Wild Boys: An Apocalyptic MM Romance Page 2

  Besides, inside he got to see Joey and that’s when he knew that there was something he wanted from life, something real—not like those footballers and film stars he tore out of the free newspaper and pasted in his journals. Joey was his dream, the light of his life and the very burning fire of his loins.

  Anyway it was hard to care about the collapse of civilization when he had Joey on his mind. If it really were the end. They mostly hadn’t believed Mr. Bill anyway. He was always seeing gloom and doom. It was part of some religion thing with him. He had only taken the job in the lockup because he thought it was secure against the end of the world chaos. ‘Never safer than in a prison,’ he would say with a laugh at them. They all hated him. No place worse every day, never mind the end of the world.

  Who knew it would actually happen?

  Even Mr. Bill, who had rehearsed for it most of his adult life, hadn’t been prepared for the real thing. In the monotony of the bars and concrete world they lived in, it was difficult to picture change. There were days of warnings and scares, when things seemed to be escalating. Scorching fire and strife across the globe, but none of it really seemed to be final. Things got bad and then things got better; it had always gone that way. Fresh disaster was always popping up on screens in the rec rooms and common areas—the screens that were now black and silent—but it didn’t seem any more real or true to them than all the movies that showed apocalypse and ruin. The world got rebuilt each time a new film started. Why not now?

  Crazy Mr. Bill had actively worked to make it happen, him and his friends. He was part of some survivalist cult. Sometimes he would give books or tracts to the boys, things the other guards would remove with scowls of annoyance. “You’re stirring up things, Bill,” the big man would say, clapping a great meaty hand on his shoulder. The gaffer had respect. He seldom flew off the handle but when he brought the hammer down, it generally stayed down. Bones were broken. “The boys have problems enough, don’t give them a cause.”

  But Mr. Bill had preached the end times and the need to protect the guns and the women. This was funny because there wasn’t a woman in miles and miles of this place, which was the whole point of locking up them as deviants, as he always told them.

  Nevertheless, the effects of the stories added up and the guards all became nervous over time. A few of them bolted to get home to families or something, though the way things turned out, there wasn’t much point in that. They all took it much more serious once the whole place was in clampdown. Even Digger, who didn’t care if he ever left, felt a bit jumpy because all the guards were so edgy. The nerves transferred to the boys and there were more fights and disturbances than there had been before. Mr. Bill vacillated between rubbing his hands with glee that the predicted end was finally upon them and at the same time getting a bit worried that he might be missing out on the best part of it, too.

  Then things got more real.

  The day the fire ripped through the younger boys’ side, Mr. Bill had been more stunned than anyone. Digger figured out eventually that it must have been because he thought he was safe here and the end times wouldn’t really touch him. He’d just planned to have a ringside seat, get to gloat and say he’d told you so.

  When the fire broke out, everything shut down. Alarms and sirens went off and everybody had to retreat to their bunks. They were eternally grateful that the guards were too busy to actually lock them in their cells or they would have been in a real pickle. All the guards but Mr. Bill went off to try to help with the fire. Digger could never tell if Mr. Bill was deliberately left behind or he weaseled out of his responsibilities. He was lazy as the day was long, yet felt entitled to have the best of everything. That day, however, he was just shaking and gibbering by the time night fell and no one returned and no signs of life could be detected from the other side of the great locked wall.

  Then Mr. Bill went off the deep end.

  It was Joey and Johnny that found Mr. Bill and stopped him from shutting everything down. He was running though the kitchen area, crying and impossible to understand, throwing switches, tearing at wires, and saying they would be dead soon anyway. All the screens in the rec room went black and silent. Not that there had been much to see on the few channels they were allowed, but the finality of losing that link unsettled them all. The little news they had inside hadn’t look good, but while there was life, there was hope.

  Or so Joey said when they all stared at him over their food. “We’re cut off, but we can survive. We’re all in this together, so let’s get along.” Johnny had stood beside him, not saying anything, but not fighting him either, which was something. He mostly looked angry, like the world ending was a particular inconvenience for him.

  “And what about Bill?” It was Tommy who asked first, though they had all been thinking it after seeing him getting crazier than a loon on his own. Mr. Bill was an annoying nutter but he was part of the system; the system locked them up, but its rhythms gave their life its shape. They hated it. Yet when it was gone, they felt adrift.

  “Bill is dead.” It was the first tangible sign of the apocalypse for them. He hung himself in the guard’s office using his own worn belt. It seemed mental: all that jonesing for the end of the world then taking himself out as soon as it finally arrived.

  Joey and Johnny took over the operations like they’d been appointed to the job, preparing for the day when the power finally stopped, getting all the moaning boys to fetch water from every possible spigot to save it in the storeroom, as well as putting in place rotating guards to keep everyone on the up and up. Johnny and Joey had done a lot of figuring about how to ration supplies so that no one felt too deprived. Everybody was in the same boat, so they were all good. And having something to gripe about kept them from inventing new problems for the most part, except for DD and his habit.

  The boys were cut off, no doubt about it, but they had a little freedom for the first time in weeks. For some of them, it was the first taste of liberty they could remember. Sure, they were locked in the 18s side of the prison, but ArachNed and Markie found the guards’ secret hangout which led to the roof room, a sort of turret that was probably meant for keeping watch on the perimeter. It wasn’t much—and there wasn’t much to see in the blasted landscape or the burned-out half of the building—but it was a luxury they’d been missing for a long time. For a while now, the wind on their faces had proved distraction enough. The world might be ending, but it was all play for them at the moment.

  There was a new vibe in the air today though, Digger could feel it. Joey and Johnny sat at the head of the table with their ‘brain trust’ as Joey always joked alongside them. The clever boys being ArachNed, who was good with gadgets and could fix up anything once he’d given it some study; Glen, who had read pretty much all the books he could get his hands on and kept a sort of library he managed to wheedle out of the guards; and Tommy, who had the ability to size people and situations up in a snap. He was the one who predicted Bill’s death before it happened. Everybody was sure he would be reveling in his element, but Tommy shook his head. He could see death in his eyes.

  Joey stood up, looking every bit the hero. Digger flushed. It wasn’t as if Joey could read his thoughts. He did his best to keep his face bland and neutral. It wouldn’t do to let everyone see his puppy-like adoration. If anything, Digger did his best to look scowly and disagreeable most of the time. No one paid any attention to him, because he was the smallest of them. Sid and Simon towered over him, while Johnny and Joey made him look ghostly and weak. It was almost like being invisible, which was the way he always had been.

  “We’re going to have to face facts, lads. The food and water isn’t going to last forever.”

  Johnny frowned up at him. “We’ll be lucky if it lasts another month at the rate we’re eating.”

  “I know, I’m getting to it.” He didn’t even seem ruffled by the interruption. That was part of what made Joey so cool. He never appeared to be the least bit bothered by anyone or anything. That cool
exterior was a large part of his appeal: the cool one. Digger had never been cool in his life. There’s no way Joey would ever notice him. He’d always watched from afar. How his fingers itched to touch those lips. Digger couldn’t help picturing them hip to hip.

  “What we really need,” Joey said, looking around the tables at the boys who were left, “is to get out of here and make our way to other people, or at least a city, where we can find more food and water.”

  The murmurs sprang up at once. Everyone had an opinion, but their mutterings didn’t really amount to anything but noise. When Joey raised his hands, they all quieted down. “We don’t have any guards leading us. It’s just us. We could argy back and forth about what to do, but it comes down to the same thing. We’re safe here for now, but it won’t last forever. Eventually, we’ll run out of food and water.”

  “I added some bins to the roof so we’ll get any rain,” ArachNed said, though his eager look quickly became crestfallen. “If it rains. I don’t think it’s rained much since The Collapse, but there’s dew. A little anyways.” He stared down at his crusts.

  “We’re going to have to figure out how to get out of here,” Joey said.

  The muttering started again. Some were not content to murmur. “You gotta be fucking joking, right?” Simon laughed. “We should wait here. Sooner or later someone’s going to follow up on the paperwork and find us.”

  “Fuck that noise!” Sid said, pumping his fist in the air so the anarchy tattoo on his arm was clear. “Let’s blow shit up and party!”

  Johnny smirked at him. “We may want to blow shit up, but only if it gets us out of here. We got layers of steel between us and freedom.”

  “Unless we can climb down off the roof,” Glen said with a thoughtful air. His dark eyes had a faraway look as he considered the problem.

  “We’d still be inside the walls,” Joey added, “but that’s a start. We need to be thinking escape. We need to think of all the different avenues that will get us out of here and into the wilds. And before we get stir crazy.”

  “I don’t think we should go anywhere,” DD said, rubbing his arms like he was cold, but it was probably just withdrawal. “Simon’s right. We should just wait here. Someone will come eventually. Out there, we don’t know what shit’s going on.”

  Digger looked around. Some nodded at that, but most of the guys seemed to be leaning toward the idea of escape. They were bored. Apart from Glen who had his books, they were mostly at loose ends, unable to entertain themselves without television and the internet. It was one of the things that kept Digger to himself. Other than the odd ones like Markie, who seemed to be in his own little world with his weird cards and strange rituals, the others mostly argued about sports, television shows and movies that they remembered or dredged up disagreements they had had with the guards or teachers or parents or whatever in the past. They just didn’t have the brains to entertain themselves and fights were breaking out more. They mostly stopped with raised voices, but fists were getting more popular.

  Digger looked over at Joey, who kept cool even though it was clear he was getting a bit nettled. “Sure, we can wait. Maybe someone out there is digging through paperwork, maybe someone somewhere says, hey, those lads we threw away because we thought they were worthless: let’s put them on the rescue list. We’ll be down there right after puppies, kittens, television presenters and baby snatchers.” Joey looked around the cafeteria.

  “So that’s what? Two years from now? Five? Ten?” He smiled grimly. “Our bones will be bleached nicely by then.”

  The boys were silent then.

  iii

  “We came up with a plan,” Johnny said, his voice suddenly taking on a sound of eagerness that it had not had before. “We figured the best way to get you lot to do something was to make it a competition.” The response was less than enthusiastic. They were all still thinking about those bleached bones. Digger found himself curious though, especially since Joey and Johnny looked rather pleased with themselves.

  “Yeah, we’re going to have teams. We’ll go head-to-head, as they say, trying to come up with the best plan to escape that actually works. No theoretical stuff, Glen.”

  Glen laughed, his white teeth looking bright against his brown skin. “Oh, but that’s what I’m best at. I’ve been reading The Count of Monte Cristo. All it takes is a spoon—and lots and lots of time!”

  Everyone laughed, but Digger could see the plan was having the effect Joey had hoped for. Things had shifted. The guys were turning the idea over in their minds and getting excited for the competition.

  “What’s the prize?” Simon asked. “If it’s a competition, there’s gotta be a prize. I’m not working for nothing.” He crossed his arms and gave Joey a challenging stare even as he laughed.

  Johnny lifted up a cardboard box. “This is the prize. We liberated it from the guard’s hideaway on the roof.”

  “What is it?” several boys asked at once.

  “A treasure trove to be sure,” Joey said with a wink at Johnny. “I know that most of you have been suffering from a certain affliction. The affliction that palls your imagination and without sufficient input to the brain you are left gormless and bereft.”

  “What the fuck you on about?” Sid asked, his brow furrowed.

  “Just your premium level box of wank mags,” Johnny said, whipping off the box top and pulling out a shiny publication that lay on the pile. It flipped open to a glossy page of a woman spread eagled, smiling as if there were nowhere she’d rather be. Digger flushed, feeling embarrassed, but the other guys all whistled and hooted and hollered, a couple jumping up from their chairs to get a closer look.

  Johnny hastily returned the magazine to the box and slammed the lid shut. “Now, this is primo stuff, largely untouched since we found it—”

  “Largely untouched?” Simon said with a frown, still eyeing the box as if he might develop x-ray vision.

  “There had to be a certain amount of testing to make sure the contents were as good as they looked,” Joey said with a cool air. “You gotta inspect the merchandise, don’t you?”

  The laughter that greeted this suggested it was so, but they were all itching for more. No one noticed that Digger hadn’t joined in the slavering hoots, though DD and Glen and a few others didn’t seem to be any more interested than he in the contents.

  “What all has it got?” Simon asked again, as if he were being asked to pay for the magazines out of his own pocket.

  “Greatest hits. It’s a bit of a grab bag, so to speak,” Joey said with a wink.

  “Yeah,” Johnny agreed, nodding his head. “Tits, arse, she-males, bondage, a little bit of everything. Eclectic, let’s call it. You won’t be disappointed. Something for the whole team, whatever side you play on.”

  “How are we choosing sides?”

  “If no one objects,” Joey said, casting his gaze around the room, “Johnny and I will be team captains since we thought of the plan. We can either choose teams one by one or we can do the counting thing, you know—evens, odds.”

  “I dunno, does that sound fair?” Simon shook his head.

  “You wanna be a leader?” Johnny asked him. “Go on.”

  “I didn’t say that,” Simon said, trying not to sound too hasty in backing down, like he always did. “Just, you know, what about skills and what not? Who knows stuff? Like Glen and ArachNed can’t be on the same team.”

  “Why not?” Johnny laughed. “I’d rather have strong dudes like you and Sid on my team anyway.”

  Sid jumped up and howled. “Word, my man. It’s a doggy dog world out there.”

  “Dog eat dog,” Digger muttered.

  Sid looked down at him. “What’d you say, runt?”

  “I said it’s ‘dog eat dog’ not ‘doggy dog’.”

  “You can have him, too,” Sid said with a laugh and went to stand by Johnny with Simon. Digger walked quietly to Joey’s side without saying anything at all or daring to look up. He didn’t expect much to come o
f it, but his heart sang anyway because he had an excuse to be near his idol.

  The boys ranged out on either side of the captains, choosing their own sides after all. Things were more or less equal in the end, though clearly the bigger boys had gone with Johnny and the clever ones with Joey, which included Digger, if he did say so himself. He might not be as book smart as Glen, but like ArachNed he had a knack for knowing some things that others overlooked. And he would do anything to help his idol, even lay down his life—though he’d rather just lay down with him.

  Joey shined in the spotlight, glad handing his team members as they kidded one another and babbled excitedly about the game.

  “We need team names,” Glen said, elbowing Joey.

  “We should be the Anarchy Pirates!” Sid proclaimed. “Anarchy! Anarchy!”

  Johnny shook his head. “We are going to be the Agents of Control.” Everybody knew that was the name of the band that Johnny had started on the outside. They had been poised for a breakthrough before he got locked up for crippling that boy with his guitar. His team all seemed to accept the name without a problem. They were all busy eyeing the box, ready to unwrap the contents as soon as possible.

  “What’s our name going to be?” Markie asked, squinting up at Joey. He was thin but wiry, and he had a weird kind of imagination that took leaps ahead of logic, but somehow often worked out the truth, nonetheless. He didn’t have the practical knowledge that Glen and ArachNed had, but he had vision. Digger could tell. “We need something rock-n-roll, too.”

  “Rock-n-roll, or is it genocide. Well, given that it’s a dog eat dog kind of world,” Joey said grinning down at Digger, “and we are going to prove ourselves the best, I’d say we are the Diamond Dogs.” The boys all howled agreement except for Digger, who was so astonished that Joey had seemed to actually register his existence that he could hardly stir. He was jostled in amongst the others just like he really was part of the team and it took him by surprise. He had never belonged to any group in his life.