

Miles was very curious to know what his young protégé had in mind and now that he thought of it, he recalled what he had promised the boy: that he would sleep with him that same night.

"He told me not to tell, but I think it's easy to find out who it could be."

"I don't believe you. He is thinking of me? It can't be; he spent a night with me already, a few days ago; there was no hint of that. Perhaps it was to keep you at bay. It couldn't be."

"Still, that's what he told me and in a way that made me jealous. I think he truly loves you."

"Yes, but not that way. I told his father I would watch over him. It can't be that way."

"Why do you say that? Do you think that what you're doing with Sven, soon Brett, a few others, and me is bad or harmful? That we don't know what we want or what we're doing?"

Miles stayed silent, what Anthony had just said was quite relevant, if it was right for them, why should it be different for Matthew?

"I'm his surrogate father; he's been entrusted to me. I can't do that."

"Bullshit! If he wants it and I know you want it too, I see no reason not to do it."

"You may be right; it's complicated." Miles was troubled; he didn't know what to say to the barely thirteen-year-old in front of him, a boy not that much older than Matthew himself. He needed time and was already wondering how to come to grips with his protégé's visit that coming night. Security matters suddenly seemed far simpler than affairs of the heart.

They separated, each one reaching the dining hall on his own.

Nothing much happened during dinner, as always Miles was surrounded by his 'warriors.' It gave him time to reflect on what Anthony had told him and he decided to give himself some time before adopting any code of conduct with Matthew. He had agreed to the boy sleeping with him but had not said he would be alone. The night could be pleasant with the three boys that would share it with him, Matthew, Sven, and Brett. It would be a good way to avoid any incident. His libido was much more in control now but spending a night alone with Matthew after what he had just learned was probably not a good thing. His desire for the boy was quite real and he considered that his position of surrogate father was not stable enough. Indeed, he had met the boy for the first time only weeks before. Having vowed to look after him, he felt a duty of care towards him. Did that entail depriving them both of a consensual sexual relationship? He did not know. As the situation and context were evolving, it was logical that Matthew would sooner or later, eventually, submit to such a relationship. Was it detrimental that Miles was the one to benefit from it? He had no answer to those questions.

Brett arrived late and as lovely as ever, his long legs and fleshy thighs naked and desirable. He had messy hair and it was obvious he had been sleeping just before. He found a seat as close as possible to Miles, who was already flanked by Sven and Matthew on each side. Miles could feel the KY tube in his pocket and could not keep from regretting that there would be no use for it that night. He would have to wait for the boy's return to initiate him and satisfy that less acute but still ever-present craving for new boys. Would there be an end to it? He did not think so; it was inseparable from what he was at his core; it was his nature. He loved those boys and would keep on loving them, as many of them as he could, it would be a carnal love and last for as long as it was possible.

Now his love had taken root and been enriched these last few weeks. He had discovered that he loved their company, the way their skin felt under his fingers, their delicate shapes, their clear voices and so particular intonations, their naiveté and sometimes abruptness. He loved their laughs and tears, their optimism and energy, their bums, their thighs, their legs, flat bellies and chests, their sticks and balls, their necks and hair, their freckles, pert noses and luminous eyes. For him, they were the most beautiful creatures on earth, they had always been. The sexual attraction was, of course, an integral part of his infatuation for them. Did it make it less authentic, less sincere, less virtuous?

His love had been a curse, a source of pain and shame, a sexual attraction with creatures he barely knew and kept at bay for fear of succumbing to his forbidden desires, a fear of having to face the consequences.

Matthew had not been pleased when he had learned that he would not share Miles' bed alone, it did not last though, and after a small grimace of disappointment, he was his usual self and gladly joined the other two boys, following Miles to their new and much larger sleeping quarters.

There was a second disappointed boy that evening. Despite some anguish related to his next day's adventure, Brett had hoped for more sexual explorations. But like most boys his age he was used to accepting his elders' decisions and knew he could not always obtain what he wanted.

Sven was taking the role of the older brother who had done it all and looked upon the other two with benevolence, knowing that his level of intimacy with Miles was far superior and showing it at every occasion. He did not seem to feel his status threatened and was perfectly at ease with them.

Soon all three were taking turns in front of Miles laptop playing one game after the other. Each boy was abandoning the other two from time to time to show and get a sign of affection from Miles, from a cuddle or caress to a kiss.

The door had been left open and there was a parade of boys joining them from time to time, many coming from the showers and ready for bed in skimpy clothes, some couples and trios too. A few were drawn by the laptop sounds, a treat for those who did not have access to electricity. Many were regulars like Johnny, Logan, and his dog. Miles appreciated those visits for the natural mix of sensuality and trust that was shown.

Reluctantly he had to say after an hour of play, "Boys, we should get some sleep. Brett is leaving early tomorrow and needs to rest."

"When will we be able to use that special game room at Eagle House?" wondered Matthew, "Will you take us there? You said you would."

"I'll try but never go there by yourself, even if you're invited. Eagle House is not safe for you."

"Why's that?" wondered Brett.

"It's the headmaster and Greg Sutton's territory. Very bad things can happen with them. I don't want to see any of you go there without me."

"I'll still hope you'll take us there," insisted Matthew.

"I'll do that but even better I'll take your phones, laptops, iPads, whatever, and charge their batteries. What do you think?"

"But what about the others here? They might be jealous," stated Matthew, always the thoughtful boy.

"They sure would be, I think," corroborated Brett, "I could charge quite a few electronic devices at the shop. No one could say anything, power comes from our solar panels, and it would be costless for everyone."

"Brilliant, Brett! You'll make quite a few happy boys in the next few days and it could help us in more than one way. As you know, we are in a sort of competition for influence with Eagle House and Carl Fisher, if it could keep some of the boys in our camp that would be very effective."

"You'll have to see to it with Stuart since I'll be gone," he said, a bit sad.

"You'll be back sooner than you might think, don't worry too much, Louise will keep you safe and you'll be of great help to her with your drone. It seems you're becoming someone of importance among us and for me. I'm really getting fond of you. I'm so lucky to have all of you boys. You are all so different while so dear to me."

He embraced all three of them, feeling full of joy and contentment. He kissed each one, letting his hands wander on a neck, a back, a buttock giving them an affectionate or more appreciative squeeze.

All the while and during all the time they had been in this room, he had observed Matthew closely, looking for signs that would confirm Anthony's words. There had been nothing of the sort so far. He was his usual self, leaning gently on him at every occasion, seeking contact and caresses but in the same innocent way as during their previous time together. He had looked for a suspicious stiffy but had seen none so far.

"Go brush your teeth and then everybody gets in bed."

"We won't all fit in one," observed Sven.

"You're right, Brett needs his sleep and I promised Matthew he could spend the night with me. You'll share Brett's bed Sven and Matthew will share mine. I promise to catch up with the two of you as soon as possible." The nature of what they were missing was not lost to them and he was quite sure not to Matthew either.

Indeed, things were likely to get complicated for Miles with three boys, four if you counted Anthony! And he did not doubt more on the way. Still, he was certainly not going to complain.

***

Chandler had no choice but to follow Tools to his apartment again. He had no one to turn to. Certainly not the headmaster, nor any of the prefects who would be only too happy to take advantage and do to him what he had refused Raymond. He had admired the man, cherished all the hours he had spent, studying and rehearsing under his guidance. The man had been passionate, considerate, eloquent, full of knowledge, and brilliant. The best teacher, you could hope for. And then over a few days, he had changed drastically, becoming distant with unpredictable moods. Chandler had been worried for him; he still was despite what had happened since, he could not forget his feelings of attachment to the man Raymond had been, that he could perhaps become again.

He could not forget his fear of being raped the other night though, had it been make-believe? He wanted to think so but was doubtful. It hadn't been pleasant: Raymond had rubbed his hard penis on his face and lips. Chandler had turned his head just at the right time to avoid being drenched with his sperm, hoping it was the end of it. But it had not been. The man had scooped some of the substance with a finger and forcefully put it in his mouth telling him that he had to get used to it, to swallow it and that with this act he had marked him as his property–that he was his boy and no one else's.

After that, he had seemed satisfied and had let Chandler settle in his arms, spooning him and rubbing his still half-erect member on his butt. The boy had stayed that way with the aftertaste of the man's sperm on his tongue until he finally fell asleep.

What other humiliation would that night bring?

Tools was looking at the boy walking just ahead of him; he had the gait of a convict going to the gallows, the man smiled, it was way out of proportion, he had no such evil intent. In fact, he did not know yet what he would do with him. He had enjoyed immensely his 'excursion' at the farm. Raping those boys had let him release the anger that had accumulated these last weeks and had restored some control. He could give Chandler a few days to adapt to the man's desires, accept his fate, which was much better than what many others could hope. He would do it like Carl, keep this boy safe from his new and demanding base instincts while he practiced them on other less valuable lads.

That day, he had also discovered what was acceptable to him and what his limits were. He had been merciless with Gary but had not done any permanent damage to his body. The psychological aspect of things was another matter that did not concern him. It had been somewhat different in the living room. As he was bringing back the boy to share him and perhaps play with the younger one, he had arrived just in time to prevent the latter's probable death.

It was not Greg that held the bag but Harvey, the prefect was there, however, watching intently the distorted face behind the plastic while he pounded the kid's ass mechanically, too fascinated to give that action more than perfunctory attention.

"How does it feel?" Harvey was asking excited, and being indifferent to the boy's desperate need for air, "Four minutes," he added, looking at his watch, "The longest he's been under so far. I like how his ass squeezes your cock toward the end!"

The mother was crying, held by Omar, whose prick was still hard and glistening each time it left her cunt. He also held a bag in his hand and Tools deducted quickly that the mother had also been subjected to that cruel and dangerous game.

"Shall we go to five minutes," Harvey was asking as the boy was convulsing.

"We could go to six; everyone already had a go at his ass."

It was clear to Tools that only the boy's death would put an end to his suffering, a nasty death. Greg was bad, but he was at his worst when he had an audience, just like at this moment. He had to make a move

"NO! I did not have that pleasure. Take the bag off! I brought you another toy to play with. You are done with that one."

Since Harvey did not obey fast enough, he sent Gary into the arms of Sam who seemed quite upset himself and certainly welcomed his interruption, and then stepped forward to pull the bag off himself.

Mistreating, hurting, raping was one thing, but killing was another, he had never understood the need or the pleasure that could be gained from it. Greg threw him a dark look but Raymond did not waver or excuse himself.

"Why waste something that can bring you pleasure and satisfaction," he said, pulling the boy to him, checking for a pulse, slapping his face to revive him.

That one already forgotten, Harvey was all over the older brother, still held by Sam, calling to Greg, asking him if he wanted the boy's mouth or ass first.

"Come on, Greg; we can try it with that one too."

"No, I don't want to play anymore. I'll have a go at the mother and then we'll leave this place," Greg answered, dejectedly, when Tools had expected him to protest, oppose him, at least show his dissent. None of that happened.

They were back on their horses fifteen minutes later leaving the woman and her two sons wrecked but alive.

"Are we going to come back for seconds?" asked Omar, "That cunt was really good."

"Maybe, but I'm sure there are still many others like those all around. I always prefer novelty," answered Greg, who didn't know if he was relieved to have been deprived of the boy's death or if he should be furious at still not knowing what it felt like to kill in cold blood, just for the fun of it.

Tools had expected some recriminations from Greg on the way back, but they did not come, he had said nothing to Carl either upon their return. Death had not been on their roster anyway but it was clear that Greg was thinking of it–had a fascination for it–Raymond had noticed it multiple times at several of their meetings. He had not opposed it since having someone ready to pull the trigger could certainly be an advantage in this new world. Still, the useless killing of a boy was one step he was not prepared to cross, certainly not in his presence. Greg could do whatever he wanted on his own though, that was none of his business even if he disapproved. Raymond did not recognize himself in those thoughts, he had changed, and there would be no going back.

Now, what about Chandler? What could he hope to achieve with that one? He had made a mistake the night before, gone too far but avoided the worst, could he hope to reverse the situation or was it too late and the boy was definitely lost for him? As they were entering the apartment, he held the boy close to him, caressing his cheek, his lips.

"If you knew how much I love you Chand, how much I want you, you would understand, forgive me for what I did yesterday and the days before. I'm at fault. I know it. I should never have forced you that way. I've not been myself these last weeks, like everybody else, the fear of the flu, discovering feelings that had been buried so deeply that I was not even aware they existed. It's been hard on me like it has been on you. I am so sorry for my behavior. I am sincere, I regret what I did more than you can imagine. Please forgive me and let's start anew. What do you say?"

The child who had been expecting the worst was caught off guard and fell headfirst into the trap. He was like most of the boys at Saint Xavier, desperately looking for someone who would give him security and affection. Tools had been a natural choice for him, but right away he had realized something was off. What Raymond had asked of him was only sex and submission, certainly not what he needed or wished for.

This sudden change of discourse, in that context, was too good not to embrace. The man felt it physically as he was taking Chandler in his arms; the child was abandoning himself to the man, all the tension, the stress, leaving him; his muscles relaxing. He was sure he would possess him shortly, he should have done it that way from the start, but he had been destabilized, wanting satisfaction immediately, blinded by his anger and his new, untested desires.

He took him to the bedroom, laid him down on the bed and undressed him with care, taking his time, caressing and kissing him, cuddling him like a small child, talking to him, repeating over and over how much he loved him, how wrong he had been, how wonderful the boy was. His gestures were gentle without any real sexual innuendos, he was very careful of that and amazed at how easy it was, like a funny game, a play of which he was the actor. Now that most of his anger had been washed away he could deceive the boy effortlessly, imitate his old self, play at Jekyll and Hyde, it was quite pleasant.

It worked wonders on the child, who soon, without the slightest protest was naked except for his underwear and so pleasantly surprised by the change in Tools' attitude that he was ready to give willingly some of what had been refused before.

"Shall we sleep now?" asked Raymond innocently.

"I don't know," answered the boy, "perhaps you would like me to do something for you?"

"You know what I want, but today we will do things differently. It is me who will do something for you. Relax and enjoy!"

Having received the boy's agreement implicitly, Raymond kissed the boy's lips for the first time that night. He did not try to enter the boy's mouth, not yet, his lips following his chin descended to the delicate skin of his throat and then went slowly to his right nipple where his tongue and teeth came into action while his right hand caressed the boy's flat belly in circles. Chandler was breathing hard and one glance to his crotch showed the man that he was successful, the lump there was growing: the erection that he had tried to elicit without success the previous day was now clearly building. Now his hand was lying on top of it, rubbing it gently.

He turned his head towards Chandler and asked, "Can I?"

"Yes," was the boy's answer in a whisper.

He pulled down the front of the boy's underwear and delicately seized the prized organ rubbing the glans with his thumb and forefinger. The child tensed a bit and then relaxed again, letting those new sensations assault him freely.

"Do you like it?" asked Tools.

"Yes."

"Can I use my mouth on it?"

The boy hesitated, and then breathed a, "Yes."

"Good, you'll see what you've missed."

Raymond pushed down the boy's underwear, letting his hand get a good feel of the child's cock and balls. He then gulped the erect pricklet avidly and set to work on this new and very agreeable endeavor while letting his hand roam and explore the firm and soft thighs, daring to send a finger or two along the perineum to the puckered anus while avoiding any direct contact.

Chandler had closed his eyes concentrating on those pleasurable sensations, ignoring everything else.

It did not last more than a few minutes before Raymond felt the pricklet contract and leave a few droplets of fluid on his tongue.

His mouth replaced by his hand, left the spent organ to return to the smiling lips of the fulfilled child.

"How was it?" he asked between pecks on them.

"Good."

"You're a boy of few words tonight." Raymond had brought his erection in contact with the boy's thigh, apparently absentmindedly pressing, rubbing his hard tool against it.

"Yes, I'm sorry."

"It's alright, I don't mind, this is your night, I want it to be the best possible for you."

"But what about that?" Chandler inquired pointing at the man's leaking cock.

"What about it, do you think it needs to be taken care of?" The game was still on.

"I think so."

"How can we do that?"

"I can do it."

"Really? I would love that. With your mouth, like I did?" said Tools, doubtful but also hopeful.

"I don't know."

The boy was cornered, he had put himself in the trap, and there was no real way out. Tools did not want a setback and offered him an easy way out.

"You can use your hand, as a beginning."

The boy smiled, that was quite acceptable to him, and Tools knew it.

"Yes, I can do that."

"And I hope soon much more, I don't want to rush you again. Let's get settled comfortably, I want to be able to enjoy all your assets while you perform, if I may."

Chandler nodded his head and let the man place him half on top so that he had access to the engorged shaft while Tools himself was within reach of the child's lips and had one hand cupping the boy's offered buns while the other could roam around over his charming and plentiful treasures.

There was no delay and the boy started to work his hand up and down the member tentatively at first but soon without reserve.

We're getting there, thought Tools, who observed that the boy's pricklet was at half-mast. His cupping hand started kneading the warm flesh of the firm rump and this time he sent his index to rub and titillate the child's hidden hole. There was no reaction, he followed this first initiative with a more intimate kiss, having the boy open his sweet mouth, letting his tongue operate a small and brief incursion, and sharing some of their fluids as his free hand came to excite the boy's cocklet with great success. Tools soon came and spent his sperm on the child's belly. He stopped on purpose any more stimulation.

They stayed silent for some time and the man feigned sleep, curious to see the still erect boy's reaction.

"Are you asleep? Don't you want to … do it again?"

Tools opened one eye while hiding a smile.

"Again?"

"Yes, please," repeated Chandler, pointing at his needy pricklet.

"Well, Chand, how can I refuse you? What do you propose?"

"Can you do it with your … mouth … you know, it felt great."

"Could you do it too?"

"I can try," answered Chandler. Did he have any alternative but to agree?

Tools did not wait for a change of mind from the boy putting him on top again head to tails. His view was splendid from the child's firm ass with it's inviting puckered anus and his well-shaped thighs to his fetching hard pricklet and ballsack, all accessible to explore and enjoy.

Kissing the boy's adorable heart-shaped buns he was waiting with amusement for the first feeling of the child's lips or tongue on his glans. Their touch was again at first tentative, with some time in between but Chandler got bolder and shortly his whole mouth had sucked it up.

"You're doing good Chand, watch your teeth though." He encouraged the boy while playing with his balls and gently probing his still virgin orifice. It was a lovely one, clean, of course, surrounded by a rosy corona; it was devoid of any defect, no crevasses or ugly wrinkles, with unblemished skin and lining. He was frustrated that it would not be penetrated this same night. He could wait a day or two. He just had to keep at bay his anger and stay in control. Fortunately, he had the club boys always available for a taste of that.

He had to say that fooling the boy, leading him where he wanted him to be was almost as pleasurable as the sex itself. He admired Carl who had practiced the art of manipulation to perfection and had somehow inspired him this evening. It was quite different from the violence and brute force he had exerted earlier that day; it required more labor but if successful, could perhaps bring more satisfaction. Chandler was certainly worth it. He would be his prize, his medal to show around but he would still need other outlets to vent his inner rage. That was how he would lead his new life.

A new orgasm was slowly building in his loins and he brought Chandler to climax first and told him he was soon going to come, leaving him enough time to pull away.

He did not talk about what they would do the next day, of what he wanted to do, the boy knew that very well. He was pursuing his new strategy, avoiding reinforcing the boy's defenses, and on the contrary putting him in the role of the needy one. Tools was convinced that now that he had tasted whatever pleasures sex could bring, at his demanding age, he was the one who would ask for more even at a price.

Sleep came fast and for real this time. The boy spent the night in the comfort of his arms, his trust in the man revived for now.

***

It was dark, a cave, a cellar? Louise held her gun tightly, now was the moment of truth.

The two boys, no the two men, they were definitely men now, were on their knees, pleading, crying. Why was it so dark? She could barely see their faces. She had to be sure; she could not make a mistake.

It was to be easier than the previous time; everybody said it was easier the second time. It would not be fast though, not this time. She wanted them to suffer, to repent if that was possible, not that it would change the outcome. She had planned so many things the last time and had not been able to carry them out.

"Gary, Luke, you know who I am, you certainly did not forget me, did you? For my part, I did not and for very good reasons. I have prepared for this for five years, five long years during which I thought of you every single day."

She still couldn't see their faces. She wanted to see their faces. Something was wrong; there should be some light.

"Miss Simons."

Who was calling her name? There were several voices. She didn't want any distractions; she had to stay concentrated on her task.

"Let me tell you from the start that you're not going to leave this place alive…"

The men's crying and pleading had stopped. A hanging bulb was suddenly lighting the room. In front of her, it was not Luke and Gary; it was Carl Fisher and Gregory Sutton. They were getting up, undoing their bindings. She raised her gun and pulled the trigger but nothing happened, it was a toy, nothing else.

"Miss Simons!"

It was coming from behind her, her eyes left the toy gun and she turned her head to see who it was. They were all there, the boys of Saint Xavier, hurt, naked, some standing, some lying down, bleeding. She was seized from behind, she felt a knife at her throat, and she woke up.

Chapter 23

It was two days ago; Burt Algood could not believe his luck at first. He found her while checking new houses with Ethan, looking for food and anything else they might need. She was running, her younger brother by her side, pursued by three ferals who were gaining on them. Quickly he drew his new gun, found only the day before and equipped with a silencer. He still was not too accurate with his shots but if he got close enough, he could not miss. Ethan was with him holding his baseball bat as they signaled the fugitives to come their way. The two of them immediately veered in their direction followed by the ferals in hot pursuit. The silencer was a welcome addition. Burt knew by now that ferals were usually found in groups and that noise could bring more of them. To flee was usually the best option, but not this time.

The girl was perhaps sixteen or seventeen, her brother no more than twelve. They had a large knife and a golf club as weapons and as soon as they had joined Burt and Ethan, they turned around to face the ferals with them.

It took only three shots to the head at close range for the fight to be over. He did not miss once.

The girl was called Margarita and the boy Esteban, both Latinos, as their looks clearly suggested. They had been part of a larger group overrun by a pack of ferals the day before. Along with a few others, they had escaped, but they became separated from the main group. Those three ferals had been pursuing them the whole time and they had not stopped running since. Both were exhausted and sweating profusely. Burt, with some difficulty, was trying not to stare at the girl's boobs or the rest of her features; he barely glanced at the boy. Not the prettiest girl he had ever met, for sure, chubby and with the shadow of a mustache above her upper lip, but nonetheless his salvation after months of feminine drought.

Back at the house, Margarita wasted no time in letting Burt know that she understood what his needs were and that it was not a problem, she had done it many times before. As she undressed, Burt saw marks on her arms that looked like cigarette burns and other signs of mistreatment: it was clear she had known very rough times.

It might have stopped him. He did not want to force her to satisfy his overwhelming libido, but his craving was too intense, and besides, she had freely offered herself. He had them take a shower and spent the whole afternoon with the girl in his bedroom, his first female partner in a very long time. The first night was a repeat of the same. He needed an excuse for Ethan, who used to spend the night with him, so he told him that it was temporary, which was a half-lie. Due to his high libido, he knew that one partner was not going to be enough and he would need to use the boys too, but now in his mind the girl came first. Things were going back to "normal" if you could call it that.

She was quite adequate and willing, perhaps even flattered by the man's attentions. But she certainly did not expect such persistence and was pulling away from him when he wanted sex for the second time that morning.

She had obviously overheard him talking with Ethan.

"I've done my part. Since you're into boys too, do it with Esteban, let him pay his due. He's used to it. I'm done," she said to Burt's surprise.

"What? What makes you think? Your brother?" He was taken aback by the girl's knowledge of his recent weakness for boys, his first impulse calling for a denial.

"Our father pimped him to his gang for years; you can't find a better boy pussy around. Haven't you had a good look at him?"

"No, not really," answered Burt, his erection demanding an outlet.

"Do you want me to fetch him for you, or perhaps the other one you were talking to yesterday?"

It had been as simple as that.

Esteban was sleeping on the couch in the living room with five others. For sure, the house was becoming overcrowded; she woke him up to send him to the man's arms and bed.

The sun was coming up sending its rays through the windows, Burt really looked at Esteban for the first time that morning, and he was mesmerized.

He was a boy god, how could he have missed such evidence? Gold skin that kind of reflected the sun's rays, a mop of raven black curly hair, beautiful green eyes in an open face with chiseled yet delicate features, rosy lips and a pretty nose. As he pulled off his tee shirt and shorts, he revealed a smooth and hairless body, harmonious with long legs and a well-defined torso. Contrary to his sister, his skin was flawless, devoid of any scars: a true marvel for anyone who knew how to appreciate it.

To his surprise and despite his reluctance, Burt was becoming such a person.

Without a word being said, the boy removed his underwear: he was offering himself. He was casual and relaxed as if it was the most natural thing to be doing with a man he had met less than a day ago.

Burt, whose erection had deflated while waiting for his early morning visitor, was rock hard again. What the hell, I've done it already, and the boy, by the look of it, is a pro, as his sister said.

Esteban, now smiling broadly, took the initiative, his moves where sensual and calculated. After rubbing his own small yet charming erection, he joined Burt on the bed, caressing the man's engorged shaft with expertise and then putting his mouth to work on it in the same manner.

"Ahhh," was all Burt could utter when he saw Margarita looking at them through the half-open door. After exchanging a glance with the man that said, "What did I tell you?" before closing the door silently.

The next minutes represented probably the best sex he had had in a long time. The boy was a little sexpot with none of the reservations that his previous young male partners displayed. Furthermore, the boy, given to him by his own sister, knew everything there was to know about sex and the desires of men. He did not have to ask for anything, it was spontaneous and freely offered, thus there was no guilt attached. He was surprised he enjoyed it so intensely, when moments earlier he had been at it with a girl. Girls had been what he had missed, lusted after, and dreamed of for so long … boys being considered only a second rate choice. How could that be?

Whatever, Esteban would now be the one to share his bed every night, that was certain.

His needs had not abated since that morning revelation and he knew that Ethan, who used to spend his nights with him, would resent being put aside. He could not escape spending some time with him to mend things, and it was certainly pleasant enough. That afternoon, while having sex with the boy, he told him of the changes, justifying them with the arrival of Margarita. His needs could be more than satisfied now, but he was used to episodic sex, going from one partner to the next. Having them all together in the same place required some adjustments to avoid conflicts.

Of course, Burt wanted to learn more about the brother and sister. It was quite by chance in the late afternoon that the first answers came up.

Margarita was not the epitome of womanhood, slightly overweight, with her mustache, hairy legs, and smelly armpits. She had also been a rather passive lover, the kind that looked at her watch waiting for it to be over. Yet, she still had a rather pretty face, generous breasts, and a real vagina, made for that purpose. It was while leaving his bedroom after his round of sex with Ethan that he overheard an interesting conversation between the girl and Bradley. The boy wanted sex with her, and as he said, he saw no justification in Burt having her to himself. His male pride was back, boys were not important; it was just to pass the time. Girls were the real thing.

Margarita was not interested, it was also implied in her answer that she had slept with Burt only to secure her stay with the group and that she would use Esteban as an easy way to escape that duty as often as possible. Bradley could have him too and leave her alone, he was not the man of the house, and she owed him nothing.

Burt now recalled how the girl had seized the opportunity to deliver her brother into his arms, and be rid of her bed duties, as soon as possible. Burt had never been one to force anyone to do what they did not want to. True, he had used subterfuge with the boys but never any force, yet he still felt guilty for that.

He was intrigued by the strange relation between brother and sister. How could she use the boy that way? Were the scars he had seen on her body a clue he should follow, there were none on the boy. What was their story, what had they gone through together? Then he wondered, are they really brother and sister? They did not look that much alike. If he could have a real conversation with Esteban, one without Margarita, what would the boy tell him?

That second night was very different from the first, this one spent mostly with Esteban. The girl had seen how much Burt appreciated the boy, she did not wait long to suggest that from now on they could spend the nights together. Esteban was not at all disturbed by the news. It was clear to Burt that his sister did not really want to have sex with either him, Bradley, or anyone else. But why had she been so willing at first? It had been so easy, Burt had barely asked for it. Why accept it, only to later use Esteban as a substitute? It was certainly not a sure bet. Many men without his addiction to sex would not have fallen for the ploy and would never have touched the boy. She had no way of knowing, at first, that he would openly recognize he had sex with the boys under his roof, one of the strongest taboos of the times. He did not understand her motives but was glad to have found the boy.

That second night had been a true delight to the point that he had forgotten to ask all his questions, happy to simply enjoy the child's company and talents. Esteban had truly no inhibitions and no limitations concerning sex and was ready to do anything that could arouse his partner.

Burt just had to say he would like to see him dressed up, for the boy to go fetch sexy clothes in the closet. There were a lot that Burt had accumulated over the years for the girls that came to visit him, but also more recently for Ethan and any other boy willing to play that game. Most of his old stuff did not fit them very well, so when he went out to collect food and other necessities he used the opportunity to look for any girl's room, bringing back what could suit them better.

Esteban had a wide choice available and put on a very lewd fashion show. Using the man's reactions as clues to pick the next outfit he went from the shortest shorts with tube socks, like in the seventies, to more girly stuff and lingerie, all the while flirting with the man. Using light touches and brushes of different body parts, he provocatively exposed his generous and welcoming twin mounds. Ah, those two pert globes! Certainly, worth any pair of boobs he had played with before.

Breathing hard, oblivious of the heat and sweating profusely, Burt was ready to explode. He could wait no longer. Catching the pretty boy, he ripped away his silk stockings and just had time to enter the boy's well-practiced ring to deliver his load. So excited was he, that his erection was back in a minute and pounding away in the boy's slick hot canal.

Esteban was moaning as if ecstatic, pushing back and rotating his hips to enhance the man's pleasure. Was it fake or sincere? Was he enjoying himself as much as he implied? Burt did not know but it certainly heightened his enthusiasm and at that moment, he did not really care.

"Ohhh, Esteban, I love you."

He was giving all he had and felt the child's own erection under his hand. He climaxed again, a long exquisite feeling that he wished would never end. But of course, it did, leaving him empty but satisfied. He always wanted more, that was his curse, but for the time being he felt satiated and willing to give back some of the pleasure he had received.

He had done everything with girls and women, kissed, tasted, licked, and played with every part of their anatomy, but he had never sucked any of his boy's cocklets. Turning Esteban over, he started kissing him passionately all the way down his neck and torso to his hairless groin.

"You're all mine boy."

Without hesitation, he gobbled the hard morsel, finding the taste and texture rather agreeable and pleasured it until he felt it twitch nicely in his mouth.

They kept on making love for the next two hours, finally falling asleep in each other arms.

***

It was the end, Max knew it, but it was not the end everyone expected, and that was a problem. Max had already resolved to restrain Ivor the previous day. He was becoming too dangerous. Then after being on the brink of death, the man's health had seemed to improve.

If his body was getting better, his mind was not. There was only one meaning, he was becoming feral. That put his lover in an unexpected dilemma. Either: end his life or take him away from the school and set him free. It was a crazy idea, one that no one here would accept, but it became Max's obsession. He did not want Ivor to die. It would be different if he had died due to the flu, but to kill him, or let anyone else do it was out of the question. He knew Ivor was lost to him for now, but as long as there was life, there was hope. It was a stupid, absurd idea but perhaps one day Ivor could be turned back.

The two houseboys had been sent away, or rather he gave them to Fisher to do with as he pleased. He did not want them to suspect anything or spill the beans. Now he had to find a way to leave the school with Ivor, without being stopped. The first problem was Ivor himself, whose only idea was to main or kill whoever was around. He had to knock him out for at least an hour. Then he had to leave the building, find a vehicle and go far enough away to be able to release him and give him a chance.

Among the medicines the nurse had left, he found what he needed to put Ivor to sleep. It took a heavy dose but it seemed to work. Diverting the attention of the two boys on guard duty outside the apartment was easy, he just told them Ivor was dead and that he wanted some peace before going to bury him. Then he went to find a car in the parking lot, fortunately most had their keys in the ignition. The last obstacle was the gate but once again, he was convincing enough, saying that he wanted to bury Ivor in a nice spot in the forest and they let him pass.

He drove for about fifteen miles before stopping as he heard Ivor stirring, close to waking up.

During the journey he thought of the years they had spent together. Images, memories, started to flood back, of when he first met Ivor, as a terrified twelve-year-old not knowing what to expect.

The men with him had said nothing; he was just merchandise for them. A package they had to deliver, money to collect. How much was he worth? He had no idea. They were Russian mafia, their tattoos barely hidden. There were two other boys with him as afraid as he was. Who was the buyer? What did he want to do to them? Fuck them? Use their organs? Snuff them? Eat them? Nothing was impossible, the craziest theories, fed by years of rumors, scary stories heard here and there, were crossing their young minds. After three years in a Russian orphanage Max was no innocent, neither were his two companions. They had been taken to a nondescript house in the suburb of an alien city: they knew they were in America but nothing more.

Ivor came the same day, a pretty, young boy accompanying him. He was a charming man, all smiles, elegantly dressed, clearly used to obtaining anything he wanted, but there was more to him. Max had known it as soon as their eyes had met. There was an edge, a determination, an awareness–the smiles were a facade, it was serious business.

They were talking English and Max could understand only a few words. At first, he had been looking for a weapon and a way to escape, but as Ivor's eyes met his own, he felt strangely reassured. It felt as if they knew each other, as if they could talk without exchanging words. Then the mafia goons told them to take off their clothes. None of them hesitated, you did not resist such men, though as soon as the order was given, Ivor stopped them and Max understood that he had made his choice, pointing his finger at him.

From there it all went very fast. Ivor's chauffeur brought a briefcase, it was opened, and the money checked. The two goons took Ivor's boy, who seemed less than pleased, and his two companions and they left without a word. Ivor took Max by the hand and led him to the limousine waiting outside; they drove away without a second thought for the fate of the three boys gone in a van only a few minutes earlier.

Two hours later, they reached Ivor's mansion. Straight away, he took him to his bedroom and made love to him for the first time. To his surprise, it had been a natural and wonderful experience:

Ivor had been gentle and considerate. The following six months were like a dream come true. Their relationship deepened, going much further than anything Max could hope for. He learned English, and discovered a new world–a world that was the opposite from the one he left.

Despite that, one nagging image kept coming back to him, the face of the pretty boy that had accompanied Ivor the first time. Everyone told him six months was the deadline. He would be returned, a used or malfunctioning toy, to be exchanged for a new one. As the days passed, his anguish grew but he did not talk of it, too afraid to end it all early. He had no choice but to accept his fate.

The dreaded day came and he was taken back to the same house where the same men were waiting with three new boys, as terrified as he had been six months earlier. Now Max could understand all that was said. He also knew right away that something was different. Ivor seemed to be watching him closely when he had been indifferent to the other kid that first day. Again, the boys were soon asked to undress which they did without protest, Ivor did not stop them, this time, watching each one with interest. For Max, every minute was a nightmare bringing him closer to the edge, he wanted to shout, to jump from a window but also to embrace, one last time, the man who had brought him so much happiness and now so much pain. It was the separation that hurt more than what was awaiting him with the goons. Ivor was making a close inspection of the three boys for sale but was still sending glances his way, when he was done he took two of them by the hand and brought them to stand in front of Max.

"Which one would you take home?" asked Ivor, with a mysterious expression.

He hesitated and then said, "I wouldn't know." He was still inspecting the two frightened naked boys, when he added at last, "I would pick this one."

"Good choice, Max, a beauty indeed." Then turning to the mafia guys, he said, "I've made my choice, my chauffeur will bring you the money, have them get dressed again."

There were no more words exchanged and ten minutes later, Max, incredulous, was back in the limousine with Ivor and Yuri, the new houseboy. The next day, his status had changed, no more a houseboy himself and going to a select school in the area.

He had later supposed the whole thing had been some kind of a last test. Ivor wanting to see how he would react or perhaps he had changed his mind at the last minute and decided to keep him. The whole episode was never ever discussed.

Ivor was becoming agitated as he sat him against a tree and took off the manacles from his hands and feet. He was still restrained by ropes; lose enough so that within a few minutes he would be able to free himself.

Max waited for a few moments, until Ivor could open his eyes, he wanted to be sure he was alright and perhaps still hoped for a miracle before leaving him. As soon as he regained consciousness, Thorvald strained to get free and attack Max–there was nothing more that could be done; he stepped back, looking at the man he loved for as long as was reasonable.

As he drove away, Max could not hold back his tears.

***

Louise and the boys had been following the ferals' tracks for several hours now in the heat of the day. Their task was an important one, and as a seasoned tracker, Louise knew that both perseverance and patience were key to their success … It was time to stop and rest. Louise signaled the three boys, who grabbed their water bottles and finding shade under a large oak tree slumped down against its large trunk. It was hot and dry; it had been for weeks now. Dunn was right, judging by the parched grass and undergrowth a single spark could set this whole forest ablaze.

Louise stood by, ever watchful of her surroundings, and looking like the protective mother standing over her brood … her thoughts ran to the boys riding with her.

Bob was her favorite: she loved that kid. He was smart, with a likable personality, outgoing, not afraid to say what was on his mind and act accordingly. Since the flu crisis, he had lost a lot of the behavior that had given him his nickname, "The Flash." He was now measured and he could stay put for some great length of time. Of course, he was also gifted with weapons, a natural sharp shooter who handled them as if he had been born with them: a strange fact for one so young. Looking at Bob was also pleasant to the eyes; he was a very pretty boy.

Young Brett, she did not know him as well. He was certainly likable and with a beauty all his own but very different, shy and quite a dreamer, much less mature from what she knew of boys his age, having worked at the school for some time now. He had no predilection for nature, the forest, or riding horses, he was certainly more at ease in front of a computer or a piano. Still, he was doing his best, trying not to show his anxiety.

Then there was Walt, more a young man than a boy, towering above the other two and herself. He was an easygoing charmer with some of the gawkiness of his age accentuated by his size. He was always thinking first of the needs of those around him. Like an affectionate older brother, he was watching the two younger boys and particularly Bob, of course. Those two were more than friends, and it went without saying, even if they were careful not to show it too openly. Old taboos were slowly dying but not quite gone yet, and anyway, at their age, it was all new to them, they probably were insecure and did not want to convey their feelings more than necessary.

Louise did not want anything bad to happen to any of these boys and vowed to bring them all safely back to Saint Xavier. It was not going to be an easy task and she felt somewhat guilty to be the one that had chosen Bob to come with her.

She had tried so far to take upon herself most of the dangers they might encounter by riding ahead and calling to them only when she was certain that the way was clear. They could have used the drone but she preferred to save its battery for later when there would be no better alternative.

Retracing the tracks of the six ferals who had made their way to Saint Xavier would be far more difficult once they left the forest. But at least she already had a good idea of the direction they had come from. They seemed to have been going in a more or less straight line towards school. Did they know where they were going? If so, that was troubling. They were supposed to be unable to align two ideas; all this should be way beyond their capabilities. Still she did not believe it could be chance.

"Do you think we have far to go yet," asked Brett.

"I honestly don't have the slightest idea but I hope so, the farther we have to go, then the further the menace is from the school."

"What do you expect to find? If we find anything, that is," demanded Bob.

"A large group of ferals most probably. You're right though Bob, it will not be easy to follow those tracks once out of the forest and in built-up areas. There are no tracks on the asphalt and it will probably become more dangerous."

"But if we don't find tracks, we can't follow them. How much longer before we turn back to Saint Xavier?" Brett seemed hopeful their mission would end sooner than predicted by Louise.

"We'll search for them for as long as we can. We've enough food for a few days. The school's future might depend on the success of this mission, Brett. It's a question of survival. Even if we lose their tracks, the direction they were coming from is quite clear now."

"Isn't it strange to see that they were heading straight for the school?" Walt showed the same concern as Louise, "It can't be a coincidence."

"Yes, that's troubling. It seems those ferals are quite different from what we have been told and that's why it's important to learn all we can, Brett."

"I understand; I'll do my best."

"I'm sure you will and I'll make sure with Walt that nothing bad happens to any of us. We will avoid any direct contact with them and that's why you are so important to us, Brett, your drone will be our eyes and ears."

"That I certainly can do," replied the charming boy with a smile, finding back some confidence.

***

Miles Dunn was in his office; he had asked Stuart to fetch Alex Masseria and was waiting for him. The morning had been spent placing movement detectors and cameras that had been built over the last few days. Ten of them were now operational and more were on the way. The video center in the same building as his office could now receive their signals and images, a huge improvement for the school security. Two boys would be watching the screens at all times.

He hoped Alex would be able to tell him more about Cole's fate and provide proof to help topple Carl Fisher, ending his nefarious influence.

Miles wondered why he had not acted sooner as Louise had suggested, but he knew the answer. To act had a cost, a cost in blood and lives.

He had been through it all before. One incident named Ar Rutbah in particular. His unit had been ambushed and his only options were to stay put, knowing he risked many casualties while waiting for close air support, or send a few men to open an escape route. Of course, the right decision was the second one, even if he knew that some of the men he sent could be wounded or killed. The fact that he had participated in the operation himself did not alleviate his feelings of guilt when he wrote to their families. He felt responsible for every death under his command and to this day remembered each of the names and faces, every detail of their known lives.

He had not expected to be faced with making such choices again, but he was wrong. He had sent Louise, Walt, Bob, and the less prepared Brett on a dangerous mission, exposing them to peril. Not just from ferals, but some of the survivors too–people akin to Carl Fisher, Greg Sutton, or worse even. There were no limits to what men were capable of.

A confrontation was coming; he knew that feeling quite well. It could come from the outside, or the inside and he had to prepare for both. The tension in the school was mounting. He knew that when it came there would be losses; it was unavoidable.

He was in a dark mood when Alex knocked on his door.

"Mister Dunn, you wanted to see me," asked the boy.

"Yes, Alex, I have a few questions for you."

"Did I do anything wrong?"

The boy had been expecting a quite different reason for his presence, one that did not need words or questions. He had been eager; it was not really the sex, for he mostly thought it cool to have been chosen by Dunn, to feel close to him, an important man, someone that counted here at Saint Xavier.

"No, you did not. Why would you think so? Come closer."

Alex did not have to be told to know what was expected of him. He pulled off his tee shirt and shorts and wearing only his socks and sneakers joined the man behind his desk. They kissed and sensing a pressure behind his neck to go down, Alex soon was undoing the man's slacks and bringing his smiling mouth to the large and engorged member there.

Miles had not wanted it to come to that, to use the boy that way. He wanted something completely different from him, answers to important questions. But in his present mood he did not find the strength to put an end to it, one hand on the child's head the other on his rump, and his fingers already entering and exploring his enticing pucker.

He seized the boy, pushed away all the paraphernalia on the desk to replace it with the child's young, compliant, and slender body. He held him in place firmly as he entered him in one go from behind. There was a slight shudder from the prone form under him but no complaint. The fuck was intense but short; no words were exchanged; and few caresses or kisses. That is the way it went most times with Alex, no preliminaries, just a fast and rather rough affair. It had been quite pleasant at first for Miles but now he thought it lacked the deeper bond he felt with Sven, Anthony, and he hoped soon, Brett. Still it was satisfactory considering his present needs. Despite his young age, Alex had left a small sticky present on the desk showing clearly his own appreciation of the man's performance.

"Was it good?" he asked, turning around and looking at Miles in a seductive way.

"The best, as always with you young man. I'm sorry that it has to be that way though."

"Why, what's wrong with it?"

"I could take better care of you. Do it differently. Make it last longer. Would you like that?"

"Well, I don't know. I really like it that way. I don't really know any other way and I'm not much into girly stuff." The boy wanting to please added, "I can try, if you want to."

"You are certainly worth it, Alex. I would do my best to make it very special. I was very much like you not very long ago. I've learned a lot since and there's nothing girly in sharing and giving pleasure."

Miles sat back in his chair, bringing the boy with him, putting him in his lap, lying against the man's chest, his arms holding him close.

"Let's cuddle a bit. You don't mind?"

"No, of course not." Still Miles felt the boy was uneasy. It was clear that the child was not used to such a show of affection, outside of sex.

"As I told you, I have some questions to ask you."

"Sure, ask away, what is it about?"

"About Cole Anderson."

"Ah, that. I don't know much. I was just intrigued by a conversation I overheard between Mister Fisher and the nurse. Hasn't Stuart already told you most of it?"

"It was Brett who told me what Stuart had heard from you. So you understand why I want to hear it from you, directly. I need to know what their exact words were, or as close to it as possible."

"I can't recall all of it. I didn't pay any attention at first. Only when I heard the word Cole did I really listen to them. I know of only one Cole at Saint Xavier, in fact everybody knows him with all the swimming medals and trophies he brought back to the school. We all thought he was dead."

"Use your memory and do your best."

"It wasn't just what they said, but the way they said it, as if they were talking of a thing rather than a boy, I remember that very well. Mister Fisher can be like that sometimes. They said they were having fun with him and the nurse talked of experiments. Do you think it means he was sick and she tried different medicines? I don't see where the fun part fits in. When Mister Fisher uses the word fun with us, you know what it means." Alex patted his cute naked butt following his words with a clear motion to make his point.

"I see, very well. What else? Did they say where Cole was? The gymnasium, somewhere else?"

Alex thought for a moment.

"No, sorry, they didn't. Ah, yes! They also said threesome, that it been a long time since they had one together. That was strange; I didn't think Mister Fisher liked women."

"I think you're right Alex. You've been very helpful."

"Why not ask them directly? I could do it for you, if you want."

"That's nice of you Alex." Miles hesitated; he had wanted to have such a conversation with the boy already, to know if he could be trusted like Anthony, or, on the contrary, if he worked for Carl. What had been said so far was quite reassuring. He saw no reason for the headmaster to let rumors about Cole go around the school and even less reach him.

"Should I go now?" The boy was about to leave the man's knees to show his willingness.

Miles held him back.

"No," he turned the boy around so that they were face to face, the boy not missing the occasion to throw his hips forward and brush his still erect cocklet with Miles much bigger tool, "You little rascal, we need to have a very serious conversation."

***

With no new flu victims and an empty gymnasium, or infirmary, as it had become, Shirley had all the time she wanted to pursue more pleasant preoccupations. She was finally beginning to believe Carl when he said they would not just survive, but thrive, with the means and power to satisfy all their needs and desires. In those first weeks, she had used many of the drugs at her disposal to escape the impending doom. Now her use was back under control again.

The future was smiling on her. Her brigade of young boys was more than willing to let her teach them about drugs and their different uses, but also about sex. There were daily classes on those subjects. From there it was easy to brainwash them and have them embrace her cause whatever the consequences.

Her two protégés of the moment were Harvey van Huys and Grayson Driscoll. The first was the more dangerous: she had not found his limits yet and he acted without remorse. Grayson was more of a rebel who liked to break the rules, still he needed an audience to perform, as he liked to catch the limelight and be the center of attention. It seemed to her that in reality he had an inferiority complex and had found an easy way to give himself status. More importantly, she discovered he held a grudge against Dunn, which she thought would prove useful.

Then there was Cole. The boy had been mistreated by Carl, but it was nothing compared to what she had done. He was in a wretched state barely able to stand. She had tested all kinds of drugs on him, and then given him as a plaything to her most trusted boys. She now wondered if he was worth keeping or if she should ask Harvey to end his miserable life? It would be an interesting test. Killing people that were dying anyway was quite different to doing it to a living fellow student and the star of the swim team. For a while she had thought of doing it herself, just to see how it felt. Perhaps use a plastic bag and emulate Greg, who had confided in her this particular obsession of his. The idea had come and gone several times already. She could always be there when the deed was done; it would probably not feel that much different.

She was watching Harvey fuck Cole with his usual stamina, while she enjoyed Grayson's tongue on her cunt. Both were good looking and she had taught them how to pleasure her. They had been very enthusiastic pupils with young Cole as a bonus, with whom they could do as they pleased for as long and as hard as they wished. His hole never had a chance to heal and still bled from time to time.

"Come over here, Harvey, and bring Cole with you."

The boy obliged pulling along the distraught boy with him. He had taken out his glistening erect cock, which showed streaks of red.

As soon as they were within reach, Shirley pulled him to her and deep kissed him. Grayson raised his head smiling at them deciding to take his friend's place in Cole's battered hole.

"You'll have to change the sheets again, he's leaking all over them," he said as he impaled him with ease. "Though at least there's no need to waste lube on its fuck-hole, blood works quite well."

In the space of a single sentence, Grayson had transformed Cole from a "person" to an "it" with a convenient hole to fuck, much to the amusement of Shirley.

"Who cares for lube with your tiny tool, anyway," mocked Harvey, taking a breath of fresh air between two rounds of hard kissing.

"Time for the real thing, my precious boy," said Shirley, wiping gently the boy's cock in the already stained sheets. The nurse was of a mind to respect some measure of hygiene. Once done, she happily guided it to the entrance of her womb; it was hard as a rock and of a respectable size.

Harvey sighed as he felt the heat take hold and started the to and fro motion that would bring him to orgasm.

Shirley was watching the face of young Cole while she stroked the soft black hair of Grayson, who in turn was concentrating on the task of extracting maximum satisfaction out of Cole's ass. The only reaction to the other boy's onslaught was the occasional wince from time to time when the pain was sharper. He was too far gone for anything else. Was there any reason to keep him anymore? She was undecided.

He was a strong little chap, and certainly, if she stopped drugging him and gave him time to recover he would be back in shape in a few days. There would be some psychological damage of course, but who cared about that anymore? Her brigade liked to have his ready ass available at all times, one they could abuse at leisure and without restraint. There were bruises all over his body, abrasions around his mouth, gained while clamping his mouth open for energetic face fucking. For some of them he was no more than a punch bag, something she had encouraged.

Grayson needed him more than most of the others. As a boy in the lower school, he was liable to be on the receiving end. Only his position in the brigade had prevented it so far. His good looks were a magnet for quite a few of the boys from the upper school, especially the older seniors. So it was important for him to have access to Cole to differentiate himself from the other lower classmen, but a replacement for Cole could always be found if needed.

Grayson made a little grunt as he came for the second time that afternoon. Leaving Cole, he moved closer to Shirley in order to play with her boobs, which fascinated him.

"Suck on them, little man. Don't be shy."

As he obliged with enthusiasm she turned back to Harvey who was getting close. She was kissing his face and soft lips, watching intently his expression as a deep pleasure gripped him and took over.

"You lucky boys, I'm sure you never dreamed you could be enjoying yourselves like this. If you listen and do as you're told, then believe me, this is just the beginning."

"I'll do whatever you want," answered Harvey, spent, but who would soon be ready for more. He was ogling Grayson's ass and Shirley guessed what he was thinking. He never had enough and was always searching for more, even better if it hurt. No inferior was spared and he certainly considered the younger boy inferior. He knew that fucking his cute ass would shame him.

"Stop thinking about that," Shirley told him with a gentle slap on the head. She had learned very well how to read his thoughts. He raised his head and showed his wicked smile.

"It's cute though, and needs to be plowed."

"Certainly, but not today. Haven't you had enough with me and Cole?"

"Well, you know, the forbidden fruit is always more tasty."

"I know but think twice before doing anything of the kind. You mustn't forget whose side you're on, besides I may have another deed you'll enjoy more."

Harvey pulled back his hand that had been hovering above Grayson's pert behind. The other boy was oblivious of everything but the breast he was suckling. Cole in a stupor was abandoned on his side of the bed, in peace for the moment.

"I need you to prove your value to me. Show me that you are worth all the trust that I have put in you."

"What would that be?" He was interested: his eyes were shining. "Something bad, I suppose."

Shirley looked at Cole, he had fallen asleep, his head turned toward them with some saliva dribbling from his half-open mouth and pooling on the sheet.

She was about to speak when she noticed Grayson listening, his tongue playing lazily with her teat.

"Later, I'll tell you later." Some things still needed to be kept between them for now; she didn't think the younger boy was ready for that, yet.

***

They met on one of the paths leading to the sports field.

On one side, there was Johnny, Matthew, Logan, and Ginger, and on the other side, Ke, accompanied by Paul and Peter, Carl's catamites as he called them. Greg had ordered him to watch over them.

Like Ke, they were not happy, despite the free access to the game room, the best food and snacks, electricity, air conditioning and all the advantages that came with their new status. Carl was becoming cruel towards them and they saw no way out. They were at his disposal day and night, most of the time locked in the harem or whorehouse as it was now called by most around them. Well not really locked but they never dared to venture outside without permission and supervision, a job usually delegated to Ke. To do otherwise would bring a swift and painful punishment. Worst of all was how they were treated by those around Carl: they were made to feel like slaves, which in truth they were becoming.

For Ke, the resentment he felt toward his old roommates and Dunn had gone and he regretted choosing the wrong side. Life with Greg and his pals had become difficult and he knew that it could change for the worse at any moment. Those prefects had come to think that they ruled everything at Saint Xavier, he had seen many examples of that in the last days, but so far, it had not concerned him directly, except for the other night. They had been drinking and Pablo was looking for someone to bully, something he liked to do more often recently. There were quite a few underlings with them to play with but that was not funny enough for him. He wanted someone new, someone who thought that he was safe from them. Ke fit the bill perfectly. It had started with teasing, then he asked Ke to fetch him more scotch. As he brought it, he chased away the small boy who had been fellating him and seized Ke, fondling him none too gently. There had not been the slightest reaction from Greg, slouched in the couch a few feet from them and watching the proceedings with a smirk.

Ke hoped that if he did not react, then Pablo would tire of it and let it go. But it was not to be.

"I think it's time you learned to service us in the right way. The way a little fat-assed slut should."

"Let me go," Ke quietly pleaded, not wanting to provoke him while sending a desperate look toward Greg who was still observing the scene.

"Not till you've learned how to service my cock properly. Let's start with your mouth." He caught Ke's neck in a grip and pushed it down toward his smelly crotch. He was not the kind that washed often.

"Open up and watch your teeth. You got a lot to learn, but you're in luck 'cause I'll be tutoring you."

His pants and fly were already open and the erect cock free, still glistening with the previous boy's saliva.

Until the last moment, he had hoped to hear Greg's voice telling Pablo to stop and leave him alone, but it did not come … it was Lewis that saved the day.

"Come on Pablo, look what I've got for you, you've been lusting after him for the last week. Poor Ke can't compete with that, look at that pretty face and what an ass!"

Ke's lips were mere inches from Pablo's leaking glans and stayed there for a few seconds while Pablo considered Lewis' proposition.

"Okay, send him over. Ke's lesson will have to resume later." Ke felt the grip on his neck loosen and then return, the senior boy was not quite done with him. "You've got to kiss it goodbye, then I'll let you go. Don't worry I won't forget to continue your lesson," added Pablo with a laugh.

Ke knew he had no choice, he closed his eyes and touched it with his lips firmly shut. Pablo was having none of it and holding Ke by the hair, rubbed his cock under Ke's nose and across his lips for a full minute, all the while leaking copious amounts of precum. Then he was pushed away like a discarded toy and he ran to wash his face and mouth to the sound of laughter from Pablo, Greg, and the other upper classmen. That was the trigger, which caused the feelings of terror to return: a terror, which he had subdued to some extent by following Greg–the one who had saved his life that fateful night in the gym. The nightmares too had started again, every night.

That incident had been necessary to open his eyes to all the things he disliked in his new life.

As soon as they saw the dog, Paul and Peter knelt by his side and started to pet him, she let them do it with good grace but when Ke came closer she started to growl.

"She knows you, it seems. You traitor!" hissed Johnny, looking daggers at him, "How could you do that to us? You almost got those kids raped, or worse. Shame on you!"

"I didn't know, I'm sorry."

"Bullshit. You had everything planned. If Sven and William had not been there…"

"It was not against you."

It was the first time since those events that they had met face to face. He was flooded with emotions. How could he have been so blind? He remembered his glee that night at getting his petty revenge, how good he felt when he reported his success. True, he had wanted to join Omar and the others at the shop and participate in what they did to the refugee kids, but when he got there, it was already over.

Tears were coming to his eyes. He now understood all too well what they might have endured.

"Yes, you can cry your fill, it takes nothing from what you've done, turning your back on us for no reason!" Johnny had lost all his humor and natural cheerfulness.

"I was not myself."

"Go tell that to Eric and his sister!" was the irate boy's reply.

Peter and Paul were silent; they had reluctantly left the dog's side, wanting to avoid any incident. They had enough problems as it was. All they wanted now was to resume their tour, it was one of the few moments of freedom they had each day. The rest of the time, they were confined in that dreadful new room beside Carl's apartment. Ke had become their chaperone most of the time, taking them to the game room or for a walk once or twice a day. They had good reasons to be unhappy, they rarely saw their friends anymore and had been warned not to complain to anyone. They were told to feel honored to have been chosen to serve the headmaster.

Matthew was holding back, he did not know if he should intervene or not. He had not been close to Ke the way Johnny had been. He agreed with his words but saw the other boy's distress, it did not appear fake. Everybody could make mistakes. Should they give him a second chance?

"Go away before I get angry and punch you," were Johnny's last words while he stood his ground, watching Ke, head down, passing by with the other two in tow.

"Wait," said Matthew.

"What?" questioned Johnny, turning toward him with scorn. "Why?"

Ke had stopped, not daring to turn around yet.

"You were friends once, I believe, you should give him a second chance. That's what friends do." In a hushed tone, he added, "He could be useful…"

"What?"

"You should never close the door," insisted Matthew.

"Well," Johnny had finally understood Matthew's meaning, "I don't know. I'll think it over Ke. I'm not alone in this. I'll have to discuss it with Walt."

Finally, Ke turned around and said in a shaky voice.

"Thank you, Johnny, tell them I'm sorry. Thank you, Matthew."

"That's not a done thing yet," insisted Johnny. "See you."

"See you." Ke turned back again and was on his way.

***

His climax was starting, at least he could still enjoy this, the boy under him was not smiling, but he did not mind. That would come in time. He was now his main bed partner, with Liz and Jules mostly second choices. He had been watching Red's games earlier as he liked to do, comfortably seated on a couch with the naked boy in his lap, the other two close by. Strangely, he found the bloody spectacle unsettling, as did his new pretty boy who had turned his head away.

Roy Neary was not himself. What was going on? Since he had met Devon Holloway, he was getting soft. How was it possible that this mere boy had changed him in such a way? True, a lot had happened since that day, but still.

It had taken some time but slowly that young boy had captured his heart. A heart he did not know he had. No, come to think of it, it had happened quickly. Only two days after sharing his bed, the boy had asked that his little brother be taken from Red's clutches. He had not suffered too much yet, and he was too small to be of any interest to Roy, so he kept him as nothing more than a pet to please the boy he had become attached to. A feeling he had never known since the epidemic or before, whatever the sex or age of the person he had been with.

Young Devon had adapted remarkably fast, he did not resist or show any disgust that first night accepting all that had been demanded. Roy did not treat his pretties too kindly. In fact, he thought you had to show them, from the start, what their place was in this new world. The boy had a lovely and very tight ass that Roy had resolved to ravage as soon as they reached the bed. It had been delightful for him, painful for the kid, like any of the many previous deflowers he had performed. There had been nothing special or out of the ordinary.

After that first round, his other pretties had joined them for their evening orgy, by then, Roy had decided it would be Maggie's last–the boy was very much to his taste.

The face of that special boy had stayed in Roy's mind all along and was still there in the morning. The man had found a resilience in that child even if he had been submissive and had showed his pain like any other. Neary believed he had probably concluded that any escape attempt was futile and dangerous, both for himself and for his brother: that it was safer to comply and wait for an opportunity, or a better outcome. Or perhaps it was all in the man's imagination, he simply liked the kid. Some things did happen without reason.

Then there had been the attack. It had been unlike anything they'd experienced before. For a moment, Roy had thought they would lose it. Ferals had come in waves, from several directions and in an organized way, not like a bunch of crazies, as was usually the case. Twice they had almost reached the vehicles perimeter, a few getting inside even. By the time it was over, Roy and his men realized they had spent almost all of their ammunition.

For the first time he had felt vulnerable and for good reasons.

In the beginning, they all assumed they would die. It was the end of the world, they would not last more than a few weeks, nothing was important anymore. They had enjoyed a wild ride across the country and nothing could stop them. There had been no limit to what they could do; they had been kings of the world. Then the flu had dried up, there had been no one to give to the ferals in their games, except the kids they found and other captives. They now dared to hope that they might survive.

The ferals had been an inconvenience, nothing more, even a source of entertainment. When the sun had risen that morning and he had seen the sea of corpses that surrounded them, it sent shivers down his spine. Two of the baits, miraculously, had survived the assault. In other circumstances, they would have been left behind to die, but this time they were set free, like the other kids still in the mall. The Ravagers did not linger, they were low on ammunition and could not risk another attack. So they took to the direction of Charleston and the many military bases there, in search of better equipment and more ammunition. With luck, on the way they would find an abandoned military convoy or National Guard center. It had happened before.

They were not kings of the world anymore but one fish in the pond, a big one, certainly, but they had to take some precautions if they wanted to prevail and to survive. Death was not a sure thing anymore but staying alive was not a given one either.

Now was not the moment to lose your edge. Should he get rid of this kid? That could be best but that would certainly be a waste, Roy thought, as he gave a last pelvic thrust and shot his load in Devon's hot canal.

***

Louise and the boys made good progress through the woods. On this second day of their track, things would change.

Now, near the edge of town they had to be much more cautious. They were passing buildings, any of which might hold an unseen menace, they could also be seen from further away and risked having their retreat cut off if they went too far into town. Louise had them stop often, pulling out her binoculars to check their surroundings.

However, their first encounter with danger was of an unexpected nature. The horses had been restless; a sign Louise had no difficulty in interpreting. Something was amiss; she looked around, searching for a defensive position or a refuge that would put them out of reach of any potential threat.

"Hurry up boys, let's get to that 7 Eleven there."

As she spoke, the first barks could be heard and soon a pack of famished dogs were seen, coming at them from a side street on the left.

They reached the small drugstore, quickly dismounted, and entered with the horses, just in time, blocking the doors behind them, with some of the dogs at full run, and unable to stop, hitting the doors in frustration.

"An aggressive bunch. Walt, check that there is no other way they can get in, a window, a side door, anything."

The teen soon returned. There was no breach, which might let the dogs in. At the same time, Louise and the boys were stuck there. The pack did not seem ready to leave them alone, they were still gathered around the store, growling and snarling. They settled in to wait.

"We have to do something," said Louise, after an hour of standoff. "We can't stay here all day. Bob, you'll have to use your crossbow. Let's avoid making any unnecessary noise."

"You want me to shoot the dogs? I don't think Johnny would like that."

"Can you do it?"

"Sure, what choice do we have?"

"I think killing two or three should be enough, starting with the leader, the black scraggy big one on the left side of the door."

"I see it. Do I shoot at it through the door?"

"No, let's try to find a window or get onto the roof. I'll go with you."

It took them a few minutes to get there, but once on the roof it was easy for Bob. In no time, three of the dogs lay dead in front of the store. The others having learned their lesson were soon gone, taking the carcasses with them to feast on.

Louise went down again and tentatively opened the store's double doors.

"I think the way is clear, now. Let's move on."

Weapons ready, they left the area, still following the general direction the ferals had come from. The silence around them was somewhat eerie, with empty buildings and houses on each side of the road interspersed by stretches of fallow fields with some trees. Apart from the absence of movement and people, it looked quite normal most of the time, with vehicles parked, no broken windows or evident signs of decay but they knew otherwise, and the stench that came from some of those places was a constant reminder.

They did not talk much.

Brett rode close to Louise, trusting her to tell him what to do and to protect him in case of need. The incident with the pack of dogs had gone as well as they could hope and his concerns had lessened but he was still fidgety on his horse.

Walt and Bob were more relaxed but no less wary. They also had better training and experience, which gave them a clear advantage over Brett. They were also simply happy to be together even if in rather dangerous circumstances. Their relationship had deepened as they came to know each other. To anyone that saw them together it was evident that there was more than friendship between them, they rode close to each other, their legs almost touching, and sometimes when the others were not looking, or so they thought, they held hands for a moment. Louise smiled benevolently at that, nothing escaped her acute awareness and it was a welcome respite from more sinister sights.

"Look at those birds there?" said Brett pointing at the sky, perhaps a mile ahead. They were circling around over the same spot.

"Birds of prey I would say. I'm too far to tell but probably hawks, there must be some carrion they're watching."

"Like in the westerns, never thought I would see that," said Bob. Then slightly louder he bursted out with a broad smile, "DEAD or ALIVE!"

"I dunno, but we are going that way, we will soon see what caught their interest."

Louise was not too keen to get closer. There was a strong possibility that they would not like the sight of what was awaiting them. They were nearing three small condominiums and a cluster of houses that lay on the outskirts of town. Another stretch of forest could be seen a little further on and she was impatient to reach it.

There were indeed many birds in the sky, hawks that she could see now, and probably more on the ground. She took her binoculars repeatedly to try to see what had attracted them, but her view was still blocked by a rise ahead and a few buildings. Her gut feeling was not good.

"It's straight in our path," said Walt.

"Yes, let's detour. I prefer to know what it is before getting to it. They veered to their left, going up a steep incline that would soon give them a good vantage point to view the place.

Before they had seen anything though, the wind changed and the stench hit them.

"That's what I feared, the smell of death."

"Perhaps we should just go around it," suggested Brett.

"Yes, that's probably what we'll do, no need to go through that."

Five minutes later, Louise took out her binoculars one more time, first she scanned all around them to make sure there was no menace, and then brought her full attention to what lay ahead. It was easy to deduce that there had been a community there organized around the three small condominiums and a cluster of single homes, the forest started a few yards from the last house. You could clearly see guard posts and barricades on most of the access roads.

There were bodies everywhere and from the smell of it, they could have been lying there, under the sun, two or three days already. Louise could piece together the scenario quite easily from what she saw.

A large group of ferals had attacked from the west. She assessed that over a hundred had been killed, and were lying on the ground, but it had not been enough. Either the occupants had fought until they died or they had escaped, at least some of them. She rather hoped for the second option, there were still a few vehicles there, so why not flee if they had the means to do it. There was also a pickup truck lying overturned on the way out. The driver had probably hit a ditch while trying to flee. She could see a few children's bodies close by. Certainly not all of them had made it. She could see clearly the path the ferals had followed: the ground was trampled as if it had been a herd of elephants. It meant there had been hundreds of them perhaps thousands. Most of the bodies lay on that path. She surmised there had also been a large element of surprise which was unexpected if you considered the number of the attackers. Perhaps it had been at night or early morning, which was ominous, since that meant that the assault might have been planned and not an unexpected encounter with a large wandering pack of ferals.

It reinforced their previous theory of scouts, sent to find and evaluate communities all around, for later eradication. The reasons for that seemed absurd, why would the ferals want to eliminate the remaining unaffected humans, but you had to accept the obvious conclusion given by what she had observed so far.

"I think we've seen enough, there's nothing we can do here. One more reason for us to obtain the information we need to ensure this will never happen to Saint Xavier."

"How many of them, do you think?" asked Walt.

"The ferals?"

"No, the people, there."

"Difficult to tell, I would say perhaps over a hundred."

"And they all died?" questioned Brett with a worried look.

"No, in fact, I think some of them escaped. The forest resumes right after the last houses in sight. Let's go there. I'll feel much better once we're back under its cover."

Indeed the forest was there and welcoming a few hundred yards away, enveloping the community on two sides.

"What if the ferals were hiding in there?" asked Brett. "Perhaps we should use the drone to check it first?" The boy wanted to show that he could help.

"You're quite right, Brett, let's do that."

Five minutes later, it was flying and sending images to the boy's laptop. Louise indicated to Brett the path she planned to follow and the drone explored that area for a few minutes with no ferals in sight, but with the canopy of trees, nothing was certain.

"It looks quite safe to me. Bring it back, Brett."

As the drone was almost level with them and about to land, they heard a small voice.

"Here, Melly, we're here!"

The distraction nearly caused Brett to miss the landing but fortunately, the drone was unscathed. As soon as he had recovered it, he saw a small figure running toward them followed by two others.

"Survivors? Stay on the lookout," ordered Louise, herself looking around for other unexpected or undesirable surprises.

But no one else appeared except the three little kids coming towards them. They looked to be in a grubby state.

"Did Melly send you? We've been waiting, waiting for three days now." The kid was staring at each of them in turn as if expecting to see someone he knew. He had stopped a few paces away, the other two catching up.

"Melly? Is that a name? Sorry, she didn't send us, but you sure are lucky we found you. How could you have stayed there all this time?" Louise put her hand to her nose just thinking of the idea of spending three days in that stench. The kid was also quite dirty, his blond hair disheveled, with a desperate and eager demeanor. Under all that dirt, he was probably quite cute, no more than ten, probably younger, like the other two standing just behind him.

"No Melly? I was sure she would come for me. She said she had to save the girls. That the boys needed to give them some time, fight for them. She said she was taking the little ones first. But there was a breach and we got separated from the others. We found a hiding place. Me and Stew, that is. We waited till they were gone…" The boy had deflated as he was talking, as if all his expectations had held him together and he was now unraveling. That Melly was important to him, without a doubt.

"Take your time. You don't have to tell it all at once, you're safe with us now," Louise hesitated slightly before moving forward and taking him in her arms, he definitely smelled very bad but she had to do it. "If we can, we will try to find your Melly but you can't wait here any longer, you'll have to come with us."

"No, we have to wait for her. She said she would not let us down, that she would do her best." The boy had tensed again in Louise's arms in a last ditch effort to salvage his hope, almost ready to fight to free himself from her grasp.

"Calm down, child, what's your name?" She had tightened her hold on him. There was no way she would let him escape her embrace. As he said his name, he relaxed and accepted being rescued by someone who wasn't Melly.

"Will, William."

"Well, William, as soon as we can we'll need to get you cleaned up. You've acquired quite a stink hiding round here these last few days. Do you have any other clothes? "

"Yes, back there." He pointed at one of the buildings.

"I'll go with you and you're friends. Walt, you wait for us here with Bob and Brett. I'll be back shortly. I sure don't intend to linger there more than necessary."

She pulled a tee shirt from her saddlebag that she tied around her neck. She intended to put it over her mouth when she got closer to her destination.

Now what will we do with those three? She thought. We can't take them with us and we can't abandon them. This was one more problem she hadn't expected.

***

It was quite an achievement. The video center was now receiving the images from the ten cameras placed all around the perimeter. The movement detectors were working fine, there was the capacity to monitor over thirty cameras for now and the tech guys were sure to be able to add as many as was needed as well as the drones when in use. It was just a question of code. Everyone was quite satisfied.

Carl was there with Tools who had brought his boy Chandler. Miles, as the instigator of the operation was present, of course, with Stuart, Sun, and Wilson who had worked hard with the help of Ke, it seemed that boy could fix anything and was quite practical. A generator had been dedicated for the power supply, as this project was considered a priority.

"We will need two boys twenty-four hours a day watching those screens," Miles was saying, "and there will be three levels of alerts. Any incident will be noted and I'll get a report every morning. Any suspected menace will send a silent alarm to the emergency unit and myself and I will decide if it needs to go to the next level or not, finally an evident threat to the school will trigger a general alarm, with all the able bodied boys to be armed and get to their assigned defense stations."

"Impressive work, indeed," said Carl. "This is truly remarkable. I must congratulate all of you that have participated and done so much so quickly. I think we will all feel much more secure from now on."

"There is still a lot to do, place the next batch of cameras, find the best locations for them, and check that they are functioning as intended. We also need to train the operators, they have to react appropriately so we will still have patrols out there but we will be able to significantly reduce their number."

Miles was glad to see the pride in the eyes of the boys who had contributed. Glancing at Tools and Chandler, he noticed how Tools seemed very protective of the attractive boy keeping him close and touching him often. They made a strange couple and Miles felt an aloofness and frailty there. Raymond was overdoing it and the boy was clearly ill at ease. Chandler's appeal, as was expected, also drew the attention of Carl.

Miles had already too many boys to take care of to think of doing anything to try to catch Chandler's attention or favors even if he certainly would not refuse to spend a night with him if it came up. Carl was another story, it seemed that he was never satiated and did not care if he stepped on someone else's toes. That could be a good thing thought Miles, any enmity between those two could only help his cause.

Tools spoke up.

"I am sure that Chandler, would like to work here, he told me he didn't much like handling guns and weapons training. He's a smart boy and would easily be a reliable recruit for this position."

"I have nothing against it, if he volunteers, but it involves spending many days or nights watching screens. Waiting for something to happen but hoping for nothing, it will not be much fun."

"Seen that way you could be right. What do you say Chandler?"

"I can give it a try. And as you said, I will not be alone."

"You're right. I plan to have over twenty boys monitoring those screens, always two at a time, perhaps each one for four hours a day. Besides this job, they'll still have to follow some classes as soon as they are formalized by Mister Fisher and still do some training to be able to participate in the school defense. If you take the job we will see each other quite often," he added, to tease Tools who smiled and retorted.

"I'll not be far either; my office is just on the other side of the corridor. This will be very convenient."

"Raymond, don't forget he'll have an important task here, you must not come every minute and disturb him. I understand the temptation though," said Carl, ironic. "I might come myself to say hello from time to time."

Tools pulled the boy to him.

"He's mine Carl. Haven't you got enough boys yourself?"

"Don't worry, I've more than enough. But this boy is really special, take good care of him if you don't want to lose him. It's young Matthew I am personally very interested in. Still, no chance that I'll get to know him better, Miles?"

"I fear nothing has changed in that matter, Carl. I doubt it will."

"You never know. We'll see."

"I heard of Ivor's death," said Miles, to change the subject.

"Yes, it's sad. The flu isn't completely over even if we haven't had a new case for quite a while now," answered Carl.

"Have you heard from Max?"

"No, not yet. I believe he left the school with the body to bury him somewhere."

"Why? He could have done it here."

"No idea, they had strong ties, perhaps he wanted a moment alone with the body. Those Russians are very emotional. Anyway, your worries are over and no one got hurt."

"What about those two last boys he brought along?"

"You got the two brothers already, those I'll keep for myself; they'll serve the same function as they did for Ivor."

"You probably guessed that I disapprove but that's acceptable and you're the headmaster."

Carl beamed at those words, was Dunn finally accepting his leadership and starting to abandon his old-fashioned principles?

"Yes, Miles you need to accept that the rules have changed, we are at the top of the food chain now: we decide what is right and wrong. We won't agree on everything but you will come to see things my way in a very short while, I'm sure. It's in the best interest of everyone at the school."

"I'll try and find Max. Now that Ivor's gone, we need make use of him; see how we can work well together. He could be of great value in the present situation."

"I would wait till tomorrow, let him mourn in peace but you're right we need to find a role for him. I'll go and give him our condolences. Tools, why don't you come with me and tell me everything about you and Chandler along the way?"

Miles watched them leave. It was obvious that Carl wanted to see Max first and would try to convince him to support his policies. Carl had the advantage of knowing the man already. Miles had to think of a way to bring Max over to their own side or at least to have a neutral position. It would not be easy.

"Well, boys, you've had your congratulations but there's still work to do, let's get to it. And I've got to draw up a list of boys to put in charge of our new video control center."

***

The three little boys were riding on Bob's horse, while Bob rode with Walt to their mutual satisfaction.

Louise and the others kept upwind of the foul smelling trio.

"We have to find a safe place we can leave them for a day or two and get them clean. We'll pick them up on the way back," she told Walt in an aside.

"You want to leave them alone?"

"They've been alone three days already. Besides I need all of you on this mission and if one of us stays behind it endangers all of us."

"And if we don't come back?" said Bob.

"They'll have to cope alone but it will not happen." Louise believed in what she said.

"We could leave Brett behind," said Walt.

"No, we need him for the drone. I'm sure we're getting closer to our destination, which is where the drone can make a big difference. The critical part on this journey is coming up.

What William told them later, matched what Louise had deduced. The attack had occurred at first light; the defenders were armed and well organized. They fought back, but they were almost immediately overrun by the ferals' sheer numbers. Melanie, Melly, as William called her, who was in charge, decided to evacuate and save as many as possible, giving priority to the girls. It seemed she had realized how few were left and how precious they had become for their future. The first vehicles had left with them and a few little ones. It had been a mix of frenzy and confusion with the young woman running here and there trying to bring some order to the chaos. William had not wanted to be separated from her and refused to go. In the confusion, he had lost her. With ferals all around, he ran and found a place to hide. For hours, while hidden, he heard the desperate screams of those the ferals had found, not daring to emerge until the following morning.

"Here, let's try that one," announced Louise, as they were nearing a small, secluded, house at the border of the forest. There was no car in front, and it appeared intact and deserted.

After entering with caution and securing it, Louise and Walt called the others. She did not want to leave the horses outside so they moved the furniture and put them in the living room to the delight of the three foul smelling boys who found it quite funny.

"Boys, it's time to wash. Get rid of your clothes and put on the clean ones. We're lucky, there's running water in the bathroom. Can you do it yourselves or do you need help?"

"Of course we can do it, we're not babies anymore," replied an indignant William.

"Very well, hurry up, kids, we'll need to have a serious talk when you're done. Walt, please check on them and see that they do a proper job of it."

"Will do," answered the young man.

Brett, eyes closed, was resting on the couch oblivious of the horses around him; it had already been a long day. Bob was watching him, clearly envious.

"Come on Bob, get some rest too. There's nothing else to do for the moment."

Delicately pushing aside Brett's feet, the boy found a place on the couch and soon both of them were half-asleep, head to tail.

"Yuck, it's cold! She heard the protest, coming from the bathroom not far away with the noise of running water.

"What did you expect?" replied Walt gently. "Get in, all three of you, we don't have all day, don't skimp on soap either, you definitely need it. I'll check later."

"Should we put on some perfume?" asked one of the boys, who had seen a bottle beside the bathtub.

"Not a good idea. Just wash away the dirt and smell; then get dressed," replied Walt, with a smile in his voice.

Louise went to the window. There was a road in front of the house that more or less followed the forest border, she wondered for the first time if it was safe to enter its cover. Those ferals could be anywhere and in large numbers. If they stumbled on them, they would have close to no warning at all. They would have to use the drone repeatedly and would make slow progress. It was getting late. It would certainly be safer to spend the night in the house and leave early the next morning. She would need to check if there was any food in the house for the three kids, otherwise they would have to share what they had. With luck they would be back to pick them up in a day or two. She felt they had almost reached their goal and would soon have answers to their questions, some of them at least. She also thought they would not be reassuring ones, but they had to know what they were up against. How many ferals could there be? Miles had seen a pack of a few hundred at the farm already. Could there be a thousand, two, more than that? What drove them? How did they organize? What was the sense of it all? If there was one. There were so many questions.

As the boys came out of the bathroom and joined them again, she told them they would spend the night here. She took a bedroom to share with Walt; each one would occupy it in turn when not on watch. She gave the second to William and the other two boys. Bob and Brett would stay on the couch.

After eating what had been found in the house she told everyone to get some sleep while she took the first watch. The house was safe enough and they would take them to Saint Xavier on their return. Melanie, or Melly, as William called her, had not returned for him in three days and he resented it strongly. The woman most probably thought there had been no survivors. There was, of course, another alternative, but Louise did not want to think of it.

***

Tools was upset that evening. He had not liked Fisher's tone mocking him nor his comments on Chandler, even less the way he was looking at the boy at the moment.

"Look at that ripe ass in front of us," Carl had said, pointing at the boy's rump, the buns well defined in clinging gym shorts. "And those shapely, perfect naked legs! Were you finally able to have a good taste of him? No? How can that be? With your knowledge of literature, and with so many words at your disposal, you haven't found the means to possess the brat yet? Give him to me and I'll do it for you, it'll be my pleasure."

"I'm doing fine, don't worry about me. I don't mind if it takes time. I told you already, Chandler is mine and no one else's."

"Touchy, I see. Remember, without me, you'd still be reading books instead of fucking boys–boys that I provided. You could at least reciprocate. This Chandler of yours is a real beauty, he is smart too; both don't always go together."

"This one, I will not share."

"If you say so. Anyway, he's not really yours yet. Why didn't you use coercion like I told you? Now everything is possible for us. There are no consequences."

"No, I prefer to let him come to me, as frustrating as it can be."

"It's your choice. I've done it for years. Their feelings no longer matter."

Tools did not tell him that you could have it both ways, as he had experienced at the farm, Jekyll and Hyde: the best of both worlds. Is that what he had become? There was a lot of Hyde in his Jekyll and vice versa. He thought he needed it all to find a balance. Despite what Carl had told him repeatedly, he could not shake off his feelings of shame and horror at his cravings. Of course, they had always been there but hidden. He had been very careful not to question his lack of apparent sexuality, nor why he had chosen exclusively boys schools since he had left college.

One part of him wanted to cling to that feeling of altruism that he experienced during all those years of teaching, sharing his knowledge, giving his guidance, and receiving the esteem and sometimes admiration of many of his students and peers. Perhaps some affection too but he had always been careful to be wary of that. The perfect relationship he had known with Chandler and others before him, devoid of any hidden motive.

Now it was a completely different story, the emergence of his deviant sexuality had broken him and given birth to a wrath against those he had cared for. Now a part of him wanted to hurt them, make them feel the pain he was going through. He knew it was stupid to consider the boys responsible for what he had become, or rather, what had always been his true nature, still that was how he experienced it. His ambivalence was at its peak with Chandler, whose love and body he craved while at the same time wanting to defile, humiliate, and hurt.

He hoped that if he succeeded in winning his love, true love, those desires to rape and hurt would go and the harmony would return. Wishful thinking? Probably. It was lust, not love, which drove him, notably after his recent behavior with the boy, despite last night's breakthrough. Worse still, the shame and arousal associated with his desire for boys was amplified by his acts of rape and cruelty.

The consequence of it all was that for now, he was stuck with Fisher, Greg, and their likes when a few weeks ago he would have sided with Dunn. He did not think what he had done to those farm boys and their mother, the other day, and planned on doing again with them or others later, would sit very well with the man.

Just thinking about it, he was rock hard as his eyes fell on Chandler's long naked legs following them to his juicy butt. He would need some release again, and soon.

Fisher was still talking, essentially boasting about his cleverness in setting up the club and enjoying boys for all those years.

"But this is over now, a new era is upon us where we can give vent to our wildest dreams and Max could be a major asset to achieve that. I fear that Dunn doesn't have the nerve for it."

Suddenly, Raymond wondered if it was a good idea to bring Chandler with him to meet Max. Nothing stopped Carl and if Max fancied the boy, he would have no scruples in offering Chand to him.

Carl's instincts were sharp, he had seen in the man's eyes his sudden doubt and concern. "Don't worry, Raymond, your boy is safe with Max. Way too young for him. He was himself Ivor's boy some years ago. He only likes men."

"What can you offer him?"

"We can offer him a goal in life. A continuity with what he did for Ivor. Most people don't like to change; they always want to keep doing what they've learned from the start. Furthermore, to my knowledge he has nowhere else to go. He is our alternative to Dunn in case we can't reach a compromise."

"Yes, Dunn has been opposing you, he sees our future differently."

"He may be right, on a tactical level, but not on a political one. Opening our gates, welcoming every survivor we meet, would help us get stronger. But it would also dilute our identity, putting at risk our authority and the sexual freedoms I've tried to favor. This is not going to happen, I can assure you."

"What you say makes a lot of sense."

"I think so. Now we will see what Max makes of it."

***

The small apartment felt empty without the boys and Ivor, mostly Ivor, the boys were of no importance, except perhaps for that Milo kid, he had made a real difference those last days.

Max could not accept yet that Ivor was gone. His life felt as empty as the apartment. It was without purpose. He told himself that Ivor had not really died, he had turned feral, and that was noticeably different. One day he might see him again. Perhaps in weeks or months, the disease would disappear and he would be restored to his former self. That seemed impossible right now but no more than what had been happening with the flu and its consequences. So, why not?

What should he do now? Nothing really held his interest anymore. He had to pull himself together, Ivor would have insisted on that. Their roles had been slightly reversed after the coming of the flu but Ivor's inner strength had persisted to the end. He had to shake off that feeling of inadequacy, build himself a new life without Ivor. Let his old survival instincts kick in.

He was in an ideal mood for Carl when he knocked on the door. After all, a large part of his job had been the buying and training of boys for sex, not the most moral or law-abiding activity, that, and taking care of all the security issues. Carl was not asking for anything else.

Their discussion had been straightforward, with the terms clearly stipulated. Carl neglected no aspect of Max's needs in exchange for his services.

"I'm sure you'll find a partner here. Statistically there must be some gay boys among the upper grades around, they should be old enough for you, you just need to find them," he added, when leaving.

Max wondered why he had come with Tools and the boy. He saw no reason for that. Perhaps it was to show that the school was behind him? Well, it did not really matter.

That job would do for now. He would see later how he could take better advantage of his position.

He had been warned about Dunn again. That did not surprise him. He had felt a softness in the guy, which was incompatible with the task ahead.

NEXT PART