Six Inches Thick

by Robert Revolver

  “C’mon, you pussies.”

  “Hey, don’t get too fuckin’ far ahead of us.” Fetch warns, budging in front of Sime and grabbing the spot beneath Sammy on the ladder. “I still got all the rest of our weed.”

  “Oh yeah? Are you keepin’ that next to your virginity?” She calls back, impressing herself with a sudden burst of hormonally-driven bravery. Fetch doesn’t answer, but Sime snickers little.

  Everyone quickly falls silent as they continue up the inside corner of the elevator. The rungs seem to go on forever, and it gets darker and darker the further they go up. Eventually, however, Sammy’s hands reach the top and she fingers a tiny beam of light leaking in under a spongy, square wooden door.

  “I’m at the top. How do I get this thing open?”

  “It’s kinda rotten,” Sime answers from way down below. Fetch still isn’t talking. “Just gotta push on it.”

  She follows his suggestion and reaches up above her head. The wood flexes away from her hand but the beam of light is getting bigger.

  “Careful, it might—”

  CRACK!

  The door crumbles from the force of her hand, splintering into pieces and raining down on top of them. They spill across her shoulders like clumps of grass, small and dull with age. Her hand slaps back onto the ladder to brace for another impact, but it’s over quickly. When she opens her eyes, the noon-hour sun pours into the shaft. She turns and checks on Fetch directly below her. He diverts his eyes, but he’s a little too late. Even with bits of dirt covering his face, he was totally trying to catch a quick look up her shorts...

  She lifts her eyebrows and gives him a knowing wink before looking back through the now opened doorway. It’s an easy climb from here, and after a few careful bends around splintered remnants of the door, she’s up and off the ladder and standing on the roof. A light, humid breeze stirs across her face, pushing away the musty stench of the floor way down below. It tastes a little metallic but it’s so much better than back down the hole.

  “Okay, so what do I do now?” She asks, absently calling back to Fetch and Sime as they shimmy through the opening behind her. “I don’t see any pigeons.”

  Fetch stands up and slides the gun off his shoulder while wiping bits of crud off his face.

  “Hey, wait! Guys, hold on—” Sime calls out from the stairs. His voice is hushed and sounds oddly serious. As in, “Hey, the cops are here” kind of serious.

  “Holy shit! You guys hear that?”

  Sammy and Fetch both stare back at the hole and listen. Sime is still somewhere down there on the ladder. Exchanging a confused glance, they walk closer toward the shaft. And they hear it. It’s a low, groaning noise, like the slow turn of a giant gear. It resonates through the whole building and is followed by some sloshing in the water way back down where they were standing when they came in. But it’s louder than that. It’s splashing around in a lot more watery muck than they walked through to get here.

  Fetch looks back down the hole. His face is exaggerated with anger.

  “Sime, what the fuck are you doing?” He barks and wrinkles his nose. Obviously everything is a mess in his head right now. Most of all, he’s probably still dealing with the fact that a horny girl called him a virgin.

  “I ain’t doin’ nothin’. That ain’t me. It’s comin’ from back down there.”

  Sime finally crawls into view and stands up between them on the roof.

  “Tell me you heard that?”

  “All I heard is you being a total pussy, Sime.” Fetch barks and tries to regain control of the moment. “You guys saw all those birds up here, didn’t ya? So where the fuck are they?”

  Sime shrugs and more-or-less ignores his question. The silence triggers a little bomb to go off in Fetch’s head. He re-grips the rifle with both hands and his eyes scan across the rooftops like a lion looking for prey. He really wants something to blow his load on right now…

  “Here birdie bird—“

  There’s another splash in the water below them, way down under the building. This time the whole roof shakes under their feet. Everyone instinctively crouches down, bracing themselves and looking at each other. Even Fetch. His eyes make contact with Sammy and for an instant he doesn’t try to hide looking scared.

  “Okay, what the fuck was that!?”

  “I told ya, dude.” Sime answers, remaining fairly calm. “Dare’s fuckin’ somethin’ goin’ on down in the water.”

  “Well, Jesus Christ. What is it? What did you see?”

  “No, I don’t know. I didn’t see nothin’. Maybe part of the building’s cavin’ in or somethin’.”

  Sammy swallows back the knot returning to her throat. She would run straight to the car right now if it were possible to skip going back down that ladder.

  “Seriously, guys!” She puts herself in the conversation, holding them both with her eyes. They look back at her, sharing the tension evenly.

  “We’re on the fuckin’ top of this building! If it caves in, we’re gonna die! Has this shit ever happened before?”

  “No! I mean… well...” Sime starts and then stops. His voice cracks a little and he looks at Fetch, silently asking him to jump in and corroborate the story.

  “Yeah, okay. It did once. But it wasn’t like this.” Fetch rolls his eyes in frustration and stands up. “Last time we got caught up here, they said the whole fuckin’ place is gonna come down someday and that we should stay away from here. But that was a long fuckin’ time ago.”

  “Who said that?” Sammy can’t help but ask, suddenly finding her fingers pushing against the roof beneath her.

  “It was just Sime’s fuckin’ brother.” Fetch sneers, walking away toward the edge of the roof. “But he’s a faggot narc.”

  She looks over at Sime and sees him somewhat curled up on himself and ashamed. She remembers that he does have an older brother. He was always into weird stuff and he’s way older than they are. And oh yeah, he’s a cop.

  “Whoa, hey! Shit! There they are!” Fetch explodes with refreshed excitement and purges the tension from the moment. “Look at all those fuckers over there! I bet that’s what was makin’ that noise!”

  Sam and Sime pause, sharing a skeptical glance with each other they both stand up, testing the patchwork of rotting tar paper and curled shingles beginning to sag beneath their weight. They listen for another few seconds but there’s nothing except the sound of Fetch lifting the gun up to his shoulder. Quickly, they move away toward him, following the barrel of his rifle to see what it’s pointing at.

  “Oh my god… ” Sammy blurts out, catching her first look at the mass of pigeons huddled together on a second lower rooftop just below theirs. It’s like a giant, frosted cupcake. Their yellowish-white bodies are packed together so tightly that it’s hard to see where one bird ends and the next begins. There are hundreds, maybe thousands of them. When the air passes over them, they move in a wave, like a big dirty blanket hanging out to dry. The heat of their bodies is rising up the side of the elevator. It carries their scent, warm and ripe.

  “That’s fuckin’ gross. Where did they all come from?”

  BANG! Chik chik…

  Fetch ignores her and opens fire, finally regaining superiority of the conversation. Sammy ducks away from the edge of the building and leans into Sime, covering her ears but keeping her eyes glued to the seething collective of birds. The retort from Fetch’s rifle echoes through the fields as he lines up his next shot.

  BANG! BANG! BANG!

  With each blast, another pigeon explodes into a pool of feathers and gore. Splotches of red appear, but only for an instant before the dead body is quickly sucked back beneath the frantic, swirling mass. Another one explodes and then another, but not a single one of them attempts to fly away…

  BANG! BANG! BANG!

  Fetch keeps firing, pausing only to reload the rifle with a fresh clip from his pocket. Sammy backs away further and lowers her hands. She’s seen enough. Her buzz is almost gone and it’s time to sc
ore another hit or…

  “Ugh.” She shrugs to herself.

  Leave and go to work.

  “Hey!” She shouts in-between rounds, “Okay, you killed ‘em, cowboy. How ‘bout that weed?”

  “What?” Fetch answers, exaggerating the annoyed tone in his voice. He rolls his eyes and looks back at her over his shoulder. She meets him with a tip of her head to the side and her best impression of being totally bored.

  “Are you kidding? Look at this shit. They’ve never acted like this before. They ain’t even movin’ when you shoot ‘em!” He shrugs his shoulders and again takes aim at the smear of birds.

  BANG!

  “That’s so fuckin’ easy. Here, you take a shot.”

  He drops the stock from his armpit and walks toward her. He’s reeling from adrenaline and essentially shoves the gun into her hands. She’s got no other choice than to take it. The wood feels hot and it’s lathered with sweat. He hands her a small pile of loose bullets from his pocket and leaves them there, letting it all rest in her hands while he walks away and sits down cross-legged beside Sime. With a smirk, he pulls a plastic bag from his back pocket and wiggles it in front of his face.

  The sight of it nearly sets her blood on fire. There’s easily a quarter pound of weed inside.

  “I fuckin’ told ya I had more than twenty bucks worth,” he mocks, never dropping the power sneer. “Now get over there and shoot a couple and I’ll roll ‘some up.”

  She fights back the urge to chuck the whole stupid gun and all its bullets over the edge, unable to risk losing out on free weed. He’s got her by the balls—so to speak—and she knows it. And as if to piss her off even more, she kinda likes it.

  “Fine. You want to see me shoot a fucking bird? I’ll shoot a fucking bird.”

  Sammy spins around and quickly loads four rounds into the empty clip and slams it back into place. Her daddy taught her to shoot a long time ago. Pressing the stock up tight against her shoulder, she takes aim right into the heart of the white, fluffy chaos.

  BANG!

  Her eyes watch the bird’s body explode like nothing more than a single feather blowing out of a pillow. She loads another round.

  BANG! Plop. BANG! Plop. BANG! Plop.

  “Ha ha!” Fetch laughs out loud from behind her. “See, it’s fuckin’ fun, ain’t it?”

  She can’t really help but smile. He’s right. Killing things has never been her thing, but doing it like this makes it hard to tell that anything even died. So... Whatever. Yeah, it’s fun. You win.

  “It ain’t bad.” She drops the gun to her side and walks back over to them. “You ready with that yet?”

  “Here. Trade ya.” Fetch offers up a full joint but waits for her to hand him the gun before he lets her have it. It’s a smooth transaction this time as soon as the weed is in her hand, she drops down beside Sime. Then, leaning against a large rusted vent, she tips up onto one butt cheek and pulls an orange plastic lighter from her pocket.

  “About fuckin’ time.”

  With both boys staring back at her, she holds the joint between her lips and sparks the end of the paper. It catches fire instantly and a second later she pulls in a deep breath of fresh smoke. Oh, that’s good. Her eyes close as the feeling of a warm glove slides down over her body. It holds her still and makes everything feel safe again. Exhaling the sweetness through her teeth and nose, she slowly reopens her eyes. The boys are grinning like a couple of mischievous gremlins. She takes another drag, filling her lungs all the way and holding it for just a few seconds before letting it go and blowing it right in their faces.

  “You guys are so weird.” She laughs and begins passing the joint.

  “Yeah, you too.” Sime says, feeling complimented and taking the next hit. He tips his head back and sucks at it, swallowing the taste like he’s having a pull from a bottle. He’s so relaxed. It captivates her. There’s so much hidden confidence that he hides from Fetch. It’s so fucking attractive...

  Fetch takes it next, pulling in a few quick puffs while Sime lets his lungs out slow and methodically. Fetch’s eyes glaze over instantly and fall loose in their sockets. They roll across the roof and then lazily up and over her legs before finally coming to a stop staring straight at her chest.

  She acknowledges his gaze, but she just can’t keep her eyes off of Sime. She suddenly feels… drawn to him. He just looks so natural. Like he doesn’t care at all about anything. He’s just sitting there and thinking. He’s staring down at his hands. At the space around his hands. His hands look so soft but at the same time hardened and ready to attack…

  She shifts her weight and giggles, noticing a small puddle forming in her panties. Nobody else is even paying attention to her but she’s so turned on. She’s burning up. It’s so warm and it’s spreading. All she can do is sit still and slide her tongue slowly around the inside of her mouth, plowing through her saliva as if it were honey.

  Sammy receives the joint back from Fetch and lifts it to her lips for another toke. One trip around the circle and it’s half cashed. She purses her lips and sucks her breath through the fire. The sky blurs. It’s all clouds of blue and wind and bittersweet perfume. She wishes she could fly. She lets her arm drift out at her sides like two circus balloons. They bob up and down inside the sleeves of her shirt, heaving her chest up and down as if were about to float away. Fetch is watching with his tongue about to roll out over his lower teeth, but Sime... Why won’t he look?

  She lets out her hit and passes it off. Sime tosses a narrow glance into her eyes as he reaches to take it from her. It pierces through her, breaking her guard. She seizes the moment and just as he has it, she reaches down and crosses her arms around her waist. It catches his attention and forces her to smile. And then he smiles. And then, squeezing her fists around the fabric, she pulls her shirt up and over her head, revealing her bare belly and a thin, shiny, black bra. She giggles again when the breeze blows across her bare skin and cools the sweat running down her sternum.

  She looks up and nobody moves a muscle. The boys are speechless.

  That’s right, come and get it.

  She continues to giggle and spontaneously throws her shirt over the edge of roof. Oh shit. Guess there’s no turning back now. Her shoulders glow with anticipation. She’s in full control of their every move. Without waiting another second, she reaches into her cleavage and unlocks the clasp keeping her breasts restrained. Her bra practically explodes to either side and lets everything fall free. Untethering it from her arms, she tosses it to the side and laughs out loud. Her nipples are already hard.

  “Oh... my... god.” Sime whimpers while the joint smolders in his fingers. Yes, he’s finally looking! His eyes are wide and locked on her flesh. She’s moves and he moves. She’s commanding his full attention. And obviously, Fetch’s, too.

  She throws her head back, letting them soak up what they’ve been after since this whole adventure started. And her, too. She tips back and lays her shoulders against the roof, pulling her hands above her head and resting them in her hair. She feels the smile on her face. It’s like a child’s—ear to ear—but she can’t stop it. She doesn’t want to stop it. The moisture between her legs begins to spread under her thighs. She can smell her own, delicious, dripping sex. It smothers her. And then... Sime’s hands are on her thighs.

  “Oh, it feels so good up here.” She purrs, basking in the goddess glory that has engulfed her. Fetch’s hands are on her now too. She loves it. She doesn’t care if he’s an asshole. Not right now. She wants it all. One of them fumbles with the button on the front of her shorts and it snaps open. She lets them open her like a package, pretending that she’s nothing more than a slab of their favorite meat, asking to be devoured.

  Her shorts pass across her knees and she can feel a finger creeping inside of her.

  “Oh, gimme something bigger than that! Who wants to go first?” She groans, letting herself get lost in the moment. She hears her voice roll softly from her mouth, soaked in temptation. Sh
e keeps her eyes closed and tastes the sun. It tastes beautiful and someone is moving on top of her. One of them takes the lead. Her shorts are pulled away from her ankles and her panties follow. The air is cold when it passes over her juices. She moans and laughs. She feels their fingers tremble. Who’s inexperienced, now? She wants to say, but inside her head, the faces don’t matter anymore. They are hers. They worship her. They carry her high into the sky.

  One of them is all the way above her now. And he’s inside. There’s pressure on her stomach from below. It’s so full. He’s so... big. She wraps her legs around him and runs her heels across his skin. The length of his body is so hard and soft and warm and moving back and forth. She can’t stop smiling but she still won’t open her eyes. Her shoulders grind against the roof. It feels slimy but it doesn’t hurt, at least not enough to make her want to stop. There’s something on her lips. She can smell him. Oh God, it’s Sime!

  She finally opens her eyes. Light rushes in, bright and divine. There’s his shadow. He fades into view. He’s kneeling above her head, his cock stiff and his whole body naked. She grins and eagerly takes him in her mouth. She breathes in and out around his length. The air fills with the reek of marijuana and asphalt. From below, Fetch jerks into her waist, pushing her up and driving Sime deeper into the back of her throat. Their hands share her breasts, kneading them like bread dough while they pump themselves into her. Everyone is groaning through their teeth. She closes her eyes again and just listens, letting the moment fill her mind and carry her back into the clouds...

  “I’m gonna cum...” she hears one of them say. Already? No, I want this to last forever. “I’m gonna do it on her face.”

  The voice belongs to Fetch. His small body is slapping against hers quicker now. He’s grunting like a dog, trying to hold it in. The thought of his cum splashing against her face suddenly sounds so funny. She laughs, pressing her tongue against the underside of the Sime’s penis.

  “Okay, do it.” She says, spitting out Sime’s cock for a moment, letting it fall against her cheek. “Blow that big monster on my face.”