The Spermarche Age - Chapter 6

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The Spermarche Age - Chapter 6

Dessert

Oil bubbles and steam spews off a frying surface while the newscaster’s voice drones on a nearby screen.

"It's been two years since that fateful day, and there's still no signs of progress...”

Old, tattooed hands flip and turn the seitan strips with expertise, fetching them from side to side while throwing spicy sauces and varnishing in seeming chaos.

"...Today at the UN summit, the Royal Family has confirmed what fans and supporters have long suspected, yet many still refuse to accept..." the newscaster continues, an anime avatar with cat ears reading in front stock footage.

The old man with a white beard and a man bun covered with a hairnet commands the maelstrom of grease, liquids, and vegetables in a precise sequence of food layers he throws atop a waxed paper plate.

"Conspiracy theories are, as expected, rampant.” continues the cartoon character on screen, emoting with exaggerated faces “Yet the Royal Family don’t seem too concerned. In his speech, King Abdulaziz explained how..."

“Here you go Miguelito!” says the eighty-year-old hipster placing the steaming paper plate on the food truck’s counter before turning back to start the process all over again.

"Thanks Jacob!" says the nude eleven-year-old taking the plate and waving the phone over the hand-painted QR code on the side of the truck. The screen’s sound pauses while a payment confirmation flies by.

"Thank you! Glad to see you and Férnan working at this beach again" says the old man to the nude preteen wearing only his old MAGA hat and a fading QR code under his navel.

"...on the brink of a more enlightened era." continues the newscaster when the sound returns.

"Oh! No, no, Férnan and me no longer work together since last time we were here." the boy says rearranging the paper plate and phone in his arms "In fact, I haven't seen him lately."

“Speaking of better times,” says the anime newscaster “Most of our subscribers don’t remember when the Fertility Crisis began, but for those who do, well, hold yourselves folks! Because according to…”

"No? Uh, me neither..." murmurs the tattooed senior waving a hand to shut the video up "I assumed he was with you. Not many boys work on this beach as before." he says with a dark tone, then shakes his head and laughs "Guess you're all growing out of the business! Oh, and hey! Don't forget your sauces!"

The Latin boy hums and grabs a couple of single-serving packages from a nearby glass. He waves the old hipster goodbye and walks across the crowded beach back to the lone white umbrella where a naked Carolina sits cross-legged on top of her hoodie holding a similar same paper plate and devouring her food. The kid’s clothes are spread on the sand serving as improvised picnic blankets. Several empty containers lying around betray the size of their feast so far.

"Oh God..." moans the Asian girl with her mouth full as Miguel takes off his red cap and sits on top of his white NASA shirt "You were right about the food in this place. It’s SO good…!” she stops to burp, pressing her fist over her mouth “You said you used to eat here all the time?"

The boy nods and spreads the spicy sauce over his plate. Caro chuckles and points at his naked body.

"Then why are you still so darn skinny?"

Miguel shrugs "I dunno. I bike a lot I guess..." he takes a bite off his tlayuda, closes his eyes and drops his shoulders, relishing in the flavors.

Caro giggles from his face of pure delight.

"You look like you're having another orgasm."

Miguel rolls his eyes and takes another bite, speaks covering his mouth "I hope not! Gotta save it until 7."

“Yeah, you need to pay me.” says Caro with a wink, shoving the oversized tortilla into her mouth again.

The naked kids chuckle, then they chew in silence while watching the ocean lit by the yellow light of the falling sun. The beach demography has shifted over the hours, there are fewer families and old folks now. They’ve been mostly replaced by a younger crowd taking a quick stroll in preparation for the night festivities. A steady flow of nude and semi-nude couples walk up and down the beach —two, three, even five females sharing the same male partner—, alongside the ever-present pressure by walking vendors and machines.

Despite all this, the crowd has thinned out considerably since its midday heights, releasing some of the suffocating social pressure.

Caro scans the tourists looking for someone cute to gawk at when she yelps in surprise and points to a couple of dogs without collars chasing each other near the shore.

"Look! Strays!"

"Oh yeah! I've seen more of them lately…!" says Miguel equally amazed.

They watch with big smiles as the canine duo jump and play in the wet sand left by the waves. Each time their paws hit the shallow water they splash a cloud of droplets that sparkle like diamond dust in the golden afternoon light.

Carolina swallows and drops her shoulders, sighs with immense fulfillment.

"I wish every day was like this..." she murmurs, dreamy.

Miguel takes another bite and raises an eyebrow "Really...? How so?"

"Ah, you know... Being outside, visiting new places, meeting interesting people." she smiles, takes another bite "Eating greasy food that feels earned."

"Hey, we DID earn it!" says Miguel covering his mouth "We even have some money left for dessert!"

Caro moans, looking forward to it. She covers the remains of her tlayuda with the waxed paper and puts it aside.

"I dunno, it's a little bit of everything I guess." she murmurs while licking her stained fingers "When your grandma asked me to escort you during your house visits, I thought I would have to stand outside doors all day waiting. And yeah, there's been some of that... But I didn't realize that in the hours in between we would be hanging out. And... Um..." she hesitates, lowers her voice a notch "You are good company. I've had lots of fun these past weekends…"

She watches him with a content, happy smile. Miguel takes another bite of his tlayuda and shuffles in place, not knowing how to respond.

"I'm... Glad you think so. I'm... Um… Having fun too." he murmurs while staring at the sand between them.

Caro’s smile widens. Miguel scratches the back of his head, not wanting to ask what he needs to ask next.

"Speaking of which… You sure you still want to accompany me to the secret place I told you about…? I mean, it's really far away so...” he shrugs “It's okay if you want to call the day after my last house visit and go back home."

The eleven-year-old seems taken aback. She panics for a second before she seems to realize something “Um... Are you asking me because you're too tired to go to this secret place?"

He smirks "Nah, I have to go there anyway."

"Then I'll accompany you!" she says with resolve, placing a hand on his bony knee "I look forward to more adventures with you!"

Miguel nods and smiles, shy. Caro keeps her smile while studying his face and hugs her knees to look back at the ocean. She watches the two stray dogs playing by the waves with her chin resting on her knees. The horizon tinkles and wiggles as hot air distorts the light above the ocean's surface. The container ships on the other side of the concrete sea barrier look like squiggly lines in the distance.

Miguel's gaze roams over the girl’s body as he chews his food. He watches the line of her butt pressed against her green hoodie, the accordion folds of her tummy as she sits hugging her knees, her black hair with colored tips spread in an unruly mess, the ridges of her spine and the stray moles on her back.

The nude boy swallows and puts his empty paper plate aside. He too hugs his knees and takes a long breath.

"Hey... I've wanted to ask you something."

Caro perks up and turns to watch him with a sleepy smile.

"Mmh...?"

Miguel tries to hold his stare but looks away after a few seconds. His fingers fiddle with the edge of his old make america great again hat. He scratches the back of his head.

"Um... Would you...? Would you want to be my...?"

Loud barks from the dogs running past them. They bolt towards another spot on the beach throwing puffs of sand along their way.

Miguel’s words trail off from the raucous, Caro giggles and moves a bit closer.

"Uh? Would I want what? I didn't hear you..."

The boy's hands tremble as their eyes meet again. His expression one of great uncertainty while hers one of eagerness, ready for whatever he has in mind.

"Would you want ice cream for dessert?" he blurts.

Caro's eager expression falters for a quarter of a second before turning into a face of joy.

"YES! Yes please! Is it far away?"

Miguel forces a smile and shakes his head. He puts his red cap on, grabs her phone stuck in the sand, and points behind him.

"Nah, it’s in the food truck just over there." he says shifting his legs to stand up "What flavor you...?"

He stops just before his raging erection bumps against Caro’s face as he stands up. The Asian girl yelps and moves her head away, laughing.

"Chocolate please!" she squeaks raising her hands to protect herself.

"S-Sorry! I didn’t mean to…! Y-yeah, okay!" Miguel jabbers pressing his hard boy cock with the back of his hand to point it down. He starts walking backwards "I-I'll be right back!"

"Kay!" says Caro amused at the awkward situation. "Ah! And what time you said was your last house visit!?"

"Um... At seven! So we still have some time before we gotta leave!"

"Yeah, okay!” she laughs “Although it seems you're ready to go!"

The preteen boy rolls his eyes and walks with his hands still pressed between his legs heading to the caravan of food trucks bordering this end of the beach.

Caro keeps giggling as she shifts position to lay on her stomach with her chin on her hands and feet swinging behind her. She bites her lip as she follows his wiggling bubble butt with her eyes.

Third One of the Day

The two preteens lay under the white umbrella knocked out by the heat and overflowing stomachs. The nude girl lays on top of her green hoodie in a fetal position with a pool of saliva accumulating under her half-opened mouth, her cheek stained with marks of ice cream.

Caro suddenly jolts awake and props herself on an elbow. For a moment she’s startled by not seeing Miguel next to her but breathes in relief when she finds him further up the umbrella’s shadow sleeping on his back with his red hat over his face and hands interlocked on top of his chest, as if ready to jump into action at a moment's notice.

She wets her dry lips and takes a long gulp from the water bottle. She sighs in relief, causing Miguel to mumble and shift position to sleep on his side. His MAGA cap falls off his head without him noticing.

The Asian girl twists the water bottle shut and smiles from watching his peaceful face. She carefully extends a finger to touch the tip of his nose. The boy sneers and swats the imaginary fly away. She giggles.

Carolina bites her lip as her eyes roam up and down his hairless olive body, completely available to her to study at her leisure. She has seen countless depictions of male anatomy of all ages in all sorts of media and real-life situations, but this is the first time her eyes are allowed to travel around a boy’s body parts without a screen in between.

She gulps, studies Miguel’s face to confirm he’s sound asleep, and shuffles to sit cross-legged a bit closer to his nakedness. Of particular interest to her is everything happening around his lower abdomen. The curve of his tummy with the QR code under his outie belly button. His tucked-in testicles and soft penis, so close to her she feels like she could touch it. Perhaps more than touch it.

As she stares at his soft boy cock, her hand wanders between her legs and cups her vulva. She bites her lip and purrs softly as her middle finger bobs up and down her sparse pubic hair rubbing her clit hidden between her folds.

She stops to take a quick look around. There are still many people on the beach but most seem interested in taking pictures or selfies of the falling sun than on vying on the activities of other beachgoers.

Knowing her chance is short-lived, she hurries to lay on her side close to Miguel's penis and tries to keep a low profile as she resumes masturbating, trying to release some of the erotic pressure she has accumulated over the day before the boy awakens.

Her hand movements are slow but deliberate, pausing every so often to check on the boy's snoozing face or peek around the beach for any unwanted spectators. After about a minute touching herself —during which her nose and cheeks keep getting redder and redder— her other hand joins the action and pinches her hardened nipples. She trembles and squeezes her eyes, stifling a moan of pleasure.

When the wave of arousal plateaus, her eyes reopen and her vision refocuses on Miguel's penis which she’s surprised to find erect and throbbing with a thin rope of precum connecting its tip to the ground.

She frowns and looks upwards, sees boy watching her with glassy eyes and a big smile, very much enjoying what he’s seeing.

For a second all sounds under the umbrella stop. The only ones left are Caro's ragged pants as she lays inches away from Miguel's throbbing cock.

"SHIT! I forgot to text my mom!" she blurts, turning to grab her phone half-sunk on the sand "I told her I would keep her updated, and I haven't sent her ANY messages since we arrived!"

"Hey, it's okay Caro, I don’t mind if you..." the boy starts to say propping on an elbow.

"No! It's NOT okay!" says Caro typing the screen furiously, her face red as a beet "She's very paranoid about not getting updates! She keeps saying I’ll get kidnapped for hanging out with a boy." she suddenly inhales sharp, reaching a new level of panic "Shit! Have you seen what time it is!? We overslept!"

This time it's Miguel who is brought to a panic. He shuffles forwards and reads the time on Caro’s phone's screen with wide open eyes.

"Oh no! We'll be late!" he jumps to a standing position with his hard penis shaking up and down and starts gathering the empty food packages, rushing to strike camp.

Caro stands up too but almost falls back on the sand from standing on wobbly legs.

"You ok…?" says Miguel with a grin.

"YES! Let's hurry!" yammers the nude girl blushing hard.

She shakes the sand off her green hoodie and slides it on. Then after a moment of hesitation, shoves the rest of her clothes inside the kangaroo pocket and hurries to help Miguel dislodge the massive umbrella from the sand.

***

Carolina's reddened face hasn't changed much as she struggles to follow Miguel's bike as the preteens snake their way between the late afternoon traffic.

The girl's eyes are unfocused, her attention divided as she pedals with all her might past car's headlights, street signs, laughing pedestrians, animatronic mascots, packs of robots blaring warning lights, and groups of tourists in cosplay too distracted to realize they're blocking traffic.

"W-wait! Wait for me!" yells Caro as Miguel keeps picking up speed, her face blushing and her breathing ragged.

Her hands clench the handles harder and her front wheel wobbles off-course as the up and down motions of her legs combined with the seat rubbing her bare crotch in just the right places makes it nearly impossible for her to pedal faster without triggering an accidental orgasm and causing her to fall off a bridge or slam into a group of tourists.

Indistinct city lights, music, blurry shapes and cheering crowds dressed in red, white, and blue pass by Caro’s peripheral vision as she barrels at full speed behind Miguel. She tries to keep his flapping white t-shirt locked at the center of her view while her legs keep pedaling faster and faster. The frequency of her spasms increases as the molten lava sloshing between her legs nears a full-blown eruption.

"There it is!" the boy suddenly yells screeching to a stop.

Caro slams her brakes and almost runs him over, missing him by a hair. But the boy doesn't seem to notice his close call with disaster. Instead, he drops his bike on the pavement and runs up a short flight of stairs while removing his red hat and NASA shirt, entering naked inside an elegant row house.

Only then does Caro realizes where they are. A high-class residential neighborhood she has never visited before on the side of a tall hill.

Sweaty, horny, and exhausted, she hops off her bike and sits on the brick edge bordering the house to catch her breath (and not just from their race uphill). Her smooth thighs rub against one another and her hands clench restless the fabric of her green hoodie, desperate for relief.

She was so close to orgasm back at the beach and the urge only worsened from their wild race across town. She groans in frustration from thinking she probably won't have another chance to cum but until she gets back home and plunges her largest bunny vibrator inside her starving pussy. But given how she told Miguel she would accompany him to his 'secret place', such release won’t come soon.

The heaving girl groans and glances at both ends of the silent and cozy residential street lit by the orange sunset. There's no one in sight, most residents are probably out on the centenary festivities or watching them from the comfort of their homes. Not to mention anyone who does go outside would probably hail a car rather than walk.

Desperate, the preteen girl pushes the sleeve of her hoodie with her right hand and pulls her left hand inside her oversized garment. Now hidden from view, her left hand reaches between her legs and unleashes a full-on attack on her throbbing clit, causing her to gasp and tremble.

She stifles a moan and throws glances at both sides of the street looking for any pedestrians. She can only hope any security cameras watching her don’t immediately recognize what she's doing and flag her for sexual activity outside the designated city zone. She must try to look like an innocent girl guarding their bikes all while her fingers keep rubbing her pussy at a frenzied pace.

“Oh Godddd…” she grunts with clenched teeth bending her body backwards, feeling herself mercifully close to the edge of paradise, about to jump over the fence.

"All done!" shouts a nude Miguel exiting the row house with his t-shirt in one hand, his red hat on the other, and an erect wet penis bouncing in front of him.

"WHAT!? Already!?" groans Caro removing her left hand from her crotch and hurrying to slide it up the hoodie’s sleeve.

"Yeah, yeah! There were no setbacks this time." says the boy with relief as he puts his shirt and hat back on and lifts his bike from the ground "Her extended family is in town for the Third Century celebrations, so they had everything already set for me. Literally an in-and-out thing!" he says with a chuckle

Put the huffing, sweaty tween doesn't join him, her expression one of deep confusion and equally profound sexual frustration.

“Anyway, I’ll tell you about it later! We should hurry now! It's about to get started!" says Miguel looking worried at the twilight sky "And don't worry! It’s mostly downhill from this point. But as I said, it's really far away! So follow me and try to go as fast as you can or we'll MISS it!"

"I-I don’t get it Miguel, miss what?" grumbles Caro struggling to stand up "Is this secret place you keep talking about… some spot where we can watch the fireworks…?"

He tilts his head as if not having thought of that before "Um, kinda! Look, I'm sorry for all this rush but... It's worth it! I promise!"

The sweaty girl drops her shoulders but nods. She raises her bike and steps on the pedals, clenching the handles tight when her hypersensitive crotch meets the hard, wet seat of her bicycle.

"O-okay..." says Caro with a quivering smile "I trust you..."

A Toast

An orange sunset. Lone fuzzy clouds shade the red horizon with grey stripes. On the opposite corner of the sky a purple gradient gradually overcomes the dark blue sky, its victory all but guaranteed.

The old fishing boat wobbles back and forth lit on one side by the reddish glow. Its navigation lights are turned on, but the rest of the boat is in the dark. The only signs of movement are the Boss’s phone screen on the bow and the flickering light of a portable fireplace in the middle of the deck.

The three bare-chested women sit around the fire chit-chatting and roasting marshmallows at the end of sticks. Each one holds a blindfolded nude boy on their lap who lay despondent in the arms of their captors staring at the glow of the gas flame from behind the fabric of the disposable facemasks covering their eyes.

“Girl, I keep telling you. This Selenite monarchy is up to no good…” murmurs the woman with the buzzcut while feeding her boy a charred marshmallow squeezed between two Graham crackers.

“You’re such an S’Jay dude,” mocks the woman with braids rubbing her boy’s uncut penis absentmindedly, making the pubescent kid shake and squirm from time to time “Why do you care so much about what those lunar loonies do with all their money? At least they’re not…”

She stops, then turns and stares at the tall Indian kid who just stepped into the light of their portable bonfire. His face lit by the flame's glow is clean from tears, his eyes now fiery and determined, no longer afraid of them.

The woman with the buzzcut watches the naked boy with a frown, her hands slowly moving into position ready to spring into action.

But he just bends and opens their beer cooler where there’s only a couple of Crown bottles floating in the melted ice water. He grabs them and turns to leave without saying a word, walking barefoot to the front of the boat while leaving a trail of droplets in his path.

The three women exchange a look, then shrug and continue their gossip on Selenite royalty as if nothing happened.

***

The Boss types on the phone with elbows resting on the curved metal railing on the front of the boat. Her wrinkled face and tattooed neck glows blue from the screen’s light.

Behind her, the Indian boy stands silent gathering up his courage while holding the dripping Crown beers in each hand. He forces a smile and approaches her, standing a respectful distance away from the thin old woman.

The Boss doesn’t seem to notice him at first, focused as she is typing a long message on the phone. The boy watches her thumbs move in a blur and swallows. He inhales and opens his mouth to speak.

“Before you start,” the Boss says without stopping her typing “You should remember that whatever speech you practiced in your head all afternoon it’s NOT going to magically change my mind. That only works in Disney movies, and I’m no Disney villain. Actual villains win all the time…”

She keeps typing as if waiting for an answer. Then sighs and extends a hand to receive one of his beers. The boy gulps and puts the bottle in her hand.

She takes a sip and groans in disgust.

“It’s warm. But even more disappointing than that is that you just showed me how innocent you are by NOT peeing inside it first…” she takes another sip and sighs again, lowers the phone and rubs her eyes with two fingers “Anyway, we don’t have much time left before we reach the farm, and I must admit I am a little bit curious about what new nonsense cooked inside your skull.”

She tilts the beer in his direction, signaling he should begin.

The naked preteen doesn’t react at first, his face twitching in a flurry of conflicting thoughts. He glances at the three women around the fireplace chatting and laughing, then at the orange horizon behind the Boss crisscrossed by distant clouds.

He leans against the metal railing trying to appear like’s preparing to speak and takes a glug of his beer. His face twists in disgust for half a second before he swallows the bitter liquid and smiles, pretending he liked it.

The Boss smirks and raises her beer to take another sip “Maybe you DID pee in the bottle and just forgot which…”

“Your business model is flawed. Your margins are too tight." the boy interrupts in his distinct Indian accent “That’s the real reason why you rejected my proposal to pay us boys for our sperm.”

The Boss doesn’t react. She finishes her sip and watches him with narrowed eyes, waiting for him to continue.

The boy wets his lips, clenches the beer in his hands.

“At first, I thought you hadn’t even considered the possibility of throwing a few bucks to keep us motivated.” he smiles and tilts his head “But I now realize that you DID consider it and chose not to do it either way… What did you say you learned in the Army? That it’s all about giving people the right incentives?”

“That would be the Air Force you fool.” murmurs the Boss taking another sip “Try not to mix the two or I may…”

“Which means your profits are terrible!” he continues, interrupting her again “Otherwise, you wouldn’t mind paying a few carrots to complement the sticks.” he bends his fingers in a gun gesture, points at his head, and shoots “Once I realized how small your margins were, everything began to make sense. If our sperm was as valuable as you say it is, you wouldn’t have to break into our rooms at 4 am to kidnap us! You would have set up a system where we boys were paid to masturbate at home and just send our sperm to you in some covert way.”

The Boss smiles “What makes you think I haven’t?”

“Because of all THIS overhead!” he hisses, motioning at the dilapidated vessel around them “I ran the numbers in my head. Several times in fact. And not just Fermi approximations, but I based my calculation on how much you said you paid your ‘goons’. It’s A LOT of money!” he grabs his hairless testicles and wiggles them “These can’t be THAT valuable! There’s some secret source of income that helps keep your business afloat…”

The phone in the Boss's hand starts buzzing, demanding her attention. But the white-haired elderly woman doesn't seem to notice. Her attention fully squared on the nude boy.

"Who are you kiddo?” she asks with a chuckle “Just how corrupt or inept was the pharmaceutical company that made you that resulted in such an... inquisitive drone?"

“It doesn’t matter where I came from,” he says raising the beer to his lips “What matters is that I’m the best shot you got at getting rid of your side business and make your main business finally profitable.”

He takes a sip and opens his eyes wide. He gags and coughs in disgust.

The Boss starts laughing, although it’s unclear if she does so due to his reaction to the beer’s taste or because of his words.

“You got balls kiddo, I’ll give you that!” she murmurs rubbing a tear off her eye, then motions at his hairless groin “Figuratively speaking.”

The boy nods and coughs a couple more times. He rubs spit off his mouth and turns to face the sixty-something crime lord.

“You know I’m right. You’ve been handed a wildcard here. You would have to raid ten more countries and countless more group homes or orphanages to find someone like me again.” he smiles and leans a bit closer, as if trying to keep this between them “I have the knowledge and the skills, I’ll grow up to be an invaluable asset to your organization. But more importantly than that, is the fact that I'm a BOY. Who better to help you take your operation to the next level?”

He raises the bottle to take another sip, then reconsiders and puts it down. He leans on the metal railing and watches the orange horizon.

“Before your ‘goons’ broke into my room I was getting ready to migrate to Beijing to work on the stock market. I've already traded what little money I had in speculative markets. You know the ones, future contracts in asteroid mines, regolith printers, AI’s, nanos, and similar fads. I want to be close to where the money of the world is… And THIS,” he grabs his balls again “Is where it will be in ten more years…”

The Boss takes another sip of her beer while studying the Indian boy's face lit in the sunset light. Her eyes narrowed and lips curled with the slightest of smiles, amused at the whole conversation.

"I was right in letting you speak, it's fun to listen to all the nonsense that comes off your mouth," she says raising her beer.

The boy drops his shoulders, his practiced smile quickly evaporating.

But then he notices something different about the way she’s holding the beer bottle. She holds it at an angle between them as if waiting for a cue.

"I may invite you to my office later when I need a quick laugh.” she murmurs raising an eyebrow “I'm curious to hear what other ridiculous ideas you have in mind…”

The Indian boy swallows and lets out a cautious smile. He raises his beer and the two bottles —one near empty and the other near full— clink with a sharp note in the gentle ocean breeze.

Fourth One of the Day

BEWARE - FLOOD ZONE

What was once straight and flat pavement has transformed into a winding old road bordering the ocean. The asphalt is now cracked and full of potholes. Bright warnings and QR codes on signposts and ground alert lost cars and drivers of the unstable conditions ahead.

The light of Caro's bike illuminating the road shakes hard as the kids fly past a long stretch of gravel, causing her to yelp and almost fall off the ground from the sudden vibrations on her bare pussy. Once the road flattens again, she moans and leans forward on her bike, giving her genitals a quick rest.

"You okay!?" yells Miguel just ahead, reacting to her loud gasps.

"Y-yeah...!" says the eleven-year-old girl with a silly smile, hovering on the brink of her climax “A-are there more bumpy parts like this one!?"

"No! That's the last one!”

She moans in disappointment. The boy points towards the next bend of the road.

“There!” he yells.

She follows his finger and sees a grid of abandoned buildings almost completely swallowed by the raising ocean. The orange sunlight shines on the faces of the buildings making them seem like a grid of landing lights.

When they reach the edge of town still above the water Miguel screeches his bike to a stop and beckons Caro to hurry.

"Wait! Shouldn't we chain them...?" she yells stepping off her bike.

"No, no! They're safe! No one comes here anyway. Come on!"  

Caro huffs but manages to follow him jogging on shaky legs. They run past old warning signs and government notices ordering residents to relocate, then go up a set of stairs towards the roof of an abandoned apartment building and along a series of improvised bridges connecting the following rooftops, taking them further and further into the flooded town.

"This looks really unstable..." says Caro trying to disguise her fear of heights as Miguel helps her cross one of the bridges made out of plastic pallets and graphene tape hovering above the unruly ocean "Who the hell built these?"

"Um... Me." murmurs the boy, ashamed.

"Ah! I-I'm sorry!” says the girl in a rush “T-they're not so bad...! I mean… They could be, um, worse!"

Miguel rolls his eyes and signals her not to worry about it. He then motions at a tall and narrow brick building poking three floors off the crashing waves.

"That's the one. The _secret plac_e is on top!"

Caro gulps, brushes sweat off her face and nods, still unsteady from their chaotic journey, heights, and extended foreplay with her bicycle.

Miguel helps her cross the last plastic bridge and, after many reassurances from the boy about the stability of the rusty ladder running along the wall, they climb atop the tall rectangular building.

When she finally steps over the two-foot-high ledge bordering the roof she leans against the preteen boy to steady herself. Carolina looks around her feeling dizzy, and not just from the height, but from the sensation of having crossed a portal to a completely different dimension.

The eleven-year-old boy smiles and takes off his red cap, then plugs some wires together and the flat rooftop explodes to life from multiple LED strips spread across the ground.

Carolina gasps in surprise when the swarm of amber dots gives her a better view of the shabby but cozy outdoor setup Miguel has assembled. Unlike other rooftops, this one is free from industrial machinery, garbage, or wild vegetation. Instead, it’s populated with cushions, cute decorations, outdoor furniture, a small garden, a couple solar panels, and rows of plants in pots. Even the floor is padded with old rubber mats covering the rough asphalt coating. It reminds Caro of those idyllic real state ads on old websites and magazines, albeit with a fraction of the budget.

"Cool uh?" says the boy proud waving her to follow him "Come on! It's just getting started!”

"I still don't get it Miguel...” she says panting for air “What's getting started?"

He smiles a devilish smile but doesn't elaborate, leading her to the opposite end of the roof where he has assembled an elevated platform using blue plastic pallets held together with carbon tape supporting two old deck chairs pointing at the ocean.

"Wait here! I’ll go downstairs and bring us something to drink." he says after they climb the platform and motions her to sit in one of the chairs "Be right back!"

"O-okay..." says Caro taking her tennis shoes off. She follows him with her eyes as he walks back towards the rusty ladder and disappears from sight, leaving her alone.

The Asian girl turns on the deck chair to lay with her legs straight and breathes deep, taking a moment to absorb it all. It's the first time since she woke up that morning that she's not scrambling across town to reach some place before a looming deadline, not to mention the double interruption of her covert masturbation attempts, the pounding of the bike seat against her crotch, and all the other explicit sexual acts she witnessed in one day.

The preteen sighs and sits silent for a moment, waiting for whatever fireworks show the boy wanted to show her. The rhythm of her heartbeat gradually slowing down.

As she waits, her glance gets lost on the magnificent sunset past her bare feet. The orange light bounces on the field of half-sunk buildings like an extension of the sun’s reflection on the waves touching the horizon. Distant clouds crisscross in front the sun’s disc, slicing it in dramatic contrasts and radiating long veils of crepuscular rays spread across the multicolored sky.

After some minutes in silence, the sunlight has diminished to a narrow red line just above the twinkling horizon, leaving the rest of the sky colored in violet, grey, and lavender tones. Caro blinks and seems to fall off a spell. She finally takes her eyes off the sea and looks to her side where she’s surprised to realize Miguel has been sitting on the other deck chair all along, his gaze also lost on the horizon.

"You were right. We couldn't miss it..." she says with a smile.

Miguel smiles wide and passes her one of the juice boxes he brought from the floor below. He raises his eyebrows in an it-gets-better kind of way and points up.

Carolina slurps her drink and follows his finger but doesn't see anything out of the ordinary at first, just a couple of dots of light in the twilight sky. Some are fixed in place and some are rushing from one end of the horizon to the other as if they themselves were running late to an appointment.

But unlike any other night in her life, the more she keeps looking at the stars and space junk above, the more dots continue to appear as the night envelopes them. When the sky has reached a dark purple color, it looks as if they were watching a swarm of slow-moving fireflies enveloping the planet.

"Wow..." she breathes, awed.

"Yeah! It never gets old..." says Miguel equally marveled taking off his huaraches and leaning back on the deck chair with hands behind his head.

Caro imitates him and lays down on her deck chair to watch the cosmic spectacle in captivated silence. Miguel suddenly gasps and points to a spot in the sky.

"Oh! Did you see that one!?"

"Yeah, yeah! I did…! Ah…! Another ONE!" says Caro pointing to another piece of debris re-entering the atmosphere in a faint gash of light.

After several more minutes pointing and commenting on more shooting stars, the kids grow silent and just throw smiling glances at each other. There’s nothing else to be said.

As the night deepens and the flurry of satellite activity grows fainter, the girl frowns and turns on her chair to study the dark rooftop lit by the gentle glow of the amber LED lights.

There's something that has been bothering her since she arrived but that she can't quite pin down. Small details in the decoration and furniture. The presence of everyday items she wouldn't expect in a place meant to be used as a viewing terrace. Old toys stored in a corner, previous versions of the structure to hold the solar panels shoved to a side, small clothes carefully tucked away, a folded camping tent in a corner.

She slurps her juice box empty, turns to Miguel who is still watching the last remains of satellites above, and hesitates before speaking.

"You... Used to live here… Didn’t you?"

Miguel doesn't answer right away. He takes a breath and closes his eyes.

"Yeah."

"For how long?"

He shrugs "Two years... I had a family before that, but they... Um..." he stops, then continues as if he never mentioned the issue "After that, I wandered along the coast for some days until I found this place..."

Caro lays sideways on her deck chair, watches him with hands beneath her head.

"I'm sorry."

Miguel shrugs again "It's fine. After I met abuelita things have improved. I have a bed now and people ask fewer questions.” he chuckles “It has also been easier after I reached spermarche. I only wish I had more fertile years head of me. I could make more money that way."

Caro chuckles "Don't we all?"

They both laugh, their childish giggles echoing between the ocean waves and crumbling hollow buildings. They sigh at the same time and return their sights to the sky above.

"This was a great way to end the day, thanks." murmurs the girl readjusting her hoodie to cover her crotch, her legs rubbing with one another, increasingly uncomfortable.

"You’re welcome, I thought you would like it. Um… Sorry for rushing you to get here."

"No, no, it was worth it! Just as you promised." The Asian tween says with a smile.

She then bites her lip, conflicted about what she has to say next.

"A-and… Miguel?"

"Mmh?"

"I’ve been holding the urge since we left the beach but, um… I’m starting to feel it again. So…” she shrugs slightly “Is it okay if I...?"

"Oh! Yeah, yeah, I’m getting hungry too!" he says standing up "I'll go get us some snacks! I found this shipping container the other day packed with boxed food, and I still haven't tasted half of what's inside! It's funny how it..."

"No Miguel, I mean..."

"Don't worry, I did check the expiry dates."

"No menso, What I'm saying is that I need to cum..."

The boy shuts up and looks at Carolina with wide-open eyes. The girl looks away. She fiddles with the strings of her hoodie, embarrassed.

"Oooooh...!” he murmurs, stretching the ‘o’ sound as he recalls their bike journey in a whole new light “Y-yeah, okay! I'll… be downstairs while you..."

"You can stay." murmurs Caro still playing with her hood strings.

After a silence, she turns to watch his reaction, her face barely visible in the diminishing light.

“I mean… It's only fair after I watched you cum today. So, I guess… you can watch me now...” she gulps, speaks even softer “If you want...”

The boy gulps as well, his white shirt tenting over his rapidly hardening penis.

"Y-yeah, okay. I-I can stay..." he says sitting back on his chair, trying to appear like it’s no big deal “Um… do you want me to touch myself too? Or…?”

“Ah…! S-sure… If you want.” murmurs Caro opening her legs slightly, her hands releasing her hoodie strings and slowly making their way down her body “But… Don’t you have to save your sperm for later?”

Miguel chuckles “Nah, after the third one of the day I don’t have to be so careful anymore.” he says repositioning himself on the chair “A good night's sleep is usually enough to recharge the good ol’ milk reservoir.”

Caro giggles. Then she bites her lip as she slides the edge of her hoodie up, exposing her bare groin. Miguel watches her with a loose jaw, his mouth growing dry.

“So… You now can cum as much as you want now?" she murmurs, breathing faster, her fingers parting her sparse pubic hair.

The pubescent boy gulps and raises his white NASA shirt, exposing a hairless erection. He shrugs "Pretty much, yeah... The hours before bedtime are the only time when we boys can cum without wasting money." he chuckles, holds his penis and starts stroking it slowly. He closes his eyes "Some boys call it BJ Hour.”

“BJ Hour?” repeats Caro, opening her pussy’s labia with one hand and circling her clit with the other in slow motions. She squirms from the touch, then raises her eyebrows when she realizes what he meant “Ah, right…! ‘BJ’s’!” she chuckles “Blowjobs are so fancy. I look forward to giving one someday. I’ve tried practicing with my bunny vibrator, but it’s too big for my mouth...”

Miguel nods, moving his hand up and down at a leisured pace, his voice growing huskier "I also look forward to it. I've never had or given one."

Caro’s fingers stop their movements over her sensitive clit. She sits higher on her deck chair and looks at Miguel with shock.

"What!? Why not? Didn't you say you used to hang out with lots of boys on that beach?"

"Yeah, but just because we were naked all the time doesn't mean we had sex." says Miguel stopping his masturbation and speaking with a tinge of annoyance, tired of hearing the same misconception.

"But… I'm sure there were some queer boys among you who liked oral sex, right?"

"Yeah, so?"

"And you seriously never asked for a BJ? Aren't you curious how it feels like?"

The skinny boy shrugs, feeling more and more uncomfortable about the topic, his penis growing soft in his hand.

"I... I don't know, ok? Blowjobs are... different than sex. They're scary! I don't want my penis to be inside some random person’s mouth. There’re teeth in there!” he tries to stroke himself back to hardness “If I ever get one, it has to be from someone I trust. Someone..."

"...Special?" interrupts Caro with a grin, masturbating again.

Miguel rolls his eyes and shakes his head, signaling they should speak of something else.

Carolina giggles, enjoying him having a taste of her daily conundrum.

They grow silent as their return their attention to their hand movements. Their breaths growing more and more agitated as they intensify their strokes or rubbing motions while checking each other out.

The girl bites her lip and slides down on her deck chair while raising her hips. She moans as her finger moves in a blur over her vulva. Her pants growing more frequent, more urgent.

Miguel smiles and turns to lay on his side to enjoy the view, his penis hard but otherwise forgotten, both his hands now under his head.

Caro opens her eyes, sees his smiling face, and looks away, embarrassed.

"Don’t just… Stay there doing nothing…!” pants the girl between the wet sounds coming from her groin “Cumming with an audience makes me feel like I’m at school or somethin’.”

Miguel nods apologetically and lays again on his back. He notices Caro is watching him and raises his shirt farther up his body before joining her in their onanism. He tries to match the speed of Caro’s hand movements but slows down after a short while, his penis growing exhausted.

The panting girl watches him touch himself and moans out loud. She puts a hand on her mouth to silence herself but takes it away, then reconsiders and covers it again.

“I… I’m sorry! I don’t know if I’m being too loud or…” she says between pants “I haven’t masturbated next to someone… Since mom taught me how. So... I don’t know what’s the… Proper etiquette..."

Miguel chuckles, stroking himself at a more leisured pace. He changes hands so she can have a better view of his boy cock.

"There’s not really any etiquette. Trust me, each time is different."

The girl nods, absorbing his wisdom. She watches with glassy eyes how his hand slides up and down his boy penis under the faint LED light and silver starlight. Her hand between her legs now shoving three fingers inside her vagina.

Her shoulders shake, her legs clench her hands. Her body shakes again, harder, she lets out an animalistic grunt.

"Ah! Shit...!” she pants opening her eyes wide “Miguel! I'm...! I’mmm...!"

"You cummin’?" asks Miguel in his high-pitched boy's voice. He turns to lay on his side and watches her with fascination.

Caro squeezes her eyes shut and nods, her breaths devolving into gasps of increasing frequency as her body starts quaking violently.

"Shit...! Ah…! G-God! S-SHIT!"

She clenches her teeth and speeds her hand motions to a frenzy, shoving up and down her crotch as if trying to carve a trench.

The preteen girl suddenly opens her eyes and watches him with a pained expression, then turns on the deck chair and arches her body, the toes of her feet clenching and curling.

She squeaks and curls inwards as if someone punched her in the stomach, turning to lay in a fetal position with a hand buried deep between quivering legs and her free hand flailing around trying to find something to hold on to.

Miguel extends his hands and holds her clasping hand. Her wet fingers squeeze his palm hard as her orgasm spasms intensify.

Then, slowly, the strength of her trembles diminishes in progressively weaker jolts until they conclude in one last, satisfied breath of air.

"Uhhhhh..."

"That seemed like a good one." says Miguel with a big smile.

Caro nods and carefully uncurls her body. She slides her hand wet with her juices off her crotch and looks at him with a tired, grateful face.

"It really was..." she says dreamy, squeezing his hands holding hers.

Then she notices his throbbing cock and coos, mortified.

"Ah…! Y-you didn’t cum…! Um, don’t you need to…?"

Miguel smiles and shakes his head, unconcerned.

"Nah, I’m good…"

Economies of Scale

“And for the record,” the Boss murmurs emptying the last of her beer on the ocean “There's no 'discrepancy' in your estimations kiddo. No secret source of income. You just forgot to consider...”

"Ram." interrupts the nude preteen standing straight and imitating her by emptying his beer "Not 'boy', or 'kiddo', or 'drone'. My name's Ram. Short of Ramesh.”

The Boss rolls her eyes, already regretting her decision to bring him into the fold. She checks the hour on the phone and looks at the dark horizon. The sea has swallowed most of the orange and red glows of sunset leaving the ocean lit in a deep blue light.

She turns to the three women chatting around the fireplace and waves a hand.

“It’s almost here! Get ready.”

The women nod and shoo away the naked boys on their laps. They slap their butts and order them to wait on the floor before they stand on shaky legs and scramble around the vessel.

Ramesh scans the horizon with a confused expression. The sky is dark and the visibility is dropping rapidly, but it’s nonetheless clear there’s no land, structure, or vessel in sight. He looks at the Boss searching for an explanation, but the old woman just shrugs. She walks away with the empty bottle in one hand and the phone in the other, leaving him alone.

Ram leans against the curved metal railing, closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath, looking like he managed to outrun a tiger by the skin of his teeth. He takes a moment to calm himself, smiles, and opens his eyes.

He frowns.

The three women are standing in a line wearing their featureless masks and foul weather jackets. The three nude boys —without their blindfolds— sit by their feet staring with wide-opened eyes at something behind him.

Ram turns just in time to see a giant bump in the ocean ahead the fishing boat. A red fin emerges from it, converting into a massive scarlet structure that grows higher and higher, heading straight at them.

The children scream as the gigantic red wall approaches and misses the boat by less than a dozen feet, soaring so high up the sky that Ram falls on his butt from tracking the tip with his head, his empty beer bottle rolls away.

The women laugh from the kids’ terrified reactions as the smooth red structure continues its journey and turns in a wide arc. When it’s about a hundred feet away it slows down and the fin’s base flares out, swelling both sides of the ocean and revealing a 900-foot-long white submarine with a faded Carnival logo along its sides.

When the massive vessel finally stops raising, its smooth, fish-like body towers almost as high out the water as the single red fin crowning its spine. Next to it, the fishing boat looks like a bath toy.

Ramesh sits on the floor staring at the old cruise submarine with bulging eyes. He lets out an involuntary scream when the Boss steps next to him typing on the phone.

"As I was saying, you forgot to consider the economies of scale in your calculations… How many drones you think we had on our farm? Five hundred?"

She snorts, finding the number hilarious. She pockets the phone and motions at the pearl-white vessel spread across the night horizon.

“Full graphene body, two thorium reactors, AI officers for each ship department, eleven hundred cabins. We haven't finished filling it up yet, so we can only estimate how many drones we’ll be able to squeeze inside. We hope at least four or five per cabin based on preliminary tests." she shrugs " It's not much, but it's a start. A demonstration before we expand the fleet.”

Ram sits on the ground paralyzed by the sheer scale of her criminal enterprise. He stares at the fragile elderly woman with a renewed sense of respect and horror. The Boss chuckles.

"People nowadays are so cynical about the future." she says shaking her head, disappointed. She extracts the phone and starts to type again "They’ve lost hope just when things are finally taking a turn to the better..."

The Question

Caro opens her eyes and sits on the deck chair looking disoriented, her hair twisted in a mess.

She looks to her right and sees the archipelago of rooftops poking out the dark ocean lit by the pearl light of a gibbous moon. She looks to her left and sees Miguel on his deck chair sleeping with the red hat covering his face and one arm hanging on his side, his white NASA shirt tenting above his erection.

Carolina smiles and rubs her eyes, growls from the yucky feeling of her dry mouth. She pats the floor searching for an intact juice box amidst dozens of empty ones under their chairs. When she finally finds one, she drinks it in one single swoop, slurping loud in the end.

Miguel jolts awake, his hat falling off his face. He immediately notices his morning wood and sits to hide it.

"Oh...! We fell asleep…? What time is it?"

Caro sighs in relief from finishing her drink and pats the floor looking for her phone. She finally remembers where she left it and reaches inside her kangaroo pocket, throwing away the rest of her clothes in the process.

She turns the phone's screen on and gasps.

"It's tomorrow! SHIT!!!"

She sits cross-legged and starts typing a long text on a messaging app. The name 'Mom 2' on the header of the screen.

She presses 'send' and waits impatiently with a hand over her mouth.

"Why is it taking so long...!?" she groans, then turns to Miguel who is in the middle of a yawn "Is the signal around here always this bad?"

The boy shakes his head finishing his yawn. "There's no signal at all… One more reason why nobody comes here..."

"Shit, shit...! I promised mom I would text her before her next shift ended. I hope she doesn't call the army searching for me..." she slides the phone back in her pocket, laughs at an idea "If she asks, we spent all night having sex and that's why I forgot to text her. That should calm her."

They both laugh, but their voices are tired. Caro stretches her arms and sighs.

"I better get going… It's a long way back and I'll be lucky to arrive before mom."

"Oh! Y-yeah, okay! Um... You want me to accompany you?"

She shakes her head, struggling to untangle her messy black hair with her fingers.

"No, I'll be okay. I’ll take the Maglev that goes to East Texas." she smiles “There’s a station near home and, thanks to you, I now have some money.” She stands up “But first, there’s a bathroom downstairs, right?"

He nods rubbing his eyes. She smiles and carefully hops off the platform, walking barefoot following the LED lights leading back to the ladder running along the side of the building.

Miguel finds an unopened juice box on the ground and slurps it empty, then hurries to clean the garbage between the chairs, tidying things up before she returns.

He sits back on his deck chair and waits restlessly in place. He shifts his weight and switches legs. He looks up at the moon and at the single green dot above its northern pole. He huffs and flattens his wrinkled shirt with both hands, trying to calm himself.

When Caro finally returns, she sits hugging a pillow-sized plushie she found along the way. The egg-shaped cartoon version of a screaming white man with blonde hair, orange makeup, and a blue business suit.

"Hey, I didn't know you had a Trump!" she says with a giggle "And it's in such good condition! You found it?"

Miguel forces a smile and nods, his knuckles rubbing together as Caro turns the soft plushie around, inspecting it.

"Hey... before you leave, I wanted to ask you something..." says the skinny boy straightening his back.

The eleven-year-old girl looks up as she plays with the plushie, pretending it’s giving a rambling speech to an imaginary crowd. She sits cross-legged hugging the toy and waits for him to elaborate, the profile of her face highlighted by the golden glow of the LED strips.

Miguel hesitates, seeming for a moment like he's about to chicken out. But he shakes his head and steadies himself.

"I-I'm sorry I didn't tell you about this place before, I..."

"Ah! No, no Miguel, it's okay. I understand..." Caro says dismissively waving a hand.

But the boy doesn't mirror her nonchalance. He scratches the back of his head trying to gather up his courage.

Carolina smiles but hugs the Trump tighter, realizing this is more serious than she thought.

"Yeah, um..." he begins, hesitant "In a couple more years I'll start receiving universal income. I’ll be allowed to work in legal things and, once I do, I'll be able to fix this place up. O-or perhaps find a better one!" he smiles, his voice gaining confidence as he continues "I’ll be able to save money and won’t have to live each day at the time. A-and after that, I'll start studying so I can get a better job! And if I-I convince one of my clients to recognize her baby as mine, I'll be able to go to college! I could work at NASA one day! Help clean all the Kessler debris so people can go to space again!"

He stops, unsure if he's making sense, hands rubbing against one another. Caro’s face remains smiling, her eyebrows slightly closer together.

"W-what I mean is that this, the way I am right now, is just temporary. I-I promise!"

Caro's smile slowly fades, realizing where this is heading.

"Miguel... I..."

"I was going to ask you until things got better! T-that was my original plan! But... The more we hung out, the more I wondered how you would respond. A-and I...!"

He stops, looks at the Asian girl with hands on top of his boney knees, trying to keep his focus.

"What I mean is that I need to know. I can't handle not knowing how you'll answer. It's ALL I can think about!"

Caro closes her eyes and takes a breath. She stands up hugging the plushie and walks around her deck chair to stand opposite of him.

Miguel watches her back as she faces the ocean, her silhouette framed against the starry sky. He hesitates but continues, his voice breaking from emotion.

"I r-really like hanging out with you! You're smart and funny and, um, I like how you look and...!" he shakes his head, getting frustrated at himself "People only care about what comes out of my balls! But y-you're different!"

Caro rolls her eyes and turns around "I also care about what comes out of your..."

"Would you be my novia?" he says closing his eyes and rolling his hands into fists, as if preparing to be struck by a cannonball.

The girl inhales long and deep. She looks at Miguel with a face of dread, her biggest fears finally confirmed.

After some seconds in silence, the boy dares to take a peek, his face and body trembling in barely contained anticipation, a bubbling mixture of hope and fear. Even the droning sounds of the ocean seem to mirror his urgency. The rhythm of the waves increasing as if trying to match Caro’s racing heartbeat.

She exhales at last with a pained smile across her face. She opens her mouth to speak but no sound comes of it. The crash of the waves grows louder and quicker. She tries again.

"I..."

It finally becomes obvious the repeating sound they've been hearing are not the waves but something more artificial. Some kind of old gas engine getting closer.

"What's up with all that noise…?" says Caro, relieved, searching for the sound's origin.

“Uh?” says Miguel dropping his shoulders and opening his eyes.

But she doesn't offer an answer and runs to investigate, leaving Miguel alone atop the platform, looking dumbfounded.

He looks around trying to figure out what he missed. He sees the cartoon Trump watching him in silence and grunts. He puts his red cap back on and stands up to follow her.

He walks to the opposite corner of the roof where he sees the girl huddled behind the perimetral ledge spying on the source of noise on the other side.

"Hey, what were you going to...?" Miguel starts to say, yelling to compensate for the roar of the diesel engine.

"Shhh!" Caro hisses with a tinge of fear that stops him in his tracks. She points at the LED lights and mouths "Turn them off!"

The boy hesitates but nods. He walks back to the ladder and unplugs the wires, leaving them in near-complete darkness.

He turns his hat facing backward and tiptoes back to Caro, careful not to stumble over anything on the way. As he approaches, she waves him to lay low and be quiet. Miguel crawls on his hands and knees the last couple of feet until he's crouching right next to her and can finally see what's scaring her.

An old and decrepit fishing boat squeezed between the half-sunk buildings slowly approaches them amidst the painful roar of its engine. A surreal sight made ever more unreal thanks to the total lack of navigational lights or any other signs of life, making it seem like a ghost ship loudly announcing its arrival.

The kids stare amazed as the lifeless boat passes beneath them, its main masts and guide cables getting so close it feels they could extend a hand and touch them. It continues sailing further down the street until it stops next to a flooded hardware store whose flat rooftop barely raises above the waterline.

The engine turns off, its gurgles bouncing between the buildings like the last wails of a dying creature. For a moment it seems like the boat is dead, rocking back and forth after a long journey from the underworld.

"Are we in a zombie movie?" Miguel whispers.

"Shhh!"

A flash of light further inland draws their attention for a second. It looked like the headlights of a vehicle sweeping by as it came to a stop somewhere near the edge of town.

Voices and movement inside the fishing boat. Caro presses herself closer to the ground, takes out her phone, and uses it as a telescope to spy the vessel from above. She fiddles with the camera options trying to zoom and brighten the image to see what's happening, but her hands keep shaking, making it hard to see what's what.

Miguel moves closer and grabs the other end of her phone to stabilize it. She smiles and raises the ISO levels to the max, brightening the image but making it much grainier.

They put a hand on their mouths to block an involuntary gasp. On-screen, they see two figures dressed in bulky seafaring clothes and assault rifles over their shoulders forcing a nude young man with hands tied behind his back and a pillowcase covering his head, to walk along the boat’s deck. They shove him against the metal railing on the stern and keep him pinned there, all while he keeps struggling and mumbling, seemingly more angry than scared.

Caro stares at the screen in silent horror when Miguel taps her forearm in a frenzy, startling her.

"Are you streaming?" he whispers, his voice struggling to remain calm.

Caro curses at herself and taps the screen, then jolts and points to an icon on the top indicating no connection. Whatever they record won't leave the phone but until they return to civilization.

The boy clenches his teeth and looks towards the ladder, weighing the risk of running away without been seen or heard. The boat is so close they can hear voices and a couple of laughs coming from it, but it seems doable if they remain super quiet.

He returns his attention to the grainy video feed and gasps, eyes bulging in panic and sudden recognition. Two more figures carrying heavy suitcases have emerged from the dark walking along the hardware store’s roof. Only these figures are dressed in black clothes full of pockets and military gizmos, making them look straight out of a war game or movie.

Miguel presses himself to Carolina and forces her to glue herself even closer to the ground.

"We gotta leave!!!" he hisses on her ear.

“W-why?” she hisses back, trying to keep her phone above the ledge “What’s inside those suitcases?”

“Those are NOT suitcases!”

***

The woman with the buzzcut huffs in relief after placing the two gagged and hogtied boys on the deck next to the other two her not-as-muscular partner carried onboard. The four pubescent kids mumble and struggle against their restraints as they rest on their stomachs. They wear colorful pajamas, golden sacks around their heads, and have their wrists and ankles held with white zip ties behind their backs.

Her partner with a long, multicolored braid twists her shoulders and hisses in pain. She punches the arm of her buffed coworker —an arm as thick as her leg—, and smirks.

"Dude, remember when you struggled to carry just one drone? At this pace, we'll be able to bring the five we need for a bonus every single trip."

"Girl, why should I be the one carrying three drones?" murmurs the muscular woman removing her eye gear packed with cameras and antennas “Join me at the gym and get on my level instead. We could carry six then!"

The woman with braids removes her night goggles and shakes her head "Nah dude, I'm the Black Widow of this team. If we both look like The Hulk it will ruin our whole vibe." she frowns when one of her gizmos starts blinking. She murmurs something in her partner’s ear who nods and pats her back in response.

They walk to the stern of the boat where they bump fists with their other two crewmates dressed in blue foul weather jackets guarding the nude twenty-year-old man with a flowery pillowcase over his head. His olive, sculpted body is marked with bruises and cuts from a recent beating. His perfectly trimmed pubic hair is stylized in a fashionable landing strip.

"Speaking of things that have changed over the years..." murmurs the woman with braids standing in front of their injured prisoner.

She grabs the pillowcase and takes it off in a swoop, revealing an olive face with the chiseled features, full lips, piercing eyes, and thick eyelashes that modeling agencies fight for. A striking, effortless sex appeal not even his swollen eye, mouth gag, or multiple skin cuts seem to diminish. Even the furious look of his eyes only reinforces the impression that he’s the lead actor of some Bollywood blockbuster.

"You did quite a number this time Ram." laments the woman with braids removing his mouth gag "I don't think we've EVER seen the Boss being this pissed off at someone, let alone at her own second in command..."

***

"No, no! Leave that!" mouths Miguel as he holds the phone like a telescope over the two-foot ledge and stops the video recording "We gotta go! NOW!"

Caro nods and reluctantly drops her boy shorts and striped beige dress back on the deck chair. She pushes her Zelda hoodie further down her body, somehow feeling more naked than ever, and notices the clink of coins that Miguel's grandma gave her still inside the kangaroo pocket. She hurries to leave them as well.

Now effectively wearing only her green hoodie and mismatched tennis shoes, she meets the boy on the other side of the rooftop where she handles him his huaraches.

"We'll go down the ladder and jump to the next building," he whispers as he steps into his shoes "It's a warehouse with tons of places to hide. We stay there until they leave or we catch a signal from a stray satellite."

Carolina nods, her body trembling as she drapes the hood over her head and pulls the drawstrings in, framing her face in a tight oval. Miguel hands her the phone and notices her shaking hands. He holds both her wrists, startling her.

They meet eyes. He smiles.

"Hey! Don't worry, I’ll help you climb down the ladder... We'll be fine. You still got to answer my question from before, remember?"

Caro's lips quiver into a smile, eyes moist with tears. She nods, her hands a bit steadier now.

Gunshots on the other side of the building, louder than either of them had ever heard. More like small explosions as opposed to the usual firecracker pop in most movies.

Caro suppresses a scream and moves closer to Miguel’s lanky body, squirming in fear.

Another round of gunfire, this time splashing the water. The girl presses herself against the boy trying to hurry him down the ladder so he can help her descend.

But the eleven-year-old boy looks stuck in place, eyes lost in the distance.

"Hey... You remember how many people were in the boat?" he whispers.

Caro stiffens. She pulls the phone out of her pocket and replays the recording. The two kids squeeze close together and watch the latest seconds of the video.

On-screen, three figures surround the nude young man without the pillowcase over his head. They yell and argue back and forth before the armed figures stand in a line and aim their rifles.

The recording stops.

The two preteens stay quiet. The same question bouncing inside their minds.

"What happened to the fourth one?" whispers Miguel.

Carolina shakes her head, eyes flooded with tears. She moves the video’s slider further back, searching for the missing figure.

Her whimpers increase in desperation as she keeps rewinding further and further.

"Lower the phone boy... And do it slowly..." comes a woman's voice just behind them.

The two preteens freeze in place. They turn around bit by bit until they’re faced with the muzzle of an assault rifle pointing straight at their faces.

A woman built like a tank with skull-like face paint, green eyes from her night goggles and a bundle of zip ties hanging from her elbow stares at them from behind the rifle's iron sights.

“The phone…” she hisses, resting her index finger on the trigger “NOW!”

To be continued…

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