“It would be better if you had just told me, instead of…” Davie said under his breath.
Ran stepped away, looking at him. “Too up close and personal? Don’t worry, I have no designs on you. You’re not my type.”
“So I was right,” Davie replied cockily, trying to calm his sudden spurt of lust. “You’ve got a wife and a couple of kids hidden somewhere.”
“Nope. What I meant was I prefer my men to be at least my age.” He chuckled. “Does that answer your question?”
“Like fifty?” he teased.
“David…” Ran grumbled.
Davie froze, then said angrily, “Don’t ever call me that! The only person who used my full name was my dad and he’s not around anymore and if he had been I wouldn’t be here and…” He stuttered to a stop, staring down at the ground.
“Whoa. Sorry. I didn’t know,” Ran replied quietly. “Where is he now?”
Davie waved a hand. “Out there somewhere, or dead for all I know. He left us when I was ten. Walked out one morning and never came back.” He lifted the pistol again, aimed, and fired. The shot hit barely an inch off center on the target. He tried again, channeling all his anger at his father for deserting them into what he was doing—and almost hit the bull’s eye dead on. He pulled the trigger again and discovered the gun was empty. Silently, Ran handed him a full magazine and pointed to the next target. Davie reloaded, took a deep breath, and unloaded the gun on that target. All the shots hit it, three close to center. By then he’d calmed down enough to ask, “Does my being angry make me a better shot?”
“It helped you focus, but I think you can still hit where you want to, or close, now that you’ve gotten used to what you’re doing. You have a good eye, which helps. Take a minute or two to relax then try the third target.”
Davie did, and while he wasn’t quite as accurate now that his anger had abated, he hit it close to where he wanted to, earning him a pat on the back from Ran.
“Let’s quit for the day,” Ran said. “Tomorrow we’ll work with knives.”
Davie nodded, clicked the safety on, and checked to be certain the gun was empty. After he holstered it they returned to Ran’s cabin.
“You did well, for a rank amateur,” Ran said when Davie handed over the pistol.
“Thanks. To be honest, though, I don’t think guns are my thing.”
Ran nodded. “I have the feeling, given that attitude, you’re probably right. You have to…okay, I was going to say ‘love’ but not many people love weapons, no matter what kind they’re using. You need to like the type you choose, and respect what it can do for you. If you’re afraid of it and how it affects you, you’ve made the wrong choice.”
“Makes sense to me,” Davie replied.
“Okay, get out of here. I’ll see you tomorrow after the morning meeting.”
* * * *
When Davie got back to his cabin, Grey greeted him with, “Do you know every inch of the fence, now?”
“Big time.” Davie shook his head. “Trust me; no one gets through or over it without Ran knowing.”
He left it at that, went to change shirts, and then he and Grey made supper. After they ate, Davie got his book, settling down to read when Grey said he was meeting Lon at Fox’s cabin. “Jude’s doing a drawing of the Encampment for Buzz’s birthday and I want to see how it’s coming along.”
Davie almost said he’d come with him, but decided he wasn’t in the mood to be sociable. Thoughts of his father—whom he’d loved as only a son could—and everything that had transpired after the man had deserted his family, killed any desire to be with people right then. He wondered if the fact Ran was close to his father’s age was part of the reason he was attracted to him. Am I seeing him as a father figure? If so, why him and not Maddox, or even Slade? They’re in their thirties, or maybe forties, too. He decided it was because, all told, he’d spent more time with Ran. And he’s damned good eye-candy, even if he isn’t at all interested in me as anything more than a kid he’s training for…for who the hell knows what, right now. I guess I’ll find out when the time comes.
Chapter 6
The weekly meeting Monday morning was short as no one seemed to have any issues they wanted to address. Maddox said he’d be leaving right after the meeting to pick up the new washing machine—which he did.
Ran attended and as soon as it was over he stopped Vin, saying something that elicited a nod in return. Then Ran came over to Davie. “Give it ten minutes, make certain no one’s watching, then come to the back door of my cabin and I’ll let you in.”
Intrigued, Davie did as Ran had asked. When he rapped, the door opened and Ran stepped aside to let him enter. They were in a room barren of any furniture. The floor was covered with the kind of rubber padding Davie had seen in a workout room at a gym he’d gone to a couple of times while in high school.
Vin leaned against the far wall, his arms crossed over his chest. He was wearing black sweatpants, a sleeveless T-shirt, and no shoes.
Davie looked at Ram in question, saying, “I feel overdressed.”
“Take off your shirt and shoes,” Ram replied, which Davie did. “We’re going to skip knives for now and jump straight into hand-to-hand fighting. You’ve done some, Davie, from what you’ve said and what Grey has told us.”
“Some, when I couldn’t avoid it if I wanted to keep a kid safe from punks,” Davie replied.
“So you probably know the best strike zones.”
“Umm, punch them in the stomach, or the throat, or kick them in the groin?”
“Those work but there are other, better ways.” Ran gestured for Vin to join them, and for Davie to move back. “Remember, pull your punches,” he said to Vin with a brief grin.
Vin didn’t wait, immediately going after Ran with a punch to his gut that would have doubled Ran over if it had connected. He feigned that it had, at which point Vin kneed him in the face, again stopping just before contact.
“A knee beats a fist any day,” Ran said after straightening up. “Knees and elbows are probably the most lethal weapons your body has. Like this.” He stepped in, using his knee to hit the inside of Vin’s thigh—lightly. “Or you can use an elbow to the side of the head.” Again, he demonstrated.
“Watch it,” Vin muttered jumping back, rubbing his head when Ran contacted a bit harder than either of them had expected.
“Sorry.” Ran waited until Vin had recovered then rushed him. Vin countered, the heel of his palm grazing Ran’s chin before he pulled it back. “I’d be on the ground, probably out cold, if he’d connected,” Ran said.
“Then there’s the joints,” Vin said, beckoning for Ran to attack. He did, tackling Vin to the ground. Before Vin could counter, Ran slid to the side, grabbed his arm, put his foot under Vin’s chin and placed pressure on Vin’s arm, twisting it at an unnatural angle.
“God damn it, Ran. Ease up,” Vin spat out. The second Ran did, Vin grabbed his hand, bending a finger back. “Any farther and I could break it,” he told Davie. “That would make him, or any attacker, think twice about doing anything more.”
“Now it’s your turn, Davie,” Ran said as he and Vin got to their feet. “Remember, Vin’s a friend, not a foe, so don’t go overboard.”
Davie studied Vin, assessing his stance and where he could attack to best minimize Vin’s defense. Vin returned his gaze unemotionally. Davie lunged, intending to deliver a telling blow to Vin’s solar plexus. Instead, Vin caught hold of his arm and seconds later Davie was flat on his back with Vin’s foot firmly planted on his chest. He grabbed Vin’s ankle in an attempt to force him to remove his foot. It worked, he thought, until Vin dropped down and straddled him, pressing his forearm against Davie’s throat.
“You need to watch for tells,” Vin said with a brief smile. “Your eyes and your tension let me know how and where you were going to strike.”
“He’s right, Davie,” Ran said. “You glanced at his stomach and balled up your fist.”
“So what shoul
d I have done?” Davie asked, feeling more than a bit disconcerted that Vin’s face was so close to his, his legs keeping him prisoner so he couldn’t get up.
“Think what you’re going to do,” Vin replied. He tapped Davie’s forehead. “Think, don’t look. Don’t make a move until the final second.” He straightened, but didn’t get up. “If I’d been the average punk on the street that you used to go after it wouldn’t have mattered. But you don’t know that’ll always be the case.” He stood, offering Davie a hand to get up.
Davie took it, let him pull him to his feet, then twisted Vin’s arm behind his back while kicking behind his knee. He didn’t do it hard. Just enough to let Vin know he could have forced him to the ground. Vin brought his head back and if Davie hadn’t moved, it would have hit his face hard enough to break his nose or even knock him out. He did move, however, having had that happen to him during a fight a couple of months before Slade had gotten him off the streets.
“Not bad,” Vin said. “You might survive after all.”
Ran seconded that, then told them to continue. “You need the practice,” he explained when Davie groaned.
“I need a dozen aspirin and a massage,” Davie said half an hour later. He felt good about himself and how he been able to counter some of Vin’s moves and make a few of his own that might have taken Vin out if this was the real thing, not a training exercise.
“Hold still,” Vin replied and much to Davie’s surprise he stepped behind him, put his hands on his shoulders, and began massaging them. “I’d take you back to my cabin and do this right,” he said softly, “but people might get the wrong idea.”
“Why? Because they’d think something else was going on?”
“Yes.”
“And since you’re straight, you don’t want that to happen.”
There was a low chuckle, then Vin murmured, “I’m not,” at the same time he went to work on a hard knot of muscle in Davie’s arm.
Davie gasped—a combination of surprise at his words and pain before Vin eased up a bit. “Not straight?” he asked moments later.
“Nope.”
“Well…damn.”
“Doesn’t mean we’re going to do anything about it, so get that idea out of your head right now.”
Davie wanted to ask why not but was pretty certain he knew the answer. This was a small group so if he and Vin got involved it would be hard to keep it a secret. He had the feeling he might be the only guy in the Encampment, other than the men who ran it, who knew Vin was gay and that Vin wanted to keep it that way. Why the hell did he tell me? Whatever the reason, he promised himself he wouldn’t break Vin’s confidence. He couldn’t help wondering, however, what it would be like if they did connect on that level.
“All right, you two. Let’s call it quits,” Ran said. “It’s way past lunch time so go get something to eat. Davie, I want you back here at three for a down and dirty lesson on how to defend against a knife attack.”
“Okay.” He put on his shoes, tossed his shirt over his shoulder, and left. As he walked back to the cabin, he wondered if Ran and Vin were discussing his future, whatever that might be. One thing he did know, there was more to Vin’s involvement with the Encampment than anyone was aware of. He was certain of that, just as he was certain that Grey was more than what he seemed beyond his helping Slade find guys who needed to get away from whatever danger they were in.
* * * *
The ‘down and dirty’ learning to defend against an attacker carrying a knife turned out to be exactly that, with an added bit of training on how he should use a knife if he needed to. As he told Ran when they finished, he had no plans on getting one. “They’d probably get it away and use it on me, instead.”
“I doubt it,” Ran replied. “Still, there’s no sense in taking that chance. You’re a good street fighter, now that you have some real practice under your belt. We’ll leave it at that for the time being.”
“So what was today all about? As far as that goes, why the shooting lessons yesterday?”
“You’ll find out in time. For now, continue on as you have been.”
“Meaning pulling weeds tomorrow,” Davie groused.
Ran laughed. “Everyone has their burdens to bear. That’s yours.” Ran put a hand on his arm to make certain he had his attention. “Don’t get your hopes up when it comes to Vin. I’ve seen others think they could entice him into their bed. He shut them down fast.”
Davie cocked his head in question. “Including you?”
“Good lord no. I told you, if I’m going to get involved with a man he has to be close to my own age.”
Sighing, Davie said, “I thought he put me off because he didn’t want anyone to know he was gay.”
“Most of the guys who are here at this point have no clue.”
“Huh? How long has he been here?”
“Let’s say longer than almost everyone else and leave it at that,” Ran replied.
“Damn, someone must have a real hate on for him if this is the only place he’s safe.”
“That, Davie, is none of your business, any more than why you’re here is anyone’s concern unless you choose to tell them. I think you understand that by now.”
“I do.”
* * * *
Friday morning, on his way to the laundry cabin to get mops and a bucket for cabin cleaning duty, Davie saw a car parked beside Maddox’s truck. There was also a light on in Slade’s cabin, so he figured the man was back again.
Maybe I can skip clean-up if he’s here to tell me about the proposition he mentioned. That would frost Grey’s ass.
It didn’t happen. Davie and Grey spent the morning getting everything as spotless as possible. Not that Maddox would come by to inspect. It was presumed, and rightly so, that everyone was old enough to do their cleaning without prompting or a threat of punishment if they didn’t. As Ash had said to Davie when he ran into him the first Friday he was there, “For all of us this is home for now, and a lot better than the streets. So taking one morning a week to thoroughly clean our cabins is hardly a chore.”
Davie had just started making their lunch while Grey took the cleaning tools back where they belonged when there was a knock on the door.
“It’s open,” Davie called out, smiling when Ran came in.
“Eat,” Ran said when he saw what Davie was doing. “Then come by my cabin unless you have something important in the works.”
“Will do.” Davie knew that would have been a moot point, even if he did. Still he teased, “I think I can pass on planning a hootenanny for tonight.”
Ran chuckled. “I’d hope so. A hootenanny?”
“It was the first thing that came to mind.”
“Do you even know what that is?”
Davie nodded. “When I was a sophomore, the school decided to put one on to raise money for…something. It was fun, I guess, if you’re into country.”
Laughing, Ran said, “I’ll see you in half an hour,” then left as Grey returned.
“Now what?” Grey asked, coming over to help with the sandwiches.
“No clue,” Davie replied. “Hopefully not another tour of the fences. It looks like rain and it’s barely noon.”
“When you leave here, you can get a job on a ranch as the official fence inspector.”
“Yeah, right. That and taking care of the garden. Do ranches have gardens?”
They bantered some more about what life on a ranch would be like as they ate. Then, after doing the dishes, Davie took off.
When Ran let him in, Davie saw Slade seated in one of the armchairs and Vin on the sofa. Ran took the second armchair, leaving the other end of the sofa for Davie.
Slade directed his first words to Davie. “There’s a job that needs to be done and it’s up to you and Vin to carry it out.”
Nervous, Davie almost replied, “We need another garden?” Wisely, he refrained, only asking, “What sort of job?”
“A small group of men is preying on the homeless.”
“And this is new why?” Davie said dourly.
“Because these guys are coercing young men your age or a bit older into working menial jobs in exchange for a place to stay, food, and minimal, if any, pay.”
“I take it there’s more to it than that,” Vin said. “Because that’s really not a bad offer if you’re living on the streets.”
Slade nodded. “The lodgings, if you can call them that, are in—and this comes from two kids we know of who managed to escape—semi-trailer trucks. The trailers have been partitioned into cages that are locked at night. Each one has a thin mattress and a blanket and that’s it. In order to work, the kids have to turn over any ID they possess when they’re first hired, and I use the word hired loosely. That happens before they find out what the living conditions are like. They’re told that the boss needs the ID for employment forms, and so he can open a bank account for them where he’ll deposit what they earn. But they’re never given the name of the bank or a PIN to withdraw the money, and their ID isn’t returned to them.”
Ran took up the story, saying, “Once they’re in the men’s clutches, they’re driven to work sites inside and out of the city, depending. They do paving, maintenance work, factory work, or field work if they end up on a farm. You name it, if it’s menial, they do it. Each work group is under the control of a guy called the gangmaster. He is free with his beatings if anyone tries to complain, escape, or talk to someone where they’re working about what’s happening. At the end of the day they’re returned to the trailer where they’re fed just enough to keep them alive and able to work again the next day. If they have a drug habit, the gangmaster gives them enough to keep them hooked, withholding it if they act up. The same with alcohol.”
“Damn it!” Davie exclaimed. “Why hasn’t someone done something about this?”
The Encampment Page 5
