Chapter 10 The entourage pulled up in front of the high school, loud honking notifying everyone in the area that they were there.  It was frightening as Lynn watched men and women come scurrying from all over, gathering around the truck. They pressed against the sides, peering in as if at two wild animals. She could imagine what they were seeing, what she had seen in the back of the truck—two terrified human beings. But that's not what they saw, was it?  They saw sin and evil and the devil alive and well. She and Britney stood away from everyone, hugging one another, tears streaming down both faces. "Mom, what can we do?" "Nothing, Brit, it's over. If they are *very*  lucky, someone from the outside will come before it's too late." Britney looked at her sharply, "Too late? What's that mean?  Too late for what?" Lynn sighed, "That boy Justin can't take much more and they seem to have focused on him. I hope he has the strength to hang on." "Die? Could he die?" the young woman whispered desperately. Her mother nodded briefly and shook her head in a gesture that asked why they could be so cruel to this child. Britney buried her face in her hands and began to sob. Lou parted the crowd with a low growl. "All of you. Go get everybody and bring `em here. Whippin's at noon. Walter, you and Fist, Curly's best friend, take all four of them to the back room while we get organized. And Fist, I want Curly alive. Keep your hands off him." "Can I have the other one?" Fist asked with a lewd look at Lance. Lance flinched and he knew Fist enjoyed seeing him squirm as Lou shrugged his assent. "The women?" Fist wanted to know. "Just watch them. They're going to be guests of honor on the stage." With that the four were dragged off, Justin carried, his bare feet scraping behind him. The two men holding him dropped him to the floor where he remained ominously still. Lance started toward him, but was pulled back by Fist. "Not so fast, Blondie," he sneered. Lance couldn't meet the man's gaze. "Please, just let me see if he's ok." The older man stared in disbelief. "You *are*  kidding, aren't you? Just get your cute ass over here and drop your pants." Britney and Lynn stood just inside the doorway, forgotten players in this drama. Their horrified faces reflected their understanding of exactly what Fist intended to do. They wanted to hide, to spare Lance the humiliation of having them witness his rape, but there was nowhere to go. Lance knew that.  His look begged them not to watch, to spare him that.  Lynn's eyes darted wildly, searching for something else to focus on, to keep them occupied, to shut out the sight if not the sound. She went to Justin, dragging a dazed Britney by the hand and leaned over him, gently touching his cheek. He flinched but his eyes didn't open as she moved her hand slowly down until it rested on his neck, on the purple bruises that marred the delicate skin of his throat. She felt the pulse there, strong and steady and sighed in relief. Thank God he was young and healthy. His body would survive but what about his spirit? Without warning, he opened his eyes and the look of pain and anguish she saw in their depths frightened her. She reached for his cheek again and this time he leaned into her gentle caress, accepting the offered kindness. "Where's Lance?" he whispered. "He's right over there," she responded, gesturing to a corner that she was deliberately blocking from his sight. "But I don't think you should look." He studied her face and knew what she was trying to tell him, but that same urge that had driven Lance to watch Justin now took hold of the younger man.  He needed to feel the connection, he needed Lance to feel his presence.  He pushed gently and she moved aside, allowing him to see Fist above Lance driving himself in unmercifully. Lance's eyes were closed and his cheeks were wet with useless tears, small sounds of pain coming in rhythm with Fist's strokes.  Justin uttered a strangled cry and curled into a fetal position, sobbing silently, never taking his eyes from the horrible scene. Lynn heard Britney's gasp as she followed Justin's gaze and saw Lance, his rape forever imprinted on her memory.  The young woman sat back on her heels and buried her face in her hands. She had been clear that the boys had been beaten but she had been too innocent to suppose that these men would sexually assault them as well. These same men that talked about religion and God and homosexuality as evil could force themselves on Lance and probably Justin as if they were not even human. She felt the rage inside her beg for release. She started to get up when she heard a sharp hiss from her mother, "No! Come here and take care of Justin. And don't look over that way again." She obeyed numbly and sank down near Justin. She smoothed back his unruly curls and wondered why they would torture an angel? The grunts and low moans from the other side of the room were the only sounds. Lynn held herself and rocked back and forth, praying Lance's ordeal would end soon. It seemed to go on forever. Then there was silence followed by an evil laugh, "Thanks, sweetheart. It's been a pleasure." She didn't turn around until the door slammed. Lance lay still, half naked just as that monster had left him, shivering from the pain. He tried to pull his pants up but with his hands tied, it seemed like a hopeless case and he was too tired and too hurt to care any more. He gave up the effort and closed his eyes. He felt her presence but the humiliation of what had happened kept him from acknowledging her. "Lance, let me help," she said so tenderly that he knew he couldn't hold back the tears. He nodded, still not opening his eyes. Gently she dressed him, the blood everywhere. When he was dressed, she pushed the hair back from his face and kissed his forehead. "Thanks," he said in a tortured whisper. She put out her hand to help him up knowing that he and Justin wanted to be together until noon. Lynn kept an arm around his waist as they crossed the room. Lance's cheeks burned with shame and he kept his gaze riveted on the floor. When they reached Justin, he lowered himself to the floor painfully and nodded to Justin, "Let me, Britney." Lynn watched in amazement.  After what he had just been through, he still cared only about Justin, pushing aside his own needs, ignoring his own pain and humiliation, needing to touch the younger man, to be with him. She relinquished her place to Lance and watched as he tenderly placed his lover's head in his lap. When Fist had withdrawn from Lance, Justin had shut his eyes, hoping to remove himself from the room, back into memories of a happier time, but Justin felt the familiar touch and his eyes fluttered open to meet the gaze of his lover. Lance was rewarded with a pale version of the smile that he lived to see. "Lance." The one word was said with a sigh full of love and need and Lance's heart filled with the sound. "Hi, baby," he said softly, "Go to sleep. It'll be over soon." "Promise?" the younger boy whispered, his voice shaky and childlike, begging for the reassurance that Lance could always provide. Lance responded by gently smoothing his curls until he felt him relax under his hands and his breathing even out. Lance continued to watch his lover, wondering that this beautiful creature was real, that he loved Lance, that he needed Lance. Lance felt eyes fasten on them and looked up to see the women contemplating the two men in front of them. He blushed, a half smile on his face. He was surprised to see unshed tears in their eyes and he cocked his head questioningly. "What?" Lynn couldn't speak. What had passed between them was so powerful, it took her breath away. She simply shook her head. Britney smiled at Lance, "You two are so awesome together. I hope I find someone to love the way you love Justin." Lance smiled shyly. Then he said sadly, "I wish everyone could see that we fell in love with each other because we were Lance and Justin not just two men. I wish you had met him before. He's so incredible— sweet and funny and romantic *and* sexy." Lynn knew what Lance was thinking, "He will be all that again, Lance. He's young and strong...." Lance interrupted her angrily, "No, he won't. His body will be marked, reminding him every day that people hate us for who we are. That people are willing to hurt us for who we are and that we can't hold hands or kiss or hug for fear of who is going to see us." He stopped and took a deep breath, "And it's all *my*  fault. He trusted me to protect him, to not let him get hurt. He was so innocent, he didn't know." Lynn's mother voice cut through his self-directed diatribe, "*You* didn't know either. How could anyone know how sick this town is? You would never have led him here deliberately. And you've been hurt, too. Stop blaming yourself." Justin stirred and his eyelashes fluttered. The deep blue pools met Lance's green ones and he said softly, "Lance, it's not your fault. Please don't do this. We have each other and they can't take that away." he sighed, the effort of speaking tiring. "Please, just love me.  I love *you*." "I do, Curly, I do." And he held Justin, the love right there in the tender embrace. The room became silent. Lynn drew Britney into her arms and hugged her daughter, her own love needing expression. She closed her eyes and prayed that it would all end soon. The peace ended with a bang as the door flew open and five men entered the room. The miasma of hatred surrounded them like a dense fog and seeped into the four souls waiting for their next move. Lou stood over Justin and Lance, "Time, boys, and then after, we'll dump your asses out of town and you can go back to fucking yourselves silly. Get up!" Lance tried to edge out from under Justin but the bastards weren't in the mood for gentleness. They hauled Justin to his feet, ignoring his cries of pain, his injured rib spiking agony through his body as he was dragged  toward the door. Lance, his own injuries hampering his movement, scrambled as quickly as he could to catch up, powerful arms keeping  him away from Justin. Once again they found themselves in the large hall and once again it was filled with people, all seemingly hungry to taste their pain. Lance desperately searched the faces seeking kindness and finding none, only expressions of disgust or gloating or some other vile emotion aimed at them like a loaded gun. Lance shuddered and turned his gaze to the floor. He couldn't bear to know that every person in the assembled group would nod approvingly when the first lash fell. He tripped up the stairs and fell to his knees. Slow to rise, one of the five kicked him in the ribs, his breath pushed out in a whoosh. Gasping, he struggled to his feet and made it to the stage where one of the men rid him of the rope on his wrists and replaced it with the chains that hung down from the ceiling. Justin was only half conscious. A red haze of pain filled his mind and he didn't have the strength to raise his head and look around. His simple prayer was that the torture end soon. Oh please, oh please, oh please beat the refrain in his head. His bare feet dragged as he was hauled onto the stage. Held up by the two men, his bonds were cut also, his arms raised above his head, and one wrist attached to each chain. The pressure on his shoulders was enormous but he couldn't make his legs hold him up so he hung there swaying. They faced one another, only inches apart. Lance's brain was clouded from the fear and the pain and he idly wondered why they had placed them that way but his mind wouldn't work so he gave up, realizing he would find out soon enough. Lynn and Britney were brought up to the stage and Lou swept his arm toward the two chairs where the boys had been only one the day before. Lynn bit her lip. She understood that they were so close that every sound, every spray of blood would reach them, forcing them to witness what they had hoped to escape. Lou faced the audience. "OK, folks, sorry for the delay. Your *neighbors* here, " he started, waving at Lynn and Britney, "decided to help these boys escape. What do you say?" The catcalls of "Traitor, Bitch, Fag lovers" began and got louder as one by one they all joined in, the volume overwhelming.  Lou raised his hands and asked for quiet and the room immediately became still. He turned to the Pearsons. "Guess you'll be joining the fag boys leaving town, eh?" Lynn refused to say a word and a glance at her daughter warned her to remain silent as well. Lou shrugged and turned back to the townspeople. "So what say we have an old fashioned whippin'?" The crowd's response was instantaneous. They clapped and whistled and jeered at the two boys. Lynn's gaze sought Lance's. As if he could feel her stare, he turned his head to meet her eyes. His green ones were so full of horror and fear, she almost got up to go to him. She hoped that the look of compassion that she held out to him would be some tiny bit of comfort in this hate-filled atmosphere. It was only a minute but it seemed like forever until the noise stopped again and Lou reached down and hefted the whip into his meaty hands. As he snapped it in the air, both boys flinched and the two women shut their eyes tightly. Noticing, he came and stood before Lynn and Britney, "Every time you close your eyes, I'll add one more to the twelve they each get. So it's thirteen now. Get it?" They nodded. He took his position behind Justin and let the first lash land on Justin's back. Lance now knew why they were facing each other. The blow had driven Justin into Lance and he could feel Justin's shudder in his own body, Justin's scream vibrating through him. Lou coiled the whip and moved behind Lance. Lance tried to brace himself but there was no way to prepare for the pain as the lash created a river of blood on his back. He tried not to fall into Justin but it was futile, the force of the blow causing him to stagger. Vaguely he heard the assembled mob shout "One!" Dear God, could they really live through twelve more of these? Another bite of the whip landed on Justin, his eyes opening wide, all the horror of the past two days captured in them. Another scream, another shudder and then Lance again. Two! And so it went. Somewhere around six, Justin lost consciousness and hung there like a piece of meat. There were no screams, no shudders, only a slight twitch as his body still registered the blows. Lance himself was barely holding on, why he wasn't sure, but it did seem important to stay conscious. In the one small part of his brain not fogged by the pain, he prayed that Justin was still alive and would survive the rest of the punishment. After six or seven, Lance became aware of a disturbance at the back of the room. Up to now, the only sounds had been an appreciative sigh after each lash and the inexorable count. Forcing his eyes to focus, he saw men pouring into the room and spreading out along the rear. All he knew is that Lou had stopped the whipping. Suddenly, he heard a familiar voice. " Unchain them and put that whip down before I shoot you." Lou was not used to being told what to do, "Who the hell are you?" "I'm the one with twenty men with guns and I want you to cut them down. Now!" "Dad?" Lance whispered and blinked, sure he was imagining that his father was there to rescue them. Tears came in a torrent as he saw that his father was real. Nobody made a move to unlock the manacles. Lynn stood and went to Lou, who was standing there defiantly, daring the men to start shooting. "Lou, it's over. Give it up and let them go. Thank your lucky stars they didn't bring the police." Lou snorted, "You know there's no cop in Mississippi who'd help fags. I ain't worried about that." But he did look at the ring of very large men with guns who did not seem averse to using them. "Shit, take the little pussies. We've taught `em a lesson." He produced a key and unlocked the cuffs. Lynn tried to catch Justin but as dead weight he was too heavy and all she could do was break his fall. Lance fell to his knees and crawled to Justin. He looked at Lynn with trepidation, "Is he....?" Her fingers had found his pulse and although it was beating fast from the pain, it was strong and steady. She smiled, reassuring him "No, just unconscious." Lance lay his hand on Justin's chest and sobbed. Then he was drawn into his father's loving embrace, gasping as his father's loving arms touched the deep welts but not wanting to let go. Britney moved to her mother's side. She was paralyzed by what she had witnessed and needed her mother's comforting presence. When she felt that warm hug, she began to sob. Lou turned to them with disgust. "Get the hell out of here with your fag friends and don't come back." It was more than Jim Bass could tolerate. A normally quiet man, his rage exploded and releasing Lance, he launched himself at the self proclaimed leader, "You bigoted son of a bitch." His fist connected with Lou's jaw and the older man went down. "Get up and fight, you bag of shit." Lance simply stared at this openmouthed. His father never swore, never fought. Lou apparently recognized a man out of control because he stayed down."Take them and get outta here." Reaching into his pocket, he tossed Lance's keys on the floor. "It's out front. Their shit is in it." As soon as his father released him, Lance sank to the floor and gathered Justin into his arms. The younger boy's face registered the pain triggered by the touch but he was too close to total unconsciousness to even moan. His eyelids fluttered briefly but it was obvious that it was too much effort to open them and focus. He sighed and let his head seek the comfort of Lance's chest. Jim Bass knelt down and touched Justin's curls gently and then met his son's eyes, tears threatening both of them. "He'll be ok, Lance, " he whispered. "Dad, you have no idea what they did to him. I don't know if he'll *ever*  be ok." "He'll be different, that's for sure, but he'll be stronger, wiser, smarter. You'll see. Life can be a harsh teacher but if you learn, it turns out for the best." Lance shook his head at his father's optimism. Less innocent, less sweet, less trusting, less open—that's what Lance saw in Justin's future and by connection, his own. Lance sighed, "Whatever. Right now he needs medical help." He heard the sound of the siren approaching and sat back on his heels to wait, stroking Justin's cheek and murmuring loving words meant to soothe. continue menu