by S. M. Shade
“She’s a star.”
“Whenever you feel sad you can look at the stars and know she’s there, even if you can’t see her.”
“Mason too? And Daddy Tim?”
“Everyone, baby.”
“Stardust.” He smiles up at me.
“Stardust.” I hug him.
Joseph and Airen are sitting on the porch when I follow Walker inside. He runs past them. “I’m going to watch cartoons!”
Joseph and Airen stare at me. “Now who’s eavesdropping?” I mumble. They continue to watch me, closely. “Joseph, I’m sorry if that wasn’t what you had in mind. I don’t believe in the whole heaven and hell story, and I didn’t think that would help.”
“Abby.” He chokes up. “That was beautiful. Is that really what you believe?”
“I believe in science, and what can be shown to be true through evidence or proof. That was a simplified version.”
Joseph hugs me. “It was a wonderful way to explain it to him. Thank you.”
Abraham
It’s time to test them, Lord. I’ve prayed for hours, and I can’t find a less deplorable way to go about it. Diane and Jennifer will have to sacrifice their modesty for a short while. I’ve decided to use the cane on them if they aren’t successful in proving their heterosexuality. Micah may pass, but Troy is the one I intend to watch.
Micah continues to be a thorn in my side. I’ve made him hold a stack of bricks for twenty-four hours. I forced him and Troy to stand with their arms bound above their heads for two days with no food and water so they could watch the other suffer. I left him overnight in the unheated shed wearing only a short sleeve shirt and shorts.
Still, he doesn’t bow. I regret to say he may not make it, though I will try to do my best. Perhaps he is un-teachable. Troy is compliant and obedient, although a bit mouthy. He’d be a much better candidate if he wasn’t a deviant. Like those people who prefer sex with children, homosexuals are so hard to change. Your will be done, Lord, either way. Your will be done.
Troy
Cole informs me it’s the second day of March when I persist in asking him how long we have been here. If he isn’t lying just to screw with me, and that’s a definite possibility being the prick he is, then we’ve been locked up for an entire month. More than enough time to realize how truly insane these people are and come to the devastating conclusion we’ll most likely die here.
Our bodies have healed from the rock salt incident, although our knees bear the scars. I’ve been lucky that Abraham has ignored me for the most part. I assume it’s because he considers me to be the obedient one. He has included me in some of Micah’s punishments to try to get him to acquiesce, but he has no idea the extent of Mic’s stubbornness. I hate every second of this, but I can’t forget the pain of the rock salt or the two days without water, and I don’t want to die. It seems like a smart choice to play along until we can escape.
Micah disagrees. He fights them every step of the way while they dream up new methods to punish him. I’ve tried to talk sense to him and make him realize he can’t beat them, but he’s incredibly stubborn.
“They aren’t going to control me,” he snaps, as I plead for the hundredth time for him to kneel when I hear them unchaining the doors. They come every day with our lessons. Bible quotes we’re forced to memorize and recite, what would you do scenarios to test our values, and, of course, prayers. It appears they have something different in mind for us today.
“It’s time for a test,” Abraham announces. I control the urge to inform him my algebra and grammar are sub-par. Apparently, my smart mouth can be controlled by torture.
“What bullshit are you planning now?” Micah demands. He stands, arms crossed, glaring at Abraham while Jennifer and I kneel silently.
“I think you may enjoy this, Micah, if my instincts are correct. I’m afraid Troy may find it unpleasant, but I’m cautiously optimistic.”
Oh shit. What is he going to do to me now?
“Leave him alone, you fucking lunatic.”
“Mic, please don’t. He’ll kill you,” I whisper.
“It’s God’s will, Micah, and someday you’ll understand.”
“Do you realize you’re completely batshit? I mean really? I’ve always wondered if crazy people recognize they’re crazy.”
“Take him to the house,” Abraham commands.
Micah is dragged off by Cole and Steve, still cursing. The last thing I hear is an accusation of what they do to each other during bible study.
“You may both rise,” Abraham allows.
This man is arrogance personified. I could suffocate in the waves of narcissism rolling off of his oily, smiling face. “Jennifer, I’ve been very pleased with your progress, and I’m offering you a chance to prove your dedication to God by helping me to test Troy’s sexuality.”
What! Jennifer’s eyes widen, and she pales as she whispers, “How?”
“Don’t fear, my child. Sex before marriage is a sin, and I’d not ask that of you. The Lord only requires you become slightly intimate, so we can assess Troy’s reaction,” he explains with a creepy smile.
He can’t be serious. I glance at Jennifer’s pink face. “Don’t worry, I’m not doing this,” I swear to her.
“You will obey. I’ll see you’re both whipped if either of you refuse.”
“What do I have to do?” she whispers, defeated.
“Remove your clothes, down to your undergarments. You may do whatever is necessary to encourage Troy to become aroused. You may use one of the stalls. I’ll be waiting out here to bear witness to the outcome.”
“You want to see me get a hard on, and I’m the homosexual?”
“One has to perform unpleasant and distasteful acts for the Lord when he’s called upon to do so.”
Jennifer grasps my hand and forces a smile. “It’s okay, Troy. I don’t mind.”
“I’m so sorry,” I murmur, after we are alone in the horse stall.
“It’s not your fault. I can’t bear to be whipped. We have to do as he says.” We turn our backs to each other and undress, throwing our clothes out as instructed. I haven’t kissed a girl since the eighth grade, and I knew then that it wasn’t for me.
We lie in the hay and kiss tentatively. Increasing the intensity, we wrap ourselves around each other. She’s touching me everywhere, trying her best to get a reaction out of me, but all I can think about is how wrong this is, and what an asshole I am to do this to her. After twenty minutes or so, Abraham knocks on the stall door.
“That will be enough, Jennifer.”
“I’m sorry,” she sobs.
“Hey, this isn’t your fault. I don’t think anyone in this situation could...” I trail off. She nods as we get dressed.
“Remain where you are, Troy. Jennifer, well done my dear, you may leave us and resume your lessons.” It’s obvious I’ve failed his little test. “Troy, are you ready to confess that you’re a sodomite?” he asks sharply.
I’ve been called plenty of gay slurs in my life, but that’s a new one. “No, I’m not gay. Do you think you could get excited over a girl who’s forced to be with you while a guy waits to stare at your junk?” I demand, glaring at him.
His face remains impassive. “I have another test in mind for you.” He produces a portable DVD player and gestures for me to sit.
“Got a copy of Spartacus?” I ask wryly.
He chuckles. “You’re close.” It’s porn...man on man porn.
It’s my turn to laugh. “I suppose the point this time is to refrain from enjoying it?”
“Correct. I’ll be checking on you periodically, and I’d better see your eyes on that screen or you and Jennifer will suffer the consequences.”
I watch the screen, and the guys are gifted, I’ll give them that. Does he really think being imprisoned, threatened, and forced to watch porn is going to get me horny? After a few minutes, he peeks over the door, and I wave at him. “Limp as a noodle, no worries,” I chirp.
This is so humiliating. I have to joke and make light of it, or I’m going to break. Damn, what will he do if I fail this test? I can only imagine the horror he’s dreamed up this time, or maybe he’ll just murder me outright.
Then it happens. Apparently, if you think “don’t get hard” long enough, the opposite will occur. It’s like trying not to laugh at a funeral. I’m not turned on in the slightest. I’m terrified. I close my eyes and try to picture disgusting things. The arrogant prick picks that moment to peer over the stall door.
“Stand up! Now!” he shouts when I attempt to stall. I’m wearing boxer briefs, and there’s no way to hide it. A satisfied smile spreads across his face. “Ready to confess?”
“No.”
“Have it your way. You may get dressed.” Seconds later, the familiar rattle of chains signals his departure. Micah is sitting on his cot when I return, but Jennifer is missing.
“What happened?” I ask.
“I made out with Diane. They were going to whip her if I didn’t. Then they forced me to watch gay porn. They wouldn’t even let me have popcorn.”
“Same here, but with Jennifer. I take it you passed their test?”
“With the blue balls to prove it. You?”
“I believe I failed spectacularly.”
“We have to get the fuck out of here.” Micah sighs.
“I’m open to suggestions.”
“I’ll let you know.” I settle down to read and wait for the second shoe to drop. I don’t have to wait long.
Abraham returns with Cole and Steve that evening. “Cole, take Micah for a walk around the grounds. Tie his hands first and take the taser with you.” It appears punishing Micah isn’t the entertainment for the evening, however. I’m the main attraction.
“Strip,” Abraham commands. “All of it.”
As soon as I’m naked, my hands are tied again, this time above my head.
“You’re a sodomite, an abomination in the eyes of our Lord. You’ll change your ways. God has sent me to save you from yourself.”
He produces a long, skinny wooden stick and grins wickedly. “This is a cane, with every lash I give you I want you to think about your depravity and pray for forgiveness.”
Oh fuck. This is going to hurt. I’m being caned for being gay. I’m back in the Dark Ages. I try to ready myself as the cane falls viciously across my back, but there’s no preparing for this. It’s so much worse than I feared. It feels as if the skin is being flayed off, peeled away in burning strips. It falls again and again on my back, my ass, and my thighs. The pain is excruciating, indescribable. Overlapping strikes assure not an inch of skin is overlooked, and the sharp scent of blood soon follows the pattering of drops that rain on the wooden floor.
I scream with every lash, bawling and pleading with him to stop. I’d give anything, promise them anything. Finally, I slip into unconsciousness, hoping never to return.
When I wake, lying on my stomach on my cot, Micah is beside me. “Don’t move,” he orders, his voice strained and husky. “The doctor gave me some ointment to prevent an infection. I’m sorry if I hurt you, but we have to apply it.”
“An infection would be like hitting the lottery, Mic. Just let me die.”
“Don’t,” he warns. “I’ll kill them for doing this to you, Troy.”
“Does it look as bad as it feels? Because I feel like screaming.”
“Make all the noise you need to, man. It looks terrible, and you’re going to have some bad scars.”
“Don’t sugarcoat it.” As he’s applying the ointment, I slip into the darkness again.
CHAPTER SEVEN
It’s been a week since the burial, and we’re still trying to process what’s happened. Everyone has been so subdued. In contrast, the weather has been beautiful. It should be raining, dark, and dreary to mirror the melancholy settled into our hearts. It’s the first week of September, and the leaves are beginning to lighten, but it will be weeks before they change. Fall has always been my favorite time of year. It’s not too hot or too cold, and the woods are bursting with color.
We are in need of supplies to can and preserve the vegetables we’ve grown. We have had a good summer. I’m happy with what we’ve managed to grow our first year even if it’s going to be a lot of work to preserve it all. I suggest we take a trip to get supplies and to get the kids out of the house. Perhaps it will cheer them up a bit.
“Can we go to a park? I want to swing!” Walker pipes up. It’s good to see him excited.
“There’s a playground down the street from the mall in Paducah,” Airen suggests.
“I’d like to go to the mall,” Jayla says.
“Tomorrow morning.” Airen kisses her on top of the head and tickles Walker until he giggles. I’m a little surprised he agreed so quickly when he’s usually paranoid about any of us going anywhere.
Joseph, instead, raises concerns about the mall. “It’s a large public place, and there could be bodies.”
“I don’t think people went to the mall when they were sick and dying. Wouldn’t the stores have closed once the power went out?” I ask.
“Yes, but don’t you remember all the looters that were running wild? The police and the National Guard shot thousands of people before the sickness overtook them as well.” He’s got a point. “It’s been a year and a half, and I don’t know how bad a corpse will look after that long, but I don’t want Walker to see.”
“You can keep Walker at the park, and we’ll take Carson and Jayla into the mall,” Airen suggests. “I hate it, but this is a part of life they’ll have to adjust to, coming across remains. We’ll try to shield them from the worst of it.”
“Sounds like a plan,” I agree.
I haven’t had the heart to clean out Sara’s room, but we really need to let Walker move back into it. Joseph informs me and Airen that Walker can hear us through the wall. I gaze at him, puzzled, and he smiles a wide, dimple laden smile. “He can hear you having sex,” he elaborates.
Oh shit. I really try to keep quiet. My cheeks heat up. “Sorry,” I whisper, mortified.
“It’s no problem. We just need to put him back into his old room.”
“So, then...you can hear?” I ask tentatively.
“Everything,” he replies in a sultry voice, winking at me while I pray for the floor to open up and swallow me.
Of course, Airen thinks it’s funny. “Maybe you can learn a few things.”
“Airen! It’s your fault!”
He flashes a sexy, carnal smile. “Damn right it is.”
“Don’t worry about it, Abby. It gives me wonderful dreams,” Joseph teases, enjoying my embarrassment.
“Now that I know I have an audience, I’ll step up my game,” Airen says with a smirk. He’s having such fun with this.
“You’re both jerks. I’m going to clean out Sara’s room.” Their laughter follows me down the hall.
Mandy’s side of the room has long ago been stripped and cleaned, but Sara’s is just as she left it. I strip the bed and add the sheets and pillowcases to the hamper. It shatters my heart to see the pictures on her wall. I remove them carefully, placing them in a box with her stuffed cow and her other belongings. Airen comes in as I’m remaking the beds.
“Are you okay?” He sits on the edge of the bed and flips through her pictures.
“I’m fine.”
“I don’t understand why she did it,” he says.
“It was too much for her. We have no idea what she went through before we met her.”
“Still, suicide...I could never,” he declares. His brow furrows, a pensive look settling over his face, as if he’s trying to solve all of life’s mysteries at once.
“You’ve never considered it? Not even for a second?”
He stares at me in astonishment. “Of course not. You have?”
I shrug and return to packing. I don’t want to get drawn into this conversation. When I look up, he’s staring at me intently, his gaze burning into me. “I don’t want to t
alk about this,” I state firmly. Reaching past me, he pushes the bedroom door closed. “Airen!”
“Do you still think about it?”
“No!”
“Would you tell me if you did?” He places his hands on my shoulders, and his eyes darken when I hesitate.
“I don’t know,” I reply honestly. “But I’m not suicidal. I’m happier than I’ve ever been.”
He appears relieved as he pulls me down on the bed to sit beside him. “Why did you consider it before? How long ago did you feel that way?”
I sigh. “I really don’t want to talk about this,” I repeat, looking at the floor. He places his finger under my chin and tilts my head up until I look at him.
“Deepest darkest secrets, Abby,” he whispers.
I sigh again. How did I get conned into this confession? So far all the deep, dark secrets have come from me. “There were times when I had trouble finding something to live for,” I admit. “I was alone, and I told you I’ve never had anyone before Carson and you.”
“What did you live for before Carson?”
He takes my hand in his, rubbing my knuckles softly with his thumb. His face softens, and I hate the look of pity he gives me. “Honestly? Fun. You wouldn’t have liked me. I was a partier. I drank, smoked weed, hung out with the wrong type of people. It was totally hedonistic. I wasn’t exactly suicidal. Let’s just say I didn’t look both ways before crossing the street. I didn’t give a shit one way or the other.”
“Still, you had boyfriends, didn’t they...?”
I scoff, interrupting him. “Airen, I had guys who would offer to fuck me if I promised not to tell anyone, like they were throwing a dog a bone. Pun intended.” I give him a small smile, and he stares back at me, stone-faced. He wants the truth. I’m going to give it to him, and hopefully he’ll stop asking. “There was one who would fuck me, but wouldn’t kiss me, as if I were a hooker, a whore. Until Jon, I didn’t have a real relationship. One guy, named Patrick, I know cared about me, but he had a hard time hiding it, and was terrified people would find out. He was so ashamed, I put an end to it because I loved him and knew we couldn’t hide the relationship much longer. He would’ve been devastated if our friends had found out.”
