“Right then, how long shall we give this game?” Joey looked over at Johnny, who seemed to be enjoying his gang’s newfound camaraderie, too. For once, he appeared to be a little more relaxed than usual. Most of the time he was always jockeying for position with Joey. Johnny was still tense, but it seemed to be energizing rather than distracting. His big shoulders flexed in anticipation. Competition suited him.
“Three days? At least to begin with? If we haven’t got anywhere, we could let it go for a week.”
“Does anyone know what day it is? How do we keep track?”
“It’s the fourteenth of August,” Digger said quietly.
“There you are,” Joey said. “So that’s the start. Here’s what we’ll do.” He dug in his pockets and brought out a felt tip like the guards used to use to write the duty rosters. The dull industrial green walls actually provided a great canvas for the pen. He wrote in big steady block letters: THE CONTEST BEGINS, then scrawled the date below it.
“Tomorrow, we’ll chalk up day one and see how much progress we have. So do we have ground rules to keep things on the up and up?” The discussion quickly devolved into everyone talking excitedly at once, but gradually a few rules were agreed upon, most importantly that stores would continue to be guarded with one member from each team on shift at all times.
“Let’s hit the gym,” Johnny commanded his crew and they all trooped away. Joey and his team watched them head off then he motioned to his guys to sit down at the cafeteria table.
“Let’s think this through while they run through their calisthenics. I know we’re not in tip top shape, but I think we have a pretty good brain trust here. And we need to be creative.” Joey looked around the table at his guys, who nodded and tried to look thoughtful for the most part. “What have we got that can get us out of here? Let’s just toss ideas out.”
Digger couldn’t really think at first. He managed to sit next to Joey and all he could do was feel the heat of him, smell his scent and stare at his hands. He longed to feel those big hands on him and it was distracting to keep picturing them running all over his skin—or running his hands all over every inch of Joey’s flesh. Digger did his best to will away the semi he was getting. His dick had a mind of its own that proved determined. It was really distracting. He had to pay more attention to the discussion so he would stop picturing the two of them naked together in darkness and warmth, somewhere far away that wasn’t this prison. He shook his head and tried to concentrate on the conversation.
“What about power?” Joey asked Glen, his brows furrowed.
Glen sighed. “Without access, there’s no way to be sure that it’s broken down completely or if things just need a reboot. The doors between us and the engine room are all locked.”
“Can we get there some other way than the doors?” Joey asked. “What about along the walls? Can we get to it from the roof room?”
“If we could get outside from the roof room, why bother with the power? We should just make a go of it toward civilization.” Markie shrugged.
“But how?” Glen shook his head. “We need ropes and things we don’t have—assuming someone is crazy enough to want to rappel down the side of the building.”
“There’s no other way, so someone will have to do it.” Markie laughed and added, “You know those guys aren’t going to be afraid of risking life and limb just to win.”
“We have to be smart,” Joey said. “Risky, yeah, but I don’t want anyone to be in real danger unless it’s absolutely necessary.”
“If it isn’t necessary now, it will be soon,” Markie persisted. “We’re living on borrowed time as it is.” The others began to mutter at this unpleasant truth. They hadn’t wanted to think about it before this, not really. They had been caught up in the idea of the competition because it was another distraction from their pathetic reality.
“Well, how can we make rope?” Glen cut in. “We have to repurpose things around us. We can haul out wiring that’s not necessary—cords, cables, and such.”
“How long of rope do we need?” Joey frowned. “Has anyone an idea how long the drop is from the roof?”
“We should go measure it…somehow.” Glen sighed. “I guess we can eyeball it and make an estimate.”
ArachNed nodded. “We can measure inside and get a pretty good estimate of the outside lengths. I could probably get some power going again if we could get into the room. If all else fails, I can knock up a mini generator from the stuff they’re bound to have there.”
“What about phone lines?” Joey looked hopeful for a minute, but Digger knew better. It was kind of amazing to realize that his crush didn’t know everything.
“The phones would work without electricity, at least the hard-wired ones,” ArachNed said. “The phone lines themselves between us and the rest of the world are down, or were down. I pick up phones now and then just to test,” he admitted with a shrug.
“Should we go up and check the roof before it gets dark?” Glen looked eager to go.
Joey gave it a thought. “We don’t want to tip our hands to the other guys. You and ArachNed go up and reconnoiter.” He looked satisfied at having a reason to use that term. “The rest of us need to inventory everything we’ve got, however unimportant it seems at the minute. Then we can pool our resources and see what we can come up with. Right? Okay, let’s meet back here in an hour.”
Digger drifted away as they all dispersed. The others walked with purpose, chatting happily about the useful things they had. He didn’t really have much of anything to share. They had all been able to have their own bunks because the 18s had just been purged before The Collapse. Some folks were released and others sent on to adult lockups. Digger wondered about the one boy who had kind of befriended him at first, Tommy—the others shunned him because he was a flasher. Had he survived? What happened to the people outside? He couldn’t stop worrying that there was nothing out there and escape only meant death a bit sooner.
Maybe it would be a death at Joey’s side, though. That softened the thought. The sentimental declaration ‘I’d die for you’ had a little more meaning when the world seemed to have lurched toward its end. What if there was no one and no help out there at all? All the boys sent here to be tamed, what if these reckless ones were the only ones to survive?
iv
Digger stepped into his open cell. He had taken a small corner one. Even in the daytime it was mostly shadows. His reluctance to take up space grew from knowing that if you passed below the radar, you were less likely to become a victim. Now he could only think of how little he had to offer Joey. He had some books, gleaned originally from the mission boxes the evangelicals brought. Though they were mostly cheesy crap, even the god botherers slipped in a few good things now and then, seemingly by accident: history books, philosophy and a few practical things. He pulled a few books that might be helpful on history and architecture. Call of the Wild, Robinson Crusoe—they could help once they were outside. Most of the others were novels—they were entertaining, but he wasn’t sure they offered much practical help in escape. He traced the letters on his favorite one, a book that was supposed to teach religious faith, but he never seemed to get to the faith part, lingering instead on the beginning where two young men became obsessed with each other at college, and the poor one fell in love with his friend’s luxurious life.
His cupboard didn’t offer much more than his meager clothes. There wasn’t anything that could be made into a weapon. He didn’t have anything in toiletries but a bar of soap. He’d never much thought about how spartan his life was. There had never been much he needed. Even back in the day with his dad, they had made do with sharing a tiny room. He couldn’t remember when they lived in a house, though his dad said it was so. The most precious thing he owned was his journal, but that was only valuable to him. Digger sat down to make a few notes in it before casting a final appraising look around his cell and sighing. There just wasn’t much he had to give apart from himself.
Back in
the cafeteria there was a jolly atmosphere of fun. The guys had turned up an amazing amount of useful things: blades, cans, a sort of step ladder from somewhere, things liberated from the guards’ room after The Collapse, a big pile of furniture. It was hard to believe no one had found a gun yet. The story was that all the weapons had been locked in the safe which had an electric trigger, so now it was as good as sealed for the duration—unless they got the power back on.
Joey looked very pleased with the haul. His smile lit up the room as he turned to Glen and ArachNed. “You two got an estimate of how long a cord we’ll need?”
ArachNed nodded. “We need about ten meters to get down to the flat part. It may be closer to nine, but we want to be sure.”
“We should make a ladder and not just a cable to make it easier to climb back if we have to make a few trips,” said Glen. “And I got a scouting handbook with examples of knots so they won’t be slipping apart when they’ve got weight on them.”
“Right, so we need a team to get more cables—you three, okay? ArachNed, go with them to make sure they get stuff that’s strong enough. Glen, you want to start teaching people how to knot what we’ve got? The cords from all the appliances in the kitchen here should get us going.”
Digger slid his chair around to help with the knotting, but Joey tapped him on the shoulder. “Hey, want to help me for a minute?”
Digger nodded, not trusting his voice. He didn’t know why he’d been singled out, so terror at the idea of being flung away from the group for some imagined shortcoming warred with soaring delight at even a stolen moment with his idol. He followed Joey into the far corner of the cafeteria where the busy activity of the others was just a lively hum.
“They call you Digger, right?”
He was surprised Joey even knew his name and nodded. “Stupid cartoon.”
Joey laughed, yet it didn’t seem like he was laughing at him. “I’ve been called Joey since I was three. You think I can get anybody to say Joe? No.”
Up close, he was even more handsome than Digger could believe. He could see the scar on his chin that looked sort of whitish, as if it had been there a very long time. His wild hair grew like a golden haystack, falling every which way like it could not be kept still. The hands that he clasped lightly, while leaning on the table, were strong. Digger longed to run his hands along those powerful arms, to see his face in the kind of ecstasy he’d watched flit across it as he emptied his seed into DD. Digger could feel his face flush as he tried not to think about it, pretending his cock had not begun to stir.
“I know you don’t think anybody notices you,” Joey said, his voice softer, confidential. “I suppose a lot of the guys don’t. And it’s probably safer for you.” His blue eyes looked kind when Digger let his glance flick up to them before darting away again. It was a little too much to take just then. Later, he would treasure the image, savoring it like a treat.
Digger found his voice. “I’m not strong. I’m not big or intimidating.”
“But you notice things. I know you do.” Joey’s eyes shined as he smiled down at Digger, who felt a strange churning in his gut. “I want to ask you to do something for me—for us.”
A glow of pride surged through Digger. “Anything.” He hadn’t meant to be quite so breathless in his avowal. Not that it mattered. If Joey knew his feelings, he didn’t show it. He might take advantage of them because he needed work from everyone. Digger didn’t care. Just these moments close to him were a gift.
“I’m wondering what Johnny and his guys are up to.” Joey frowned. “I figured we’d all be jockeying for positions in the roof room. There isn’t any other likely place to get out—unless they found something we don’t know about. It wouldn’t hurt to take a peek at their strategy, right?”
“All’s fair in love and war,” Digger muttered and then wished he hadn’t, but Joey only laughed and nodded.
“Don’t put yourself in any awkward situation. I know Johnny will be real serious about this. I know him. It’s supposed to be a game. He kind of plays for keeps even so.” Joey smiled a bit. It almost seemed apologetic. He had known Johnny a long time.
“Is it true you’re brothers?” Digger asked. It had been the rumor around the lockup.
“Not exactly. We’ve known each other all our lives though, and we are sworn blood brothers—even did a kind of ritual thing when we were ten.” Joey smiled at the memory, but his eyes looked off into the distance as if he could see the past somewhere over there. “He’s a good guy, just kind of…intense, you know?”
Digger nodded. He would have said psycho but po-tay-to po-tah-to. “Okay.”
Joey appeared relieved that Digger didn’t argue with him. He clapped a hand on his shoulder. “I’m glad you understand. Just be cautious, find out as much as you can and report back to me. Do the best you can. If you can’t get close, just be safe.”
“Aye aye, captain.” Digger felt foolish saying it, but his heart bounced along on a happy beat that made him feel a bit high. “I’ll see what I can do.” He stepped away before he could be dismissed, nearly feeling like he were dancing across the cafeteria. As he turned down the hallway, all the possibilities came to him. He had a feeling he knew where they would be and his favorite hideaway wasn’t too far from there.
Down by the showers, he cocked his ear to listen and heard voices off where the gymnasium lay. In the locker room, he climbed up on top of the bank of rusty lockers in the back and pried off the cover of the vent. His usual path lay straight ahead, over the showers themselves. Though he mostly came to watch Joey and DD, others gathered there from time to time, sometimes wanking together in a laddish way. That’s what gave him hope. Joey didn’t join in those groups. He mostly did it with DD, because the junkie would do anything at all for drugs. Most of the guys would force others into sex because they owed them something that couldn’t be paid back any other way. It was all about humiliation. There was no affection.
Joey was different. Digger couldn’t help but wonder if he was like him. Not that he would be interested in me. But he might actually prefer those like himself and that was the thought he clung to in his bunk alone at night as he imagined Joey kissing him, lifting his legs and drilling inside him. He was getting hard again. With a shake, Digger reminded himself he was supposed to be in James Bond mode.
It made him nervous to go very far into the vents, mostly because he had to back all the way out when he returned to the entrance. However, it was just a matter of turning to the right to get going toward the gym. The ceiling was much higher, so the vent took a turn up to the vertical, which allowed him to stand up while he peeked through the grill.
Sure enough, Johnny’s crew was all busy pummeling one another, boxing, grappling, wrestling. Digger didn’t mind that at all. They were all sweaty and boisterous. He looked around for Johnny and didn’t immediately see him. At last, he saw him trading blows with Sid and Simon, practicing what looked like complicated wrestling holds. Digger didn’t know much about martial arts and wrestling but what he saw in films. It seemed odd that they were just working out and not making any strategy, but maybe they thought might would make right.
Digger listened with care, hoping he would get some kind of news to bring back to Joey. He stood there, wedged against the grill, while his arm went to sleep, and heard nothing useful. A few bragged threats about showing “those Dogs”, but nothing specific came to light. As the light began to fade in the long windows, they all packed it in and called it a night and he knew he would have to do so too.
Once he was sure there were no stragglers in the locker room, Digger slipped back out of the vents. A surprising number of the guys had changed into their gym togs for the workouts; he supposed without enough water to wash clothes it at least left them with one set of clothing that wasn’t completely funky, but the stink was part of them all now, so nobody really noticed.
Habits from the old times died hard though. A lot of the Agents of Control were real gym rats. Digger supposed thos
e who didn’t read or enjoy conversation had a limited number of activities to entertain them in the long days inside. It was hard to imagine someone like Sid or Simon getting caught up in an adventure tale or discussing the succession of English kings.
Digger made his way back toward the cells, his steps light on the scuffed linoleum. It was funny how without electricity they had fallen back into the habit of waking and sleeping with the sun’s movements. There had been a few experiments with lighting fires and making candles that had gone badly awry, so when dark descended the guys went to their beds. Some would natter back and forth across the corridor, but they would soon drift off until the dawn reappeared.
In a few steps, he was outside Joey’s room. In the gloom, the leader sat on the edge of his bunk, staring off into space. Digger wondered if he were interrupting, but couldn’t see any way around it. Soon it would be too dark to see his way back with ease, and he didn’t fancy feeling his way to his own corner room as he had to pass Sid and Johnny on the way there.
That didn’t seem like a good idea at all. “Hey,” he finally said.
Joey looked up and smiled wanly. “Reporting back, eh?” He patted the bunk beside him. Digger took a seat with some reluctance, afraid to be so close to his crush, worried he might betray his feelings somehow.
“There’s not much I can tell you. They were all working out in the gym until it got dark. I guess maybe they have a plan, but it can’t be very complicated.”
“Well, that’s a bit odd. I suppose you can tail them again in the morning and see if there’s anything else to hear. They must have some kind of plan, surely.” Joey’s face scrunched up as he puzzled over it. “Were you able to get pretty close to them?”
“Yeah, right near, even right near Johnny. I could hear what they were saying, but it was mostly about hitting each other or vague threats of ‘we’ll show those Dogs’—that kind of thing.”
Wild Boys: An Apocalyptic MM Romance Page 3