Chapter 2

There had been a few times when she thought she was going to pass out. Wondering whether she could really stand it. Wondering whether she could survive it as the same person. Julie still wondered about that. Had she remained the same person? She seemed to be. Things were a little out of focus right now, and she supposed she was in shock to some degree. Still, she seemed to be the same Julie who had walked into that bedroom a while ago.

So she had been raped. She had been possessed by an ape of a man who cared nothing about her except as a piece of flesh, an organism he presumably found attractive. It wasn't the kind of experience she would have chosen for herself, and it wasn't something she would recommend to other women, but she had lived through it. And her husband and baby were still alive. That had been her choice: whether to hold onto her honor, to use an old- fashioned term, or to let her family hold onto life. There hadn't been any contest. They were all in for a rough time, of course. And maybe this crew intended to kill them no matter what they did. At any rate, every extra moment they stayed alive was worth something. And those moments might lead to something.

They might lead to escape, or rescue. It was their job to stay alive, now, for as long as possible. And to help each other stay alive. If that meant that Julie had to go to bed with that slimy bastard then she'd have to find some way to live with herself afterwards. And with her husband, of course.

She found some bacon and eggs in the refrigerator and put on a Pot of coffee. The man who had just raped her, Max, sat in the kitchen with the rifle across his lap, watching her with a smile. The others remained in the living room, standing guard over Jim.

It was awkward, trying to work with one hand, while she held the robe closed with the other. Max sat and grinned at her attempt, and finally said, "I just fucked you, honey. And I'm going to fuck you again. Isn't it a little silly to be coy with me?"

He was right, of course. It was silly. But it was a link with decency, something that allowed her to hold on with her fingernails to the woman she had always been.

While the bacon was frying in its own fat, she thought about Jim. It had been rougher on him than on her, probably. No, she told herself. That was maudlin sentimentality. It hadn't been rougher on him than on her. But she had no doubt that it had been rougher than hell for all that. A man like Jim wasn't built for this kind of thing, this helplessness.

He was built for action, And right now action wasn't called for. That was why she had helped them, telling them where the rope was. Jim would have let them beat him to a pulp before he'd have bent that much. And that was foolish because they were in the driver's seat at the moment. The only tack that made any sense was to follow orders and offer no resistance until a chance came, if it did. Resistance at this point would only cause them all to be killed. And so, no matter how hard it might be on him emotionally, Jim was better off, they all were better off, while he was tied up and under guard.

She set the table, very much aware of his threatening nearness while she did it. It just wasn't possible to perform that job with one hand. The robe hung open, and Max grinned his appreciation at the sight of her body, exposed in front. It made her blush for a moment, but then Julie felt a surge of defiance. She walked back to the stove, and continued to work, leaving the robe to its own devices. But it was a poor way to show defiance. The bastard was enjoying it, and he knew how embarrassed she was. What kind of man was it, she wondered, who could enjoy a woman's embarrassment and humiliation, her disgust, the way a normal man would enjoy her pleasure?

Whatever kind of a man he was, he was better than the animal in the living room, with the body of an orangutan and a brain to match. It wasn't a very good position to be in, but Max was her White Hope, Her protector, and the protector of her baby.

"Do you want me to take the food in there to them?" she asked when it was ready. She had set the table without thinking.

"No, they can come in here. It's been a long time since any of us have eaten at a real, honest-to-God table. You go tell them it's on."

She closed the robe about her, holding it at waist and throat, and went into the living room. The big one grinned at her like a dumb animal, and the other didn't look much better.

"You better bring asshole here," he said to his anthropoid friend. Then Butch got up from the couch and hauled Jim to his feet. He picked him up again, the way he had done before, and they all went into the kitchen.

"Sit down, guys, enjoy yourselves," Max said.

"Our little hostess here is very generous. You wouldn't believe how hospitable she can be."

Julie thought she would die of humiliation. She felt the flush creep up from her neck, and she had to fight to keep from looking at Jim, Butch set him on the floor near the table, and in plain sight. They took places at the table and speared food from platters to their own plates. Butch ate like an animal, and Pete wasn't much better. Only Max, of the three of them, seemed to have been taught some kind of manners. He seemed a little more cultured than the others in a lot of ways.

They had her fetch and carry, and she had to cook more food for them, In the course of things she had to forget about modesty, The robe hung open, and she noticed Pete and Butch staring at her body as they had stared at the food when they first sat down. She made a half-hearted attempt to hold it closed again, but they had her jumping too fast, and she had the feeling that they meant it that way,

"You know," Pete slid when he had finished his third helping of bacon and eggs, "speaking of hospitality, I could use some of it myself. When are you gonna put the little lady up for grabs, Max?"

Julie felt something icy dash through her belly, and down into her legs. She had known that this moment would come, of course, but she had managed to keep from thinking about it so far. She stood stiffly, waiting to hear what Max would say.

"I'm not going to," Max said. He said it calmly, and with a touch of humor in his voice. Pete looked at him for a moment, and Butch even stopped eating and stared at him, too.

"Would you mind running through that again, old buddy?" Pete asked.

"I'm not going to share the blonde with you guys," Max said obligingly. He was smiling, apparently having a good time. But Pete didn't think much of his idea.

"We both been in stir as long as you have and longer, Max. If there's a woman to be had, I figure we're entitled."

"So do I."

"Talk sense, will you?"

"If there's just one woman available, I figure you're entitled to share her with me. But there's going to be more than one woman available. And since I'm the guy who planned this whole thing, I figure I've got a right to one of the women all for myself. I happen to like blondie here."

"That's just fine. Now where's the other woman?"

"She's coming tomorrow." As he spoke Julie couldn't help looking down at Jim, sitting on the floor. He stared up at her for a moment in surprise, and she thought she saw a touch of disgust in his expression. She wanted to say, I hod to tell him. I had to. What good would it have done to hold out on him? But of course she couldn't say anything to him. She looked away, at a blank spot on the wall.

"Blondie's little sister," Max went on. "She's coming to spend the summer here. So nobody is going to miss her. Not as long as we're going to be here, that is. I figure Blondie is mine, and the little sister is yours to share."

"You wouldn't shit your old buddies, would you, Max?" Pete asked quietly. "This wouldn't be something just so's you can keep the blonde all to yourself, would it?"

"Fuck no, I'd be stupid to pull something like that. We've got away clean so far because we've worked together on this escape. We've worked smoothly, you think I'm going to jeopardize something that important just to get private fucking rights with this cunt?"

"Okay," Pete said. "I guess you wouldn't at that. When did you say the new broad is comin'?"

"Tomorrow."

"I guess I can stand to do without a piece of ass for one more night," Pete said.

Julie started picking up the dishes. There was a strip of bacon left on the platter, and Butch grabbed it in his fingers and gobbled it down. He grinned at her like an ape. The sight of him made Julie queasy. And the conversation between Max and Pete sent a surge of panic through her. Rape would be horrible enough for Sally. But to be subjected to this animal! Sally was a young, sweet kid. She wouldn't be able to tolerate something like that. She'd lose her mind. Something had to be done to stop that from happening.

Don't kid yourself, Julie thought as she piled the dishes in the sink. What can you do to stop it? Sally is just going to have to take her chances.

"Don't bother to wash the dishes," Max ordered when she started to run hot water into the sink. "You can do that tomorrow. The night was made for other things."

Julie felt like crying, but she had cried enough tonight. There was a time to stop crying and learn to adjust to conditions. She nodded mutely, ignoring the snickers from the other two men. She kept herself from looking at Jim. He was still trussed up and in the same spot. He was looking at his own legs now, and she had the impression that he had withdrawn into his own mind a little.

Hugging the robe about her, Julie preceded Max from the kitchen to the bedroom. She turned down the bed at his command. Apparently they were to sleep together all night. She felt a weakness in her knees at the thought. The first encounter had been a brutal rape, in which she had been coerced into cooperating. This was too much like having an affair. It made bile rise in her throat to think of it, but, of course, she wasn't going to try anything. She was going to do as she was told.

She slipped under the blankets and slid over to the side of the bed against the wall. Max lay next to her, blocking her with his body. "If you have to get up for any reason during the night," he said, "you just tell me. If I catch you trying to get up while I'm sleeping, I'll slap the shit out of you. Understand?"

"Yes, sir."

He slipped his gun under the mattress on his side, where his weight would bear on it. As he put it there he looked at Julie meaningfully. The thought that she would make a try for the gun was such a weird thought it almost made her smile. She wouldn't know the first thing a out using it, and even if she could kill him with it, what good would it be? She wouldn't be able to get past those other two. And Max was her only protection from them.

Her belly was as tight as a drum now. She could feel the heat of his body next to her in the bed. She could feel little tickling sensations from his body hair as he moved against her in the normal course of settling down. Then he turned toward her and suddenly snapped the covers down, baring her clear to her knees. She gasped and started and lay completely still. She felt as though she would vomit from fear and embarrassment. Max grinned. "Come here," he said, holding out his arms.

It took her a moment to work up the nerve, but she slid toward him, coming to rest against his body. Their forms interlocked, and she could feel his bristly face against her cheek at the same moment that his belly, hard and muscular pressed against hers. Julie's breasts flattened against his massive chest. This was it. Now it happened again. His cock was stiff and erect against her, prodding one thigh.

Max kissed her, delving into her mouth with luxurious slowness, deliberate insolence. It was as though he were using the kiss to tell her that she was his property. His arms were around her, and his hands moved up and down her back and over her shoulders and her ass, squeezing and patting with pleasure.

It wasn't that she didn't still feel fear and disgust. She did. And it wasn't that she wouldn't have given almost anything to be able to get out of that bed, because she would have. But it was a physical sensation after all, Julie told herself, and something she couldn't help. She couldn't be blamed for that. You couldn't blame someone for a physical sensation over which she has no control.