“Damn it. Don’t want you go dying on us yet. I got a real boner on for you.” Jase undid his jeans and exposed himself. He proved his statement by taking Brook again and again. Finally, after what felt like hours of torture, he was drained. He pulled himself off her, smacked her playfully on the thigh, and got up. “Bet you like all this, don’t you? You probably ain’t had this much attention since your honeymoon.” He smiled down at her as he zipped his pants. He was whistling an off-key tune as he left the room.
Within seconds, the door was flung open so hard it bounced off the wall. Gina stormed over to Pete, who was still passed out on the floor beside the mattress. She knelt next to him and shoved him hard. “Wake up, you son- of-a-bitch!”
Pete groaned but didn’t move.
“This is all your fault, you ugly bitch” she screamed at Brook. “You and your slutty ways. You’re nothing but a big gigantic pain in the ass. I’m sick of you banging every guy you can get your hands on, and I’m sick of your screaming and hollering. You act like you’re the star of a fucking porn film or something. I hate your fucking guts!”
She turned back to Pete and poked him in the side roughly, hard enough to get his attention. “Come on, Pete. Wake up. I don’t want you sleeping in here with this disgusting slut. It ain’t right and I won’t have it.”
Pete raised his head from the floor and turned his bleary eyes toward Gina.
“Hey, baby,” he said, his words slurred. “Whatcha doin?”
“Don’t ‘hey baby me’! Get your ass up!”
“Help me up, Gina baby. I’m so fucking wasted I can’t hardly move.”
Gina took his arm and tried to pull him to his feet. He fumbled around and finally managed to stand on rubbery legs.
“I can’t believe you. You cheated on me, you jerk!” Gina was crying as she led him from the room.
“No, I didn’t,” Pete said. “I was just messing around. You know how it is. Didn’t mean nothing. She's a toy, that's what Jase says. He says I should play with her, too. Gina! I got to do this or Jase’ll get pissed at me. You know how he is.”
The door slammed behind them as they left the room.
Brook buried her face in the filthy blanket and screamed her frustration.
Later, to her surprise, Brook woke feeling hungry. She had unknowingly entered basic survival mode. Her body was looking out for itself at this point. It demanded food and water with painful urgency, disregarding any polite notions about whether or not it was appropriate to have an appetite under the circumstances. She had managed to steal drinks from the filthy sink in the restroom, but she hadn’t eaten for two days. She crawled to one of the partial bags of chips, delicately peeled apart the opening, and peered inside. Nothing was crawling around and she gingerly took a chip and slipped it into her mouth. It was stale but edible. Brook crammed handfuls of chips into her mouth, crumbs dribbling unnoticed onto her bruised and swollen breasts. She moved to another bag and finished its contents too.
Now thirst joined her list of needs. She tried the door but found it locked. Approaching one of the cups that littered the room she peeked in. Scum floated on top of the old soda pop and she gagged at the idea of drinking any. Still, her thirst was strong. She tipped the cup and tried to scoop off the nasty coating before drinking. She downed the drink, thinking
Chapter 10
Golden sunlight spilled through the small loft window, mingling with the rays from the skylight and ground floor windows to bathe the cabin’s interior in a diffuse morning glow. Lance stood at the stove and added the potatoes he had grated for hash browns to the diced onions already sizzling in the skillet. Another pan stood ready for his eggs. Percolating coffee filled the room with a brisk and savory aroma.
After a hearty breakfast, he would ride into town, drop off Old Reliable, and fetch his bike. When he got back, he planned to get started setting up the new solar electric fence he had purchased in Denver the previous week. As always, he would take extra care to avoid detection by what he thought of as the “Wilderness Nazis”, county agents whose job entailed monitoring the actions of homesteaders via satellite images. He was too far off-road to worry about drive-bys, but he had overheard the locals grouse about the various agencies that enforced the state’s strict water laws and building codes. The last thing Lance wanted, or needed, was attention from someone with authority. Or anyone in general, for that matter; although, if one wanted to get technical, he had permission to use the place.
In the wee hours of the morning, sometime after the rain had passed, he had heard a blood-curdling scream off in the distance. Lance always worried about coyotes, but the chilling wail he had heard in the night was almost certainly a mountain lion in estrus, a sound that made the hair on his neck stand up. Gilbert and Belinda liked their freedom, but it was about to be curtailed. He didn’t want to risk losing his goats to the big cat. In fact, the lion was going to have to be killed to ensure their safety.
Lance had been up for several hours, letting the goats and chickens out, filling their water troughs, and checking the land around the cabin. He counted himself lucky the cabin was so close to a mountain stream, making installation of his hand pumps easier. After the gully-washer last night, the waterway was swollen and the fishing would be poor. But Lance enjoyed its erratic clamoring as it rushed along.
As he wandered around, ‘the ladies’ followed him hoping for a handful of hen scratch. “Now, you go forage for yourselves,” he had admonished them. Lance had no trouble talking to his animals, preferring their companionship over human company any day. “You know the routine; I’ll feed you tonight. That’s what keeps you ladies coming back. It’s not my charming personality, that’s for sure.” He had chuckled as they continued in their hopeful pursuit. Eventually, they gave up and scattered into the trees, bobbing their heads and uttering their creaky-door sounds. The ducks forged their own path and headed for the stream, as usual. Lance planned to butcher them at first snowfall rather than feed them through winter. He enjoyed a roast duck dinner several times a year.
Later, as Lance strolled down to Old Reliable, he took note of the chill in the air, a chill that told him winter was crouching right around the corner.
Chapter 11
Brook was used by Jase and Benny several times during the morning and afternoon of her third day in captivity. Pete, thankfully, only watched now and didn’t participate. She also noticed he didn't encourage Jase and Benny anymore. Brook figured he was simply deflated because he had gotten a talking down from Gina, and Brook was thankful for even that small relief. Defeated, she lay without fighting, knowing she couldn’t stop them, and also knowing they would hurt her more if she resisted. She was afraid of being beaten, and she was terrified Jase would make good on his threats and pull her teeth out or cut off her feet. Between the rapes, she sobbed quietly. She tried again to think why this should be happening to her. How had she ended up here? Had she simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time? Or was it something more sinister? She had asked herself these questions repeatedly since she had been taken, and still she had no answer. Though God seemed to have forsaken her, she still prayed.
As Jase abused her, Brook lay motionless, giving the man nothing to enjoy; although, he didn’t seem to care whether she moved or not. He didn’t even bother to taunt her anymore.
Once Jase had left the room, Brook let her thoughts wander. She recalled the morning Clark had asked her to pick up the book. Her mind wouldn’t let go of the fact he had
