Chapter 5

When the thin, wiry man was through with her, he fell asleep, and she looked at the window at the other end of the room. It was a means of escape if she cared to try it. But that would leave her husband and baby here, and now she had the girls to worry about, too. No, this wasn't the time to try to escape. If the time was going to come, it would be later, when she had a good chance of making it, of getting help. Just to run off kind leave the others here would be desertion. Besides, she wasn't sure the man next to her was really asleep. He could be testing her. If he was as smart as he looked, as crafty, then she didn't think he was likely to be taken unawares by a dash for a window, and an open field beyond.

So she lay still, looking at the ceiling, thinking that until last night she had only known the love-making of one man, and that had been her lawful husband. Now she had been ogled by three men, and had slept with two of them.

"Slept with." That was a fraudulent term, she thought, a euphemism. And this wasn't the time for polite euphemisms. This was the time, for being honest with herself. She bad been screwed by two men while her husband sat on the living room floor, tied and slowly starving to death. She had--had blown one of the men. And the other would, no doubt, get around to ordering that particular service. She would provide it when that time came. There was no way out of it.

Her thoughts moved on to the girls. Poor little Connie. It would have been bad enough for any woman, being straddled by that animal. But for a girl like her, innocent and young, and without anything to go on, any prior experience to help her through, it must have been unbearable. She wondered whether the girl would ever recover. Julie had read about cases where the girls never got over the experience, never learned what sex really was, what it could and should be.

Then she thought about Sally. She supposed Sally was--had been--a virgin, too. The girls were giving it away early nowadays, she had heard, but that was something she doubted in Sally's case, and anyway, sixteen was really early.

So she had gone into that bedroom with Max as a virgin, in all likelihood, and she would come out minus her maidenhead and girlish illusions.

Well, it wouldn't be as bad for her as it has been for her friend, Connie. At least Max looked and sounded human. He hadn't really been cruel to Julie, and there wasn't any reason to believe he would be cruel to Sally. In fact, if a choice had to be made, Sally had done better in the trading than she had. Pete was a virile man, but he was no Max. He didn't have any imagination. To him the sex act was just a matter of climbing on, banging away for a while, and climbing off.

The import of her own thoughts suddenly hit her, and she almost came upright in the bed with shock.

My God, she thought, what's happening to me?

Had she become so inured to rape that she could lie here in her bed and compare the men who had violated her as though she were paying them a stud fee?

There was a knock at the door, and the man next to her, Pete, answered instantly.

"Yeah?" The quickness of his answer told Julie what she wanted to know. His slumber had been simulated. He wasn't a man to be fooled easily. She made a mental note not to underestimate him when the time came to escape.

"You all through, lover boy?" Max's voice came through the door, muffled and thick. "I'm taking my little cunt into the kitchen to get something to eat. Why don't you and yours join us?"

"Yeah. I could use something to eat, at that." Pete swung his feet over the edge of the bed and stood. He looked down at Julie meaningfully, and she got up and put on her robe, holding it about her with one hand while she pulled the covers up with the other. "Fuck that," he said, pulling on his pants. "Get your ass in the kitchen."

Sally was already there, staring into the refrigerator at the food. Julie walked up beside her, thinking to comfort the girt, and laid a hand on her shoulder. Sally looked at her for a moment, and then reached into the refrigerator and pulled out a quart of milk. Julie was surprised at the clear, focused expression in Sally's eyes. She looked as though something had happened to her, but the shattered, lost expression Julie had expected wasn't there at all. Her sister seemed quite in control of her faculties.

They started to fix some pancakes, and Pete went into the living room to get Butch. The two of them came back a moment later, Pete carrying the two guns and Butch carrying Jim in his arms like a baby. Connie was with them, clutching the robe around her neck and waist. She had the kind of expression Julie had expected from Sally. She looked lost, as though the fabric of her mind had been torn to shreds. Butch had the same grin on his face, and she wondered if the bastard had been at her again.

They prodded Connie, and finally Max slapped her, and she came out of her shock enough to help set the table. She moved slowly, and her coordination was poor. Her eyes were vacant.

They all ate like field hands. Julie found, with a feeling of annoyance, that she was hungry. The smell of the food set her stomach to growling, and Max and Jim looked at her and laughed. Butch laughed, too, but he was probably only doing so because they were. His face looked like a huge swollen baby's, except for the beard that was sprouting there. He sat at the table and speared the first stack of pancakes for himself. Pete looked annoyed, but Max laughed.

"Hell, let him have them. He's bigger than we are. He needs more. Besides, there's plenty for everyone." Julie couldn't resist throwing a look toward Jim, trussed on the floor. He hadn't eaten anything since the party the night before. And that damned gag had been on him for--how long? She tried to count back, but her bran wouldn't function.

When the men had eaten their fill, they sat back and lit cigarettes. Jim's cigarettes, she thought, and hers.

"Okay," Max said. "Now the ladies can have a bite. Sit down, girls." It was a big table, with room for everyone.

"I don't want anything," Sally said. Max looked at her with a languid expression.

"I think you'd better eat something, sweety. You're going to need your strength for the night ahead." Sally flushed a deep crimson, but nothing more. Julie felt a sense of disappointment at the girl's lack of reaction to the situation, to what had happened to her. It must have happened. And a decent girl just didn't take things that casually.

"What about my husband?" Julie asked. "He hasn't had anything to eat since last night."

"Yeah, I know." Max seemed to consider the request for a moment. "What do you think, Pete? How was Julie in the sack? Did she do her duty? Was she a nice girl?"

"Yeah, she was all right."

"Well, then, maybe we can spare some food for Farmer Brown here. We'll make that our standing procedure. If wifey is nice in the sack, hubby gets a meal. If she gets high and mighty, he goes hungry. How does that sound to you?"

Pete laughed aloud, almost choking on cigarette smoke.

"Shit, Max, you can sure come up with the good stuff," he said, and laughed again. This time he did go into a fit of coughing. Max turned to Julie.

"How about you, baby? You're the one who wants us to feed the guy. What do you think of my idea?"

Julie felt her throat constrict painfully. She didn't think she could manage to answer Max. She knew Jim was staring at her back, and she didn't have the nerve to turn around and look at him.

"Well?" Max asked, obviously enjoying himself. "What do you think? It's up to you."

"All right," she said. The words came out in pieces, broken and jagged.

Max simulated a frown. "Now, what do you mean, all right?" He smashed his cigarette in his plate and shoved the dish aside. "Do you think it's a good idea or not?"

"Yes, sir." Her voice was even more uncontrolled this time.

"Yes, sir, what?"

"Yes, sir, I think it's a good idea."

"You going to do your best to see that hubby eats regularly?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well, you'd better. Because I'm going to keep posted with Pete here. And maybe he and I will trade off from time to time if he's willing, just so I can see that you're doing your duty." He beamed at her for a moment, grinning with delight at her humiliation, then waved his hand toward Jim. "Go ahead. Two pancakes. Nothing more. I don't want him to get to feeling too good, and think he should try something. That would be too bad for him. And for your kid. Besides, food isn't inexhaustible in our present situation, and I don't want to run out because he's got the appetite of a growing boy. Pete and Butch and I come first. You and the girls come second, because you have a useful purpose."

"That's no shit," Pete said.

"If there's anything left over, Farmer Brown gets it. Understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"Okay, go ahead."

Julie took a clean plate down and put two pancakes on it. She buttered them and took a fork and sat on the floor beside Jim. His expression was unreadable. Julie took the gag out of his mouth and held up a forkful of pancake. Jim kept his month shut and turned his head away. Julie was between Jim and the others, and they couldn't see the turning of his head. She felt tears well tip in her eyes at the rejection. Leaning close to his ear, she whispered, "Please, darling. If we're going to get away from these people, we have to keep up our strength as much as we can."

He looked at her with an expression of surprise, and, she thought, just a bit more respect. He took the pancake this time. While he was chewing, Julie noticed his eyes sliding to the front of her robe, and she realized that it was slipping down. She had pulled it closed before sitting on the floor, and had tried to assume a position that would tend to hold it in place, but it was hard. One breast peeked out, pink-nippled, and she saw the look of pain in his eyes at the reminder of what she had been doing for these men. Hastily, she pulled the robe closed. She took the fork off the plate then, and gave him another bite of food. Julie heard a chair scrape, and Max came over in front of Jim and squatted down. He had his pistol in his hand. It was a huge thing, like Jim's Army gun, and it frightened her just to look at it.

"I don't think you two ought to be together like this without a chaperon," Max said, grinning. "You might get into mischief. And we wouldn't want that." He laid his hand on his knee, with the gun pointing in Jim's direction. "I sure do want to thank you, buddy, for being so generous. We were hungry, and you gave us your food. We were cold, and you gave us your house. We were horny, and you gave us your wife and these two very pretty girls as prick fodder."

"How long do you think you can get away with this?" Jim asked coldly. Julie had to admire the steadiness of his voice. He had always been a brave man. Much braver than she was. Now she had to be the one to make certain that bravery didn't get them all killed.

"Well, now, I suppose I'll just have to wait and see how long we can," Max answered. "We seem to be doing all right so far. I don't think the cops can come searching through every farmhouse in the county, or the state. We've crossed quite a few counties."

"I wasn't thinking of the cops. People are going to start to miss us, you know. You can't keep us here forever without someone getting suspicious."

"No, I guess we can't. But the thing is, we have this lovely little wife of yours, and she's just too fucking cooperative for words. And she's going to head people off, baby, because if she doesn't we're going to start whittling down the numbers in this house, starting with your baby and working up in age until we reach you. Now, your sexy blonde wife knows that. That's why she's so cooperative. You better learn to be just as nice, pal."

Jim had turned a little pale at the mention of the baby, but now his face hardened, "If you hurt that baby, I'll--"

"You'll sit there and watch, and either cuss at us or make noises in your gag. That's what you'll do, papa, so the time to protect your baby is now, not later. Even if you manage to get loose, which isn't very likely, we have guns. Do you have a gun? Do you have anything besides your two good, strong hands? Now, I just don't think all your indignation and noble intentions, and the face that you have right on your side, is going to do much against a two hundred and thirty grain slug from this, or a blast from that shotgun. That's a very nice shotgun, by the way. Pete is grateful to you for it. It's his favorite weapon, a twelve gauge. He can make one talk, he tells me. I've never seen him use one, but I suppose he'd be happy to give me an exhibition any time I give the word. Shall I do that now?"

Jim just looked at him without saying anything. Max took the plate out of Julie's hand. "You're a little too sassy, friend. I think you need a few more days fasting to calm you down."

"Oh, please," Julie said, "he can't hurt you, tied up like that, What kind of a man would he be if he didn't get mad at you now?"

"It's what kind of a man he is that worries me, Julie, baby," Max said. "I think he's a very brave man, and maybe a smart and tough one, and I can't see any reason to take chances on him."

"Neither can I," Pete said from the table. He had been sitting with the shotgun across his lap, and now he got up, the gun moving to cover Jim. "I can't see why we need him around at all. The women, sure. But not him. I say let's blow him in two, and that'll show everyone else we mean business."

He moved closer, and his thumb moved something on the shotgun with a click. Julie felt her breath quicken, and she got up, struggling with her robe. She tried to move between the gun and Jim, but Pete swept her to one side and leveled the gun at Jim. Jim looked up at him, and there was a tightening of his face and a quickening of his breathing, because it was obvious that Pete meant what he said. Max dropped the plate of pancakes and put his hand on the barrel of the shotgun. He pushed it toward the floor.

"Not now," he said.

"Why the fuck not?" Pete tried to pull the gun out of Max's hand. "He don't serve no purpose here. He's just something we have to watch, something that could fuck us up if we're not careful."

"He serves a purpose," Max said.

"Yeah? What?"

"You just saw. Blondie here was willing to fuck herself into a coma just to get him something to eat."

"She'll fuck anyway, just to keep from getting her own ass blown apart."

"Maybe she will. Maybe. But how do we know that? And even if she will, she'll have less reason to be cooperative with us when he's dead. We'll have one less hostage. Understand?"

"Bullshit. We got the guns, we got the muscle. Nobody's gonna try nothin' while we're in a position to blow their asses off."

"Maybe not, but how about the other stuff? Julie told me about her sister coming. She'll play ball with us all we want, but we have to have something to hold over her head. This is her husband, and she'll do whatever she has to keep him alive. Won't you, sweety?" he asked, turning his eyes to Julie.