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Someone To Kiss My Scars: A Teen Thriller

Page 21

by Brooke Skipstone


  Why? Because the increasing levels of murder, assault, abuse, oppression, and especially the destruction of fetuses through abortion and unhealthy living demanded change. Reproduction was now a lab procedure. Physical sexual differences and the act of sex were no longer necessary. Most leaders and citizens had acquiesced to genetic manipulation for them and future generations. Every Tremarian now had similar body parts. True equality had been achieved. They were no longer controlled by animalistic urges, which inevitably led to pornography, sex trafficking, prostitution, and beyond. They were no longer slaves to orgasm.

  But the Dumarians had resisted. Their country provided a haven for those still intoxicated by sexuality. Some Tremarians had defected simply to engage in all sorts of hedonistic pleasures with Dumarian males and females.

  The Keen knew that Dumaria’s existence would eventually erode Tremarian dominance. Too many people could not resist engaging in sex if offered the opportunity.

  After years of war, the Dumarian population had been decimated and isolated into vagabonds like this woman and boy.

  But some believed sizable Dumarian groups still thrived in secret places, possibly underground or in caves.

  “You cannot escape,” shouted the Tre leader. “You must surrender or be killed.” The squadron lifted their weapons, their tips glowing with a swirling white ball of energy, filling the air with an electric hum. Each soldier’s head was shaved on one side, while the other side sported long hair tied in a braid.

  The woman and son stopped and faced the soldiers, their backs to the abyss, long blonde hair whipping behind them in the wind.

  Now that she stood still, her pregnancy was obvious.

  “Open your robes!” commanded the Tre leader.

  The woman smiled. “Certainly.” She then untied the sash at her waist, revealing her nakedness.

  Many in the squad gasped, having never seen a completely nude female body. Some lowered their weapons.

  The Tre leader stood in front of his soldiers. “Focus on your duty!” Every soldier raised their weapons. “Today we kill three for the price of two. Such a bargain!”

  The leader moved closer to the woman and boy. “Is sex so important to you that you would live on the run as animals? Where is the future in that?”

  She held her womb. “He is my future, the Dumarian future.”

  “Where is the father? Or do you even know who he is?”

  “You killed my husband.” The woman reached out for the boy and pulled him to her. “My son is the father.”

  The leader spat in disgust as many of the soldiers yelled their objections.

  The woman laughed. “Each of you would pay much to have taken my son’s place. But none of you have the balls to do it.”

  The boy laughed.

  The woman pulled her son closer. “You will always wonder about the pleasures you have been denied.”

  She laughed and kissed her son’s lips. “We leave you now.”

  They jumped over the edge.

  The leader shouted an order, and several soldiers raced toward the edge. After peering over the side, one looked back toward the leader. “They disappeared.”

  At that moment the air filled with high-pitched screams—wahoohoo, wahoohoo—as a hundred Dumarians ran at the Tremarian soldiers from behind, firing machine guns and automatic rifles. Soon all the Tremarians were killed.

  They had indeed found a Dumarian stronghold.

  Either Hunter’s memories of his past had begun to push into his mind, influencing his Tremarian stories, or the events in his stories had inadvertently touched on his past reality. Or both.

  The story revealed no revulsion toward incest by the mother and son, only by the genderless soldiers. Was that because this mother and son had been “forced” into this activity by the destruction of Dumarian men by the soldiers? Just like Hunter and his mother had been “forced” by his father’s homosexuality and Hunter’s isolation from others his age?

  The first stories Jazz had read presented the Tremarians more favorably, while the Dumarians were the villains, the cause of abuse of women and children, the evil that must be tamed for the world to be more livable. This story confused the issue. The author’s sympathies seemed to lay with the mother and son. They were hunted, they escaped, and their friends killed the enemy.

  And why the pregnancy?

  Did Hunter make his mother pregnant?

  Hunter’s phone vibrated. Jazz pulled it from his back pocket. Eric wanted to know if he could come over.

  “Hey, Hunter.” She turned over and kissed his forehead. “Wake up, sleepyhead. Eric wants you.”

  Hunter moaned and stretched. He sat up. “I am not looking forward to this.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Hunter took his computer into the living room, dreading what he knew would come from Eric’s mind. He’d see the two girls again, maybe others. Hunter heard the front door open and saw Jazz leading Eric into the room.

  “Do either of you want something to drink?” asked Jazz.

  Eric stared at Jazz, obviously looking at her scars. His face paled. “What happened to you?”

  “I used to cut myself, Eric. Most of these are years old. I don’t remember why I did most of them, thanks to Hunter. Do they bother you?”

  He raised his eyes to hers. “Yeah. Who wouldn’t be?”

  “Do you still want me to change clothes at PE? Will you still insult me for sitting in my own sweat during afternoon classes?”

  “No. I’m sorry.” He sat down.

  Jazz folded her arms across her chest. “People look a little different when you know something about their past, don’t they?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Like how hard it was for you to live with your brother.”

  Eric flinched. “You know?” He looked at Hunter, wrinkling his brows.

  “Just a little bit. Enough to know I was wrong about you. Do you still live with him?”

  He shook his head. “No. He’s in jail. Possession of child pornography. His boss caught him at work.”

  “How long ago?”

  He looked to the floor. “About six months.”

  “Are you in possession?” Hunter asked.

  Hesitantly, Eric met Hunter’s eyes. “Not anymore. I got rid of everything last night.”

  “Last night?” asked Jazz.

  Eric’s face turned red. “Yeah. You’d think I’d have done it when Buddy was arrested. But I just couldn’t.”

  “I’m glad you’re trying, Eric.” She squeezed his shoulder when she walked past him.

  “You know what to do,” said Hunter.

  Eric closed his eyes. Like the last time, the pounding started immediately.

  Hunter heard a shower running through his mother’s partially opened door. He opened it and stepped inside. His mother was crying in the bathroom.

  “Mom?”

  “Not now, Hunter!”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I said not now! Please leave.” She cried some more, then the bathroom door slammed shut.

  Hunter went into the hallway and saw a gravel road outside the wall. He walked toward it.

  “Where are we going?” asked Eric from the front seat of Buddy’s truck.

  “To see the two girls you beat off to.” Buddy flicked ash from his cigarette outside the window.

  Eric half smiled. He didn’t remember it quite that way. The image he couldn’t get out of his head was his brother’s face between his legs, and then he had to do the same to Buddy.

  “We’re just going to see them?” asked Eric.

  “And do things with them. I told Wesley about you. You’re their age. He’s gonna make some videos of you and the girls.” Buddy sucked his cigarette then leered at his brother.

  Eric smiled and tried to figure out what his brother was saying. He was sure he was going to be called stupid again. “Doing what?”

  “Whatever Wesley d
ecides. You’re gonna love it.” Buddy chuckled.

  Eric watched as Buddy turned off the Parks Highway onto a gravel road that wound through the trees before dropping down closer to the Nenana River flowing north toward the Tanana. Open areas were covered with tall fireweed, just the top hot pink petals remaining in early-August.

  “They live out here?” asked Eric.

  “Hidden in the trees. Wesley doesn’t want anyone around him. Runs his business from here.”

  “What business?”

  “Pornography. Photos and videos. Plus prostitution for special clients.”

  “Like who?”

  “Like me.”

  Eric’s eyes widened. “For sex with who?”

  “The girls. With either Danielle or Destiny or both.” He laughed. “I like Danielle the best. You can tell me if I’m right after you’re done.”

  Eric felt his stomach quiver. “Done with what?”

  “God, are you that stupid? You’re getting laid, little brother. Several times. And you’ll have a video you can keep forever. You are so lucky. My first was Emily in 8th grade. What a pig!”

  Eric scratched his head to get rid of the tingles on his scalp. He saw the girls in his mind—slender with curly brown hair and pale skin. And so young. How could they have sex with him?

  “Who are the girls?”

  “What d’ya mean, who are they?”

  “Are they Wesley’s kids?”

  “Hell no!” He shot Eric his special look that always meant the same—How can you be that stupid?

  “Then where’d he get them? And why do they want to do . . . all those things?”

  “He bought them two years ago.”

  “Bought?”

  “Yeah. Went to Anchorage. Lots of homeless down there. Found a family with several kids. He told them he’d take care of the girls, that his church would find a good family for them.” He scoffed. “He gave the parents some money to feed themselves and their other kids, then took the girls. People are so stupid.”

  After another hundred yards of potholes and ruts, Buddy pulled up to a gate with a thicket of trees on either side. He reached out to a keypad and pushed a button.

  “Is that you, Buddy?”

  Hunter stopped and looked at Eric who held his face in his hands, his elbows on his knees. He knew that voice. Kind of high pitched for such a mean looking face.

  The memory continued in his mind.

  “Hey, Wesley. I brought my brother.”

  “Great! The girls are cleaning up. Punch in 673.”

  Buddy punched the numbers and heard the lock click on the gate. “Eric, open the gate and shut it after I’m through.”

  Eric did and jumped back into the truck.

  “Crazy coot! He always uses the same three numbers. 673. 376. 736.” Buddy laughed. “Guess he’s not that worried about unexpected intruders. Plus, he’s got video cameras everywhere.”

  The driveway wound through trees for fifty yards then broke into a clearing with a small house covered in weathered plywood on the left, a trampoline in the center, and a metal building on the right.

  A short man with a ponytail, grizzled face, and thick beard hanging below his jaw came out onto the porch. He waved Buddy over.

  “Park behind the metal building. We’re going to shoot outside first.”

  Eric noticed that one of his top front teeth was silver. The man’s body was large above his waist. Below his belt were skinny legs. When he turned around to go back inside, Eric noticed Wesley had no butt.

  Hunter saw Tatiana’s rapist.

  The two brothers left the truck and walked toward the house. Eric noticed a ladder leading up to a two-level platform on the far side of the trampoline.

  “Think they’re going to screw you right there.”

  “On the ladder?”

  “No, stupid. On the trampoline.”

  Eric tried to slow his breathing. He was going to be outside, naked, being filmed with two naked girls? He felt nauseous and had to fight an urge to run back to the truck.

  Buddy opened the door to the house, and they walked inside.

  The first thing Eric noticed was a metal picket cage on the right side of the room. It was 10 x 10 feet, maybe 6 feet tall. Inside the cage he saw the two girls standing naked on a towel spread beneath a five-gallon bucket. They dipped rags into the water then wiped themselves. They took turns washing each other’s backs.

  Eric stared at the girls, unable to close his mouth. They paid no attention to him.

  “Don’t wash your hair,” said Wesley to the girls. “I don’t want it wet during the video.”

  “This here is Eric.” Buddy pushed his brother toward Wesley. Eric reached out his hand to shake.

  “Take off your shirt,” barked Wesley.

  Eric looked back at his brother. “Do what he says.”

  Eric unbuttoned his shirt and took it off. He felt cold and shivered.

  “Now your pants,” growled Wesley. “And your underwear. Want to make sure you don’t look too old.”

  Eric pulled down his underwear, trying not to cry.

  “Shit! Too much hair.” Wesley stomped over to a table, grabbed a pair of scissors, and approached Eric whose eyes nearly popped out of his head when he saw the blades open. He covered his genitals.

  “Move your hands boy. I’m just gonna trim your pubes.”

  Eric stared at his brother, his mouth open, ready to scream. Buddy lit a cigarette and chuckled.

  Wesley brushed clippings off Eric’s skin with a few hard whacks then gazed at his handiwork. “That’ll do for now.”

  Eric picked up his underwear and lifted a foot. “No need, boy. Just stay like you are.”

  Eric looked toward the cage and saw one of the girls sitting on a portable potty—a toilet lid on top of a five-gallon bucket. She wiped herself with toilet paper then stood.

  “Destiny,” barked Wesley, “you need to do that before you bathe. Wash yourself again. Maybe missing dinner will help you remember.”

  She hurried to the water bucket and wiped herself with the rag.

  Eric noticed the pistol Wesley had shoved into his belt against his tailbone.

  Wesley turned toward Buddy. “She’s got no sense at all.”

  Buddy chuckled.

  “Come here, Eric,” commanded Wesley.

  Eric slowly walked to Wesley, holding his hands in front of his genitals.

  “Girls, come see Eric. You’re gonna have a lot of fun with him on the trampoline.”

  They both walked toward the bars. Though they were twins, Danielle was slightly taller and more developed than Destiny. Neither looked well-fed.

  They certainly didn’t look like the happy girls in Buddy’s video. Eric tried to keep his eyes on their faces.

  “Move your hands,” barked Wesley. “Show them what you got.”

  Eric moved his shaking hands away from his genitals.

  “What do you think of the girls, Eric? Turn around girls. Let him see you.”

  With slumped shoulders and dull eyes they turned around.

  “Well?” barked Wesley.

  Eric swallowed. “They look good.”

  “Buddy, are you sure he wants to do this? He don’t seem interested in them at all.”

  Buddy stomped toward his brother and pulled him to the other side of the room.

  “You’d better change your attitude, Eric,” spit Buddy. “Right now. He’s giving me free videos forever if you do this right. You hear me?”

  Eric nodded sharply, his heart racing.

  “If you’re not going to use it,” pointing at his crotch, “I’ll cut it off.”

  “OK. OK.” Eric strode toward the cage and locked eyes with the girls. “You both are real hot. Can’t wait to fuck you.”

  Danielle rolled her eyes and Destiny sneered.

  Wesley pulled a marijuana joint out of his pocket. “Think this funeral needs a little lighteni
ng up.” He lit the joint and gave it to Eric. “Take a toke, boy.”

  Eric took the joint and looked at Buddy.

  “It’s like a cigarette, Eric. Suck in the smoke and hold it in your lungs,” said Buddy. “Such a dumb shit.”

  Eric inhaled and felt the smoke trickle down his throat until he coughed it out.

  Danielle reached through the bars. “Give it.”

  Eric handed her the joint. She sucked on it then gave it to her sister. After a few more rounds, Eric felt dizzy and light-headed.

  “Girls, you need to welcome the young man.”

  They stared at Eric with the most forlorn faces he’d ever seen.

  “Now!” growled Wesley.

  The girls instantly became coy and seductive, puckering their lips. They now looked lewd and vulgar. The change rattled him. Danielle stuck a finger through the bars and slowly curled it back toward her.

  Eric forgot to breathe as he walked toward them in a daze until he felt the cold metal pickets against his skin. Danielle pulled his face toward her and kissed him on the lips. He felt Destiny’s hands rubbing him. His heart pounded as Danielle groaned and kissed him again.

  “Think we’re ready now,” chuckled Wesley. “Let go of him, girls.”

  Danielle and Destiny instantly resumed their sad, tired demeanor.

  Eric backed away from the cage and looked down at his erection.

  Wesley grabbed a key out of a drawer near the sink and a short-barreled rifle from the counter. He shoved the key into the lock on the cage door and opened it. “Let’s go outside,” Wesley ordered.

  Buddy opened the door and waved Eric outside.

  Wesley grabbed his camera off a table by the door and shuffled out toward the trampoline, the girls walking together in front of him.

  “Eric, get up on the trampoline.” Eric walked up the steps and stood on the edge.

  Wesley gave the rifle to Buddy. “This fires bean bags. Use it on the girls if they decide to run.”

  Buddy nodded.

  The girls stood at the bottom of the steps while Wesley climbed up the ladder to the platform and readied his camera.

  “Eric, I want you jumping by yourself, smiling and having fun. Then on my signal you girls run up to the edge, giggling and leering. You are so eager to get to him. Then you get up there with him, jump with him, then have fun with him. Got it? OK. Eric start jumping.”

 

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