Chapter 20
The wind shifted and gusted through the hut. There was a flash of lightning
followed by the distant roll of thunder. I sleepily became aware of an
approaching storm. The fresh cool breeze played across our intertwined
slumbering forms.
Jennifer stirred, took a deep breath and curled deeper into the crook of my
arm. Either Brittany or Kimberly's lushness was tightly pressed against my back.
I could feel the strong beat of her heart. I gently rolled over. It was
Kimberly. I slid a hand up her side to her breast. Filling my hand with its
fullness I ran my thumb across a fat nipple. The lightning flashed again and our
eyes met.
She moved into me, gripped my erection and began a slow pumping. "We will
need to be quiet and not wake the girls," she whispered.
I pushed her to her back and mounted her. We kissed and she guided me into
her silken heat. We made slow love, both attempting to muffle our passion. When
Kimberly came I placed my hand across her mouth and she bit me. Then minutes
later when she came again I followed her. We kissed and silently screamed into
the other's mouth.
Afterwards I disentangled myself from various female limbs, took her by the
hand and stepped outside to observe the coming front. It was a dark cloudy night
full of churning movement and electricity. We walked to the surf line and
watched a majestic war of Gods on the far horizon.
We stood at the edge of the world. Shallow spent waves swirled around our
feet as the tide crested and ebbed. Silently we held the other and both felt a
new wholeness.
Taylor, Jennifer and Brittany had left early that morning to go hunting,
leaving Kimberly behind. It was evident that her talents were more domestic than
hunting. She was finishing a large mat she had working on for several days. It
was her most ambitious undertaking in that it was the joining of two large mats.
She planned to fill the cavity with soft grasses. She knew it would be much more
comfortable than the flat mats they used now.
She enjoyed the near meditative state she reached while weaving. In this
frame of mind she was able to gain a detached perspective of the island life.
Kimberly had come to appreciate her time alone.
She had grown into her new responsibilities and place in the social structure
gaining self-satisfaction in being submissive. Pleasing Taylor gave her a deep
pleasure.
Even acts she once would found degrading now thrilled. She thought that was
the key to her enjoyment. Before with Andrew Holt there had ultimately been no
love, only taking. It was the love that made the difference. She thought that
was the key to her enjoyment.
Taylor still delighted in making Brittany and her perform. She wouldn't tell
him she had come to enjoy it. As for her little sister she always anticipated
sex and did not seem to care with whom.
She had come to enjoy performing cunnilingus. Jennifer had slowly stopped
being so cruel and had even started reciprocating pleasure when they made love.
Kimberly smiled woefully and moved her jaw back and forth. "Thank God for that,"
she thought to herself, "the little minx nearly wore out my face."
Her relationship with Taylor had deepened beyond the two younger girls. There
was empathy between them related to their ages. Taylor seemed to seek her
company when he was in camp.
He was an amazing lover and wanted her constantly. Yesterday he had made love
to her three times. He had been powerfully demanding and she had been completely
overwhelmed by his passion. At the memory her fingers fumbled and she had to
pause and take a deep breath.
She felt unspoken warmth in their relationship. Giving herself to him was as
natural as the life they lived here. She had found her Lord and Master and for
once in her life she was truly happy.
She heard footsteps approaching and was surprised at the hunter's early
return. She turned to greet them. An armed young man stood above her. He was
dark skinned but with oriental features. He brought up his gun and set the
barrel between her breasts. He grinned.
We had found the necessity to hunt farther and farther from our base camp as
the game became more aware of our threat. The porcine rodent animals had become
scarce and for red meat we had to hunt other primates. The monkeys would now
start a shrieking alarm at the first sight of us and then rapidly disappear into
the distant canopy. We had correspondingly adapted and now split up. Jennifer
would hide in ambush with her spear and Brittany and I would circle to drive the
prey toward her.
This hunting took more time, effort and patience. On this day it was early
afternoon before we were satisfied with our catch. We were approaching the camp
from the jungle when the leading Jennifer halted and held up her hand and
signaled caution/quiet.
Brittany and I immediately froze and listened. Then I heard the faint sounds
of sharp foreign voices. The three of us blended into the foliage and crawled
silently to the proximity of the camp.
The alien sight of the intrusion of strangers in our world was jarring to my
sense of order. Two armed partially uniformed men were standing over a prostrate
and cowering Kimberly. Both men held AK-47s at an attentive ready-arms position.
Then a third stepped from the hut. The group had an air of menace about them and
I felt the hairs stand on the back of my neck. I instinctively shrank lower into
the underbrush as this individual methodically scanned the beach and then the
jungle.
The still smoking campfire had evidently been the draw for these visitors. I
saw their means of arriving beached in the surf. It was an ancient looking
patrol craft. The bleached and chipped painted insignia on the bow was
unfamiliar to me.
The men had a swarthy oriental look to them. The darkness of their skin
suggested Polynesian but they were too short and slender for that race. Their
faded khaki uniforms were worn and mismatched.
My attempt of national origin determination was abruptly forgotten when the
evidently senior member of the trio barked a guttural question at Kimberly and
then brutally kicked her in the ribs. The other's laughed as the naked beauty
twisted in agonized pain at their feet.
I heard one of the girl's gasp and I turned my head to see a rising Brittany,
drawing her machete and poising to charge to the rescue.
I made a nearly inaudible hiss. Brittany jerkily rotated her head toward me.
Her eyes were dilated and wild with angry fear. I shook my head in an urgent
negative fashion and motioned her down. The expression on her face changed to an
anguished dismay as she realized the futility of a rescue attempt against the
heavily armed men.
I motioned for the girls to fall back. We regrouped minutes later in the
depth of the jungle. Brittany was nearly hysterical with a frantic anxiety. I
held her trembling form in my arms and whispered for her to take "deep breaths"
and "that right now her sister needed her to be very brave"
I had improvised a quick plan if for no other reason than to give the girls
something to focus on. It was very simple. We needed to wait until dark to make
our move. I frantically weighed our options and attempted to think out a plan.
Against the evidently trained and heavily armed soldiers we had no immediate
chance that I could see.
I was glad the two young girls obeyed me. I hoped their survival learning
would hold true. I had a terrible premonition that the next few hours would be
awful. Drastic or rash action must be held in check until we had an opportunity
to rescue Kimberly.
With coming darkness we had split up and approached the camp from two
different angles. I had over emphasized my strict order "that no matter what
happened in that camp they were to do nothing until I signaled."
That was my new plan. I wanted to somehow draw the soldiers from Kimberly
toward me and give the teens a chance to come in from behind and grab her. It
was a dangerous move but all I could think of.
The next hours built into an eternity of horror. This trio was not on any
kind of official mission. It appeared to be some kind of drunken overnight
misadventure and the finding of Kimberly was just added fun. The men had been
drinking heavily since I had first seen them. Their demeanor had grown
progressively uncontrolled and frightening. They had initially attempted to get
their new "guest" to drink with them by forcing what by Kimberly's resulting
reaction was a vile liquid down her throat. Bored with this they had used their
fists on her. Then when all she could do was lie in a cowering ball at their
feet, they kicked her. Then they raped her one after another.
Kimberly's tormentor's needs were beyond simple lust. They seemed to have a
raw animal hatred for her. They were not be satisfied with having passive sex
with a completely subdued woman, but seemed more excited if she struggled. As
time past they were becoming more inventive in their attempts to goad a reaction
from her.
I lay helpless in the darkness. These "soldiers" had a degree of military
training. Their weapons hung loosely "at ready" from their shoulders. I knew the
way they habitually touched and checked the positioning of their piece meant
familiarity.
Finally the more senior of the trio had become bored with the fun. Earlier in
the light I had seen him carefully scan the jungle several times. I was sure he
was suspicious Kimberly was not alone. But as he had gotten more intoxicated his
caution had faded. He had laughingly encouraged his younger charges to continue
and taking a bottle in one hand and his weapon in the other had headed into the
dark hut. I saw him enter the doorway and immediately collapse to our mats. As
time slowly passed I realized he was certainly out cold in there.
The two remaining men had grown bored with their worn-out source of
amusement. One leaned his AK-47 against a palm, picked up a bamboo pole from our
building material and flexed it. He laughingly told his comrade something. The
other looked up from urinating and yelled back. The first approached her and
using his foot he rolled Kimberly over to her stomach.
"Oh, shit," I said.
He began roughly poking the bamboo between Kimberly's buttocks as he
attempted to find her anus. She was not unconscious and she responded by crying
and attempting to squirm away from the intrusion. The other man had approached
and placed his foot on her neck, driving her face deeply into the loose sand.
Her struggles grew frantic as she was suffocated.
I had found a perfectly rounded stone in the streambed months ago and kept it
aside in my pouch because of its heft and symmetry. During the past hours I had
tightly held this golf ball sized rock in my sweaty palm as I lay impotently in
the darkness.
I realized the time had come and made my decision.
I fit the stone in the slingshot's pouch and I checked my machete on my belt.
I arose from the darkness and walked purposively into the firelight. As I
approached I brought the weapon up and pulled the sling taut. I steadily aligned
it the face of the one facing me. He was busy grinding Kimberly's face deeper in
the sand. I wanted to get as close as possible for the surest shoot I could get.
My feet swished in the sand. He looked up. His slack grin changed to alarm and
he reached down to the ready automatic weapon at his side.
My months of hunting had paid off. I unleashed the stone. There was a solid
TWACK of bone being pulverized. The stone was half buried dead center of his
forehead. His eyes bulged and collapsed down hard. The other soldier, busy with
his bamboo, looked up, saw his comrade and then twisted toward me. His misplaced
weapon was yards away. He lunged for it. Neither of us could gain purchase as we
scurried in the loose sand.
I thought for a moment of the similarity between the back of his head and a
coconut. That was just the way I used my machete to split his skull when I
caught him.
Not breaking stride I spun and ran back to the motionless Kimberly. I grabbed
a handful of her hair and pulled her head up from the sand. Her face was a mask
of sand. Frantically I dug the sand from her mouth. I reached behind her and
thumped the middle of her back. She coughed a spurt of sand and two frightened
big blue eyes opened on the blank sand face and looked at me. The weariness
softened as she recognized me. Then changed again to alarm, as she looked behind
me. I heard motion and had started to turn when the back of my head was hit with
blinding shock.
I realized I was lying down as a continuously and annoying hard rapping on my
forehead brought me up out of a black unawareness. I complained and opened my
eyes. The starry grayness of the night sky was filled with the huge vast black
hole of an AK-47 resting between my eyes. The remaining soldier stood above me
and screamed shrill commands as he scanned the jungle. He pushed the barrel hard
against my head and screamed again. I watched in a perverse fascination as his
finger whitened with pressure on the trigger.
Then his finger twitched and I thought I should be dead. But the sound I
heard had not been a retort, but an odd slap. The cold metal pressure against my
forehead fell away.
He grunted and I felt him fall next to me. I turned my head and we looked
into each other's eyes. I noticed he had sand grains on his iris. His tongue
slowly protruded from his teeth and he coughed out a spray of blood. He blinked
and was dead. I closed my eyes.
The sun was coming up. The headache I had kept bringing me out of a blessed
state of unconsciousness. I turned my head and saw the furrow in the sand were
the girls had dragged me to the hammock. Three dead men where clustered at the
point where the trail began. The officer was twisted in an odd position.
Jennifer's spear transfixed his back and continued out a foot from his chest and
into the sand.
"We found some aspirin in the boat." Kimberly told me as she held out some
white tablets. I gulped down the pills and took a drink of water. I heard them
discussing a radio and the slow realization dawned on me that the craft had a
short wave. I heard Brittany telling Jennifer it was just like her dad's "CB".
I felt a cool caresses on my forehead and turned my face. Kimberly was
peering into my eyes. Her left eye was swollen shut, her nose was probably
broken and when she smiled I could see a bad laceration on her lip "Hey hero."
She said softly. "They almost got us didn't they?" She laid her head on my chest
and as I felt her tears on my skin.
The excitement in Jennifer's voice made me look up. "I am talking to someone
in English!" She was screaming in joy.
A moment later Brittany came running up and asked me "What kind of boat is
the Kitty Hawk?"
I started to laugh. "You girls had better be ready to go native. Start
gathering grasses for skirts. The way you look now might cause a mutiny." I
continued to laugh. It made my head pound but I couldn't stop.
"What is so funny?" Brittany quizzically asked me. "Oh I was just wondering
were we would find a coconut in a big enough cup size to fit your sister," I
choked.
