Moral Authority by Jacob Z. Flores

Author:Jacob Z. Flores [Flores, Jacob Z.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Gay Mainstream
Publisher: Wilde City Press
Published: 2013-11-09T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 26

“Hurry up and get in line, you faggots!” Officer Asshole yelled in his usual charming manner.

Every man detained in the camp lined up in rows in front of the quadrangle in the center of the housing unit. To Mark’s left stood Kevin and Angel, who looked just as nervous as everyone else about being gathered here. Any time prisoners were grouped in big numbers people were shot.

Mark looked around for Buddy. His friend’s absence worried him. “Have either of you seen Buddy?”

“I think he’s still at Land’s End,” Angel told him.

“I see Phil and Trent,” Kevin said, nodding toward two other domestics assigned to the colonel’s private residence.

Seeing Phil and Trent but not Buddy concerned Mark. Could his friend perhaps be in trouble? Could he be dead? Mark didn’t even want to contemplate that possibility.

“I don’t like this at all.”

Caleb grunted behind him. It was Caleb’s way of expressing his dissatisfaction with the three of them for talking in line, especially in such close proximity to Caleb himself. As Caleb said, he didn’t want to be anywhere near Mark when he did something stupid that got everyone around him killed.

“Caleb’s right,” Kevin replied, as if he could translate Caleb’s grunt as easily as a line of Dickinson poetry. “We should be quiet. We don’t want to draw attention to ourselves right now.”

Kevin and Caleb were both right, but it infuriated him nevertheless. Obviously, Caleb was fine without developing emotional attachments in this place. Mark could even understand that. Emotional attachments meant vulnerability. In his worry for his friend’s safety, Mark might get himself and his other friends in trouble. Caleb didn’t have to worry about that. He stuck to himself, made no friends, and had to worry about no one other than himself. It was certainly a means of survival, even if it was mechanical and selfish.

The final men lined up, with the exception of Buddy. They stood before Officer Asshole like cattle awaiting the slaughter. Officer Asshole walked quietly back and forth before them, a wicked grin danced across his lips. Nothing pleased him more than making them suffer.

He finally walked toward a cardboard box set on top of a wooden table that other K3s placed there a few moments before. On either side of the table, K3 guards stood at attention. Sly grins stretched across their faces as well, as if there was some secret joke the men before them had not let them in on. While their guns weren’t drawn, Mark found no relief. Things changed swiftly at camp, and today was no exception.

“We’re having the first Provincetown lottery!” Officer Asshole proudly announced. “There’ll be winners. There’ll be losers. But there’ll be excitement for all!”

Mark didn’t like the sound of this at all. Nothing good happened in Provincetown, at least to the prisoners. Whatever this lottery was, its design was strictly to torture and inspire fear, something Officer Asshole enjoyed in his role as captor. If he didn’t kill at least two men a day, he was surly.

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