Wild Boys: An Apocalyptic MM Romance

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Wild Boys: An Apocalyptic MM Romance Page 5

by C. Margery Kempe


  “What we need is a tunnel, like The Great Escape,” ArachNed said with a note of wistfulness in his voice. “Or if we could shoot some kind of cable over there with a grappling hook—”

  “And hope it held our weight as we swung over hand to hand? No, thank you.” Glen shook his head.

  “Tunnel,” Joey said with a funny look in his eye.

  “We going to dig through three floors with teaspoons?” DD asked with a sneer.

  “We don’t have to dig,” Joey said with a laugh. “We have Digger.”

  Digger felt as if his eyes were going to pop out of his head and the rest of him would just melt into the floor. Suddenly, everyone was staring at him. “What?”

  “Digger is our reconnaissance specialist. He has worked out a way to get through the air vents into other rooms.”

  Digger didn’t know if it was possible to explode just from someone’s words, but Joey’s words by turns made him feel proud, unbearably noticed and then rather terribly scared as he contemplated the impact of them. He had to live up to them. If he did this, he was going to have to get up in the vents and go further than he ever had before. His mouth felt dry all at once. “I-I’ve only gone a little ways. Not very far. It’s easy to get lost. All the vents look kind of the same when you’re in them.”

  Joey put a hand on his shoulder and the impact, though seemingly slight, sent an electric shock through his body. It was more than just something sexy. It was the warmth in the gesture. Joey was willing to be friendly to him and in public, too. He could hardly believe it. He had been skulking in the shadows so long, the idea seemed nearly impossible. The smile Joey offered him was just icing on the cake.

  Not to mention nearly swoon-inducing.

  But there was no time for that now. “Seriously, I’m not sure I could find the right place in the vents.”

  “You can carry my compass,” ArachNed said. “And we can tie a cord to you so you can’t possibly get lost.”

  “Better than bread crumbs,” Joey said with a laugh.

  “Well, all right I suppose.” Digger flushed, a little disconcerted yet, but growing in confidence as he saw they had confidence in him. ArachNed and Glen sorted out the direction, while Digger pondered the best point to begin. He was a little nervous thinking about the long way he would have to go, and there was no assurance that he could open the doors once he got there. “How do I open the doors? What if they’re double doors, too?”

  The boys debated the possibilities: breaking the doors open, jimmying the doors, or taking something explosive—ArachNed’s idea.

  “If we have explosives,” Digger said, quite certain that he did not want to carry explosives, “Why not just use them on the doors at this end?”

  “I’ve been meaning to try to make some. I found a book that sort of hints at how to make a bomb with just salt and sugar and few other things I might be able to scare up.”

  “I don’t want to be an experiment.” Digger was adamant.

  “Let’s just consider this reconnaissance for now,” Joey said at last. “When we know more, we can decide, but let’s find out what we’re up against. In the meantime, you lot get busy knotting another ladder. I have a feeling we’ll need two by the time we’re through.”

  “But what about the cord he’s going to take with him?” Markie pointed out, jerking a thumb at Digger. “That’s going to tie up valuable bits of rope, er, cords. We don’t have an infinite supply.”

  “Here it is!” Glen came back in the cafeteria. After they’d unblocked the door, he had gone off scrounging. He came back waving a skein of some kind of yarn. “Apparently, one of the guards knitted or summat. I think it’s just right for our Theseus.”

  “Our what?” DD scowled at him, suspicious that there was some kind of joke in there that he wasn’t getting.

  “No one appreciates my genius,” Glen said with mock tragedy. “You guys never hear of Greek mythology? Wasn’t it taught in your school?”

  “Who listened to those morons?” DD sniffed. “It’s not like you use any of that in real life.”

  “And is this not real life?” Glen stared at him, laughing. “I just used it right now. Knowing our lad Digger is going into the vents much like Theseus crept into the minotaur’s labyrinth, I give him a thread to come back just like Ariadne did. Only, I won’t ask you to marry me afterward,” he added with a wink at Digger.

  “Well, that’s me relieved,” Digger joked. All the boys laughed, even DD. It was a new experience for Digger to feel part of a group. Though his heart was completely occupied with thoughts of Joey, he appreciated the kindness they showed him as they welcomed him as part of the group.

  ArachNed and Glen figured out that he needed to head west, so they all went to the westernmost part of the portion of the accessible areas, which opened from the corridor outside the storeroom. Their guy Tony was standing guard with one of Johnny’s guys. They both looked tense as the gang approached, then only curious as they went past to the vent panel.

  “I usually have to find something to stand on,” Digger said.

  There wasn’t much of anything in the corridor, but Joey laughed and said, “We’ll lift you up.” He and Glen both bent down and raised Digger on their shoulders. He felt a little giddy—mostly because of being so close to his dream—but made quick work of the screws, handing them to Glen, then pulling out the cover, which Joey took from him and handed off to the others.

  “Okay,” Digger said, his heart feeling a bit fluttery. “Pliers? Compass? Yarn?” They were handed up to him, then he took a breath and launched himself into the vent.

  “Good luck,” Joey said softly.

  Digger didn’t have room to turn to see if he was smiling, but he thought it sounded like he was. Somehow, that made him want even more to have this scheme work out. He pulled a length of thread off the ball of yarn and threw it back over his shoulder. “Can someone grab that?”

  “Boost me,” Glen said to Joey. Digger could see him grab the end of the thin cord. “Got it!”

  “All right.” Digger began to crawl, mostly using his arms. It was fine for a good while as it was a straight shot forward. He tried to call to mind the shape of the building. The grills he slipped over offered glimpses of the space below. He was in a long corridor. As he squinted ahead, he could see the vent ended, though he hoped that it turned off in another direction.

  When he got to the junction, Digger found it went left and right—or rather south and north. He squinted into the murk. There seemed to be a bit more light to the left, so he chose that direction (south). If it was sunlight, then there was bound to be fresher air as well, which was always a good thing. Reaching another turn (turning west again) he glimpsed the outside through the grill and a surge of optimism filled him. Maybe this would work! And it would sort of make him a hero, in a way.

  Don’t get big-headed, he heard his father’s voice scold. You haven’t done it yet.

  Digger kept on doggedly until he noticed the skein of yarn getting thin. Only a few more loops of it left. He turned again (north now) and saw another split that would take him west again. The yarn wouldn’t get him far past that point. He wanted to go on at least a little bit further—finding a place to get out or to stand up would be a relief—so Digger slipped off one of his shoes and tied the end of the yarn to that.

  I’m not going far, he told himself with confidence. I’ll be able to find that again. He turned the corner that brought him west again and sought the end of the long vent. Looking back over his shoulder Digger could see his shoe yet, so he didn’t worry. At the next turn of the vent, he looked through the grill and it looked like a mirror image of the corridor he had left.

  He reached for the pliers, pocketing the compass for now. Reversing the memorized righty tighty, lefty loosey in his head, he managed to undo the screws holding the cover in place, though it took a good bash with the pliers to get it to fall to the floor. It was likely no one had taken off the cover since it had been installed.

&
nbsp; Below, he found nothing in the immediate vicinity to ease his way down. Digger didn’t fancy landing on his head. He twisted around. Maybe he could grab that sprinkler and it would give him a chance to get his feet out from under him. Leaning out far enough to get his hands around it, the little rotary things cut into his skin, but it gave him enough leverage to pull out of the vent and get his feet heading to the ground first.

  Digger shook the pain out of his hands as he looked around. The corridor was quiet. Well, of course there were no people on this side. He could smell the faint smell of smoke, a reminder of the fate of so many they’d never see again. Switching the pliers for the compass again, he oriented himself and headed toward where he thought the steps to the other tower ought to be. Much to his surprise, the door was right there and open. He grabbed a duty cart and jammed it against the handle just in case, then ran up the stairs. The door at the top was shut. He grabbed the handle and despaired that it did not turn. He kept at it for a while, then gave up. Maybe someone could jimmy it.

  He headed back down the stairs to the corridor and decided to try a couple more doors, most seemed to be locked, but there was an office that was open. He stepped inside, hoping that he might find something useful and a horrible smell hit him. A rotting corpse sat behind the desk. Digger gagged. He wanted to run away, but then he steadied himself. An office this big suggested the man was someone important.

  Digger made himself approach the man. He had a gun clenched in his claw-like hand and a bottle of something brown with a weird name on it beside him. He must have shot himself when it all went down. A surge of anger filled him. How could you abandon a prison full of people when you knew something terrible was happening? Because he didn’t think of us as people.

  As he stepped behind the desk, Digger trod on what was left of the man’s drinking glass. Cursing, he hopped aside, dislodging the stinking corpse as he left a trail of red. He had cut himself very badly. Looking around him, Digger reached for the handkerchief in the man’s breast pocket and did his best to bandage up his foot. He pulled the gun from the man’s hand, which took some doing as he grimaced with distaste. He didn’t know how to open it to see if there were more bullets, but it would likely prove useful, if only for show. He stuck it in the back of his waistband.

  Idly, he began opening drawers in the desk. There were papers and more papers, stationery for the lockup, tape, staples and whatnot that probably were in every desk in every office across the world. Then he opened the shallow wide drawer in the middle and gasped.

  A thing they all knew so well, had seen times without number, hated and yet longed for: the ring of keys. Big gate keys that looked more like puzzles, cell keys, normal office keys, little keys that went to who knows what: they were all there. They could get anywhere.

  He grabbed the big ring and went back out into the corridor. In a minute or so, he figured out which was the key for the big double door. It turned in the lock and his heart leapt up with excitement. But when he tried to move the door it didn’t open. It didn’t even budge. Digger turned the key the other way and it made no difference. He wondered if it could just be stuck. Then he noticed how the light was slipping away and it made him feel a bit nervous, then he remembered.

  I’m not alone. I don’t have to figure everything out myself.

  The thought buoyed him so much, he almost thought he could float into the vent, but it wasn’t quite that easy. He grabbed the duty cart he had jammed against the tower door and rolled it into place so he could climb up on it to get back in the vent. It surprised him that he felt a bit woozy as he climbed up. The handkerchief around his foot was soaked red, and he had been leaving red footsteps on the linoleum.

  Digger didn’t think he was in any danger of passing out in the vent, but the adrenaline the idea gave him probably helped hurry him along. He picked up his shoe and just pushed it ahead of him as he followed the yarn back to the starting point. It was too difficult to try to get it back on and his foot hurt too much anyway. It seemed a lot further back than it had been coming, but part of that was impatience.

  The other part of it was feeling poorly. By the time he made the last turn for the long stretch to the exit, he was seeing stars. He heard the cheer go up as Glen shouted, “There he is!” It gave him just enough kick to keep crawling forward. The ring of keys scraped the vent as he worked his way along.

  vi

  When at last Digger reached the light, the hubbub of clamoring voices surrounded him and then arms did as well as they helped him down to the ground. They asked him a bunch of questions all at once, which he wasn’t able to answer because as soon as he was upright, he knew he had to be horizontal. His shoe fell to the floor, but the guys caught him before he joined it. He started to mutter something about the keys, but then remembered one of Johnny’s guys was right there.

  Then he was out and did not come around until it was all dark around him. Blinking into the black, Digger sat up with a muffled cry and no idea where he was.

  “Hey, it’s all right.” Joey’s voice proved to be the most reassuring thing possible. In a moment, he was sitting on the edge of the bed where Digger realized he had been lying. “You passed out from the blood, I guess. You did an awesome job.”

  Digger shook his head to try to clear it. His foot throbbed. Then he remembered. “The keys!”

  “Yep, got them.” Joey’s smile flashed in the dark. “And the gun too.”

  “I don’t know if it has bullets. The guard—or one of the guvnors—he’d shot himself in one of the offices. Like an idiot I didn’t see the glass on the floor. He had been drinking some kind of hooch.”

  “We bandaged it up as well as we could. At least it looked mostly clean.” Joey shifted and put a hand on Digger’s shoulder. “You really came through for us.”

  Digger grinned even if Joey couldn’t see it. “Then I fainted like a baby.”

  “You lost a lot of blood. Thanks to the keys, Glen unlocked the medicine cabinet in the kitchen and we were able to get clean bandages and antibiotic stuff for you. Oh, and some cold beans if you want them.”

  Digger struggled to sit up and took the bowl from Joey. It wasn’t the best meal he’d ever had, but feeling so ravenous it didn’t really matter. Having Joey beside him probably helped. “Thanks. I didn’t realize how hungry I was.”

  Joey smiled and then looked more serious. “We got a plan. Want to hear it?”

  “Sure.”

  Joey laughed. “We gather up all the stuff we can tomorrow and make our way out. We figure with the keys and everything, we can get out and start heading toward civilization. We’ll dig up whatever looks useful that we can carry. Make bundles of bedding and drag as much food as possible. ArachNed was explaining a way to drag it along, something he got from a tribal history, shaped like a triangle sort of. I can’t explain. The name sounded French. But it would make it so we can carry more than on our shoulders.”

  “A travois,” Digger said, astonished by how far plans had advanced.

  “How’d you know that?” Joey asked.

  It was Digger’s turn to laugh. “My dad loved Western novels. The plains Indians used them.”

  “Cool. So tomorrow we’ll join up with the others, surprise them like first.”

  “After all, we won,” Digger said with pride.

  “Damn straight we did.” Joey put his hand on Digger’s thigh again, his touch light and tentative. “I—I’m glad you came through okay.”

  Digger got the feeling that wasn’t what he’d meant to say, but it was just a feeling. “I knew you were counting on me. That made a difference.” It really did, he knew. Digger was that much more daring about it because he knew Joey was thinking about him.

  Joey was quiet for a long time, then he said, “I’ve been thinking about what you said. You know, about the penguins.”

  Digger had to think for a moment, then remembered. “Oh?”

  “Yeah. Natural, you said?”

  “Yeah. They even gave them an egg
and they hatched it together and took care of the chick, just like regular parents.”

  “So, it’s not wrong?”

  His voice was so very quiet, Digger had to turn his head to hear it better. “I wouldn’t care if it was.” He moved Joey’s hand to his crotch, where his cock had begun to stiffen and having Joey’s hand that near sped up the process. Joey caressed him through the fabric, his touch tentative at first and then growing bolder. Digger reached over and put his hand below Joey’s waistband and began stroking him. Before long they were both loosening flies until they were flesh on flesh, hands pumping one another with eager strokes.

  Digger leaned in, his face upturned toward Joey’s. After a moment, Joey leaned down and their lips came together. Digger thrust his tongue through Joey’s and their mouths opened to feast on one another and their cocks became rock hard as they stroked together. This, this was joy, this was bliss! Digger knew this is what his body and his heart had long hungered for. He wanted it to last forever, but Joey’s hand on his cock made him too delirious with pleasure.

  His heart hammered so fast that he gulped for breath and let go of Joey’s cock. As their kiss broke, he fell back as Joey moved both hands to fist up and down his length and in no time he was yelping a strangled cry (always, always trying not to be heard, always hiding the truth). His seed poured out over his lover’s hands and the explosion of joy left him limp with a stupid grin on his face.

  In the whole of his short life, Digger had never been so happy. “Thank you,” he whispered to Joey, but his words were cut off by another deep and lingering kiss. When at last their lips parted again, Digger turned over and slipped his trousers down. “I want you to take me. I need you to make me yours.” He tried to see Joey’s expression in the dark.

  “I don’t want to hurt you—”

  “Then lube me up with that spunk.” Digger laughed. Joey wiped a hand across his wet chest, then smeared his arse crack with the seed he had just spilled and then grabbed his hips in firm hands. The heat between their bodies burned like fire. Gently, ever so gently, he thrust the tip of his cock in Digger’s puckered hole. They both sighed. Joey took his time, thrusting deeper and deeper. Even though Digger could feel tension in his body, it was the best sensation he had ever experienced. He tried not to picture Joey pounding DD’s arse in the same manner, but it made him hot anyway. His own much-abused cock was already twitching with desire. The sweat of their bodies mingled as they moved as one.

 

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