Battle Ends
Engrossed in my thoughts, mechanically avoiding pine trees and holes and thick roots in the run, I only realized how distant I was when I spotted the creek. Surprised, I came to a stop. As a thin layer of sweat coated my skin, I examined the surroundings and searched within my mind a familiar spot. This was a new territory for me and I couldn’t afford getting lost now.
Whoa, I’m this far? Without a doubt, it was the same freezing cold, crystalline watercourse we had swum and played in the day before. More importantly, it was located right behind the boyscouts’ camp. There were almost 2 km [~ 1,25 miles] from one base to the other, but for me only a few seconds had elapsed since my successful evasion.
Storming their base was a brave option, except for a little detail: I stared at my empty pockets and hands, cursing under a hasty breath. I knew that without a water gun or rope or duct tape I was a very easy catch, and I knew there had to be at least one of these in the nearby enemy base; the only thing I did not know was whether the camp was guarded or not. Though confident upon my rudimentary notions of ground wrestling and judo locks, I would be no more difficult to capture than a forest deer against two or more armed hunters even if I miraculously Matrixed the first water shots.
There were only three physical obstacles before reaching the base: first, the creek; second, immediately following the rocky shore, a low hill; and finally on the top of the hill, a thick line of trees. Due to this last wall of high foliage that completely surrounded the campsite, I fortunately couldn’t be spotted approaching it – but conversely, neither could I see anyone inside to prevent me from falling into the wolves den.
I pondered the alternatives. What alternatives?! I can’t go back, there are probably 6 guys on my tail, and I don’t have a clue where Adam or Adrian were – they might as well have already been captured, or switched sides so they could win! (You never know what Adrian is capable of). It was worth the risk taking a look in their camp for some rope; if I got lucky, maybe I’d even stumble upon a forgotten water pistol. Going around like this would only eventually get me caught, I concluded.
So it was decided. I started walking through the shoreline scattered with pebbles, the crushing sound from beneath my feet echoing in the woods. After judging it too loud for an infiltration mission, I removed my shoes along with, why not, my socks – a choice I’d dearly regret. I tucked each sock into its shoe, then threw them to the opposite shore.
Seeing that the narrowest part of the rivulet was not narrow at all, and finding the prospect of plunging into this awfully cold stream far from appealing, I backed a few steps in order to get enough impulse. Swinging my arms like a flailing duck, my legs propelled me to a great leap forwards. I successfully arrived at the other side of the creek, but landed with all my weight on my right foot - and since I was shoeless and sockless, a tiny sharp rock pierced my bare sole. An acute pain shot up my legs; I screamed in pain. My legs faltered, I lost balance and backed up till I fell into the freezing water. Well done.
The moment I felt the welcoming liquid acting more like a googol of needles on me, I bolted out onto the shore. I sat cross-legged and inspected my wound: even though it was a small cut, a scarlet stream continuously leaked. I washed it but it didn’t look much nicer.
“Great,” I thought, “I just hope I won’t have to chop my leg off, I don’t think we packed the machete.”
Well, as long as it didn't kill me, it was ok. My clothes were obviously soaked. Now, in spite of my living in a very, very hot country - and that day wasn’t particularly cooler – the iced cloth that clung to my skin made me shiver with the first breeze, so I peeled the t-shirt off and wrung the excess of water out of it. However, it was still pretty damp – I’d have to do without.
All of a sudden, as I put the socks back on and fastened the shoelaces, I heard steps behind me. A torrent of adrenaline flowed through my veins. There, on the opposite shore, stood Phil with a smirk on his face. One hand held a pistol; the other was hooked at his waist, panting a bit because of the chase, but still showing his characteristic, so-Phil pose of arrogant cleverness.
“Gosh, Nick, I didn’t know you were such a hygiene freak. You could’ve washed up when the game was over, y’know,” he broke the silence and laughed away.
“Okay, lie down, put your arms behind your back, and wait for me to get there.” He prepared to jump over to this side.
“Yeah, right.” I chuckled, got up, and made a desperate run up the hill. Momentarily forgetting my injured foot, I nearly collapsed again, clutching a nearby tree to avoid the fall. Damn, it really hurt, I couldn’t make a step. I started to hop on one foot, recklessly half-running, half-jumping as I heard Phil’s voice behind me telling me to stop, that I had no escape. Well, in a certain way he was right, for he would reach me sooner or later, but was I going to give up? Stubborn me, yeah. Like I said before, I was the fastest one in the group, followed by Phil, but thus deprived of one leg I was no better than chubby Rob in a sack race.
Wading the dense array of trees, I could make out the tents in the camp. I only hoped that I could get there before Phil, and that I could find something to defend myself with. However, still in the forest, no more than 20 meters [~ 65 feet] left till the clearing, Phil ominous threats behind me, I paid little attention to my way. Huge error: all of a sudden, my only functional foot was circled and yanked by a rope, and since I had been hopping, I offered little resistance to my being knocked down. A fluffy layer of leaves somewhat diminished the impact, but I can’t say I went down graciously – more like a bag of potatoes being dropped on the ground.
I’d stepped on a booby trap. A primitive device, but nonetheless effective, especially on one-legged game: you conceal a generous loop of rope with a swift-slipping knot in someone’s path, hold its end from a hidden spot, and when the person steps in, you simply pull in the opposite direction of the unfortunate fellow.
“Owww… did you really have to do t hat?!”
I lay on my stomach, breathing heavily, not fully grasping the situation yet. I stirred and prepared to get up, but a voice said, “Don’t even think about it.” The plastic barrel of a gun was pressed against the back of my head as my new assailant pinned me down with his weight.
“I got him, Phil!” Mike smiled up to welcome the boy who trudged carrying my shoes and shirt. Before I could even think of squirming, he reached for a rope inside his zipped pocket.
“Yeah, and I have the perfect plan for the other two,” he quizzically said, grasping my right wrist and wrapping the first of the several loops around it.
In no time, they were carrying me by the arms to the campsite with my hands deftly cross-bound behind my back. And since they put my damp shirt to good use, I could but mpphhh back at them for the derisory comments after I confessed my clownish episode in the creek.
The place was empty except for James, who to my complete amazement was tying Billy up to a pole! But Billy was one of them!
“Guys, look what we got,” said Phil. James turned around and smiled triumphantly. I groaned.
“Perfect, now we’ll keep them both busy.”
He resumed by tying off Billy’s last knot, with unnecessary tightness.
“Hey, take it easy, James!”
“Sorry!” He finished the task by pressing a simple cleave gag between the kid’s teeth.
Billy then tested the bonds to confirm what was already evident: he was going nowhere. He was tied in one of the most restrictive and uncomfortable ways I had ever seen – and was about to feel.
Phil and Mike first untied my hands, whilst explaining James and Billy the previous events that had led to my dumb capture, having a second round of laughter at my expense.
They forced me down on a kneeling position, my back against a wooden pole about 20 cm [~ 9 inches] in diameter. Thanks to my long legs, my feet could be drawn back around the pole enough to cross them at the ankles, where they were lashed together with rope. The pressure on my lower back now forced me slightly forwards. Discovering the wound on my sole, James took a few minutes to cleanse it and apply a Band-aid before going on (they weren’t that cruel after all!).
Notwithstanding, during the whole procedure I stared unsympathetically at my captors. I knew what they had in store for me wasn’t going to be nice.
I duly put my arms behind the trunk when Mike fetched a new length of soft cotton rope.
“Oh no, Nick, not this time.”
Mike brought my hands in front, lifted them above my head and behind the pole, and tied them also crossed. In an automatic reflex, I arched my back as my arms were drawn upwards, stretching my torso as taut as a drum, and exposing both my armpits and sides, which lost all protection and became frighteningly vulnerable. I gulped at this realization.
Next, Phil removed my gag, but I knew the relief it gave on my jaws was not intended to last. After he offered me a bottle of water – I refused for fear of the dreaded tickle torture - he took something out of his pocket, which I recognized, widening my eyes, as a squash ball.
“Remember this, Nick?” Phil squatted and held it in front my face. I immediately regretted having used this type of gag on him back at his place.
“No! Phil, dude! I’m sorry! You wouldn’t…”
“Oh, yes.” A broad grin spread across his face. He picked one of my socks and put the ball inside; he rolled them in a bundle.
“Please Phil, not this. I won’t make a sound!” I hurried to beg but, as usual, it all fell on deaf ears.
“Open up!”
I sighed and reluctantly did as told, receiving the wad without resisting, which filled my mouth completely and bulged my cheeks. The boy put his hand over my mouth to hold it in, while he searched with the other for the edge of a duct tape roll. Using his teeth, Phil peeled a strip, which he plastered over my mouth and then wrapped unmercifully around my head until all the attempts to speak were mere mppphhhhhfs. As I’ve mentioned before, the silencing score of this gag is high – of course, at the expense of the wearer’s comfort: it forces the mouth wide open, can’t be spit out or even worked with the tongue, and biting the bundle only makes the jaw tired.
The fact that they added no further ropes to my bindings and stepped back to admire their prisoners puzzled me. Mike used to be very thorough in his rope-work. I should have known better; as soon as they finished, I struggled against my bonds, and realized, with an expression of both shock and excitement, that I was utterly helpless – now even more than other times. The tying implied an understanding of human anatomy (or just lots, and lots of tie-up practice), because it hindered movement of limbs with the least amount of fastening material. The most fascinating aspect was that it became impossible to relax! Because of the way I was tied, I was unable to stretch my arms up; neither could I lower them to gain relief! I had no choice but to strain the whole time, which wasn’t a very nice position to remain in, I must say. The cords had been wrapped horizontally, then vertically tight around wrists and ankles; the knots, as always, were way out of the reach of my prying fingers.
Continuing to struggle was useless - and quickly painful – so I gave up and gazed up expectantly at Phil and Mike, who smirked back.
“Okay, maybe you’re wondering why Billy here’s sharing the same fate,” began Mike pointing at the shirtless auburn-haired kid to my left. “Well, you probably know there’s only Adrian and Adam left to capture, so– ”
“Aww, c’mon dude,” interrupted Phil, “let him find it out by himself. It’s gonna be soo funny! I can’t wait to see his face!” He walked up to me, swept my still wet hair clear from my face and patted my cheeks as I glared at him.
“Mmmmph!”
Everyone agreed and without more ado, they walked away West, disappearing behind the tents, which left me to ponder about the strange predicament I had been put into.
My mind was racing. Using me to lure Adrian and Adam was clear, but why did they include Billy in the bait too, if he wasn’t in our team? Why would Adrian wanna release him? It made no sense. Even more, it was way too suspicious, and Adrian wasnt’t that dumb, he wouldn’t walk into what he’d see as a blatant trap.
Time passed by: ten, twenty, thirty minutes. We just waited in silence, which began to get irritable. Nobody appeared. Clad only in my soaked underwear, under the punishing mid-morning sun, the previous coolness of water on my skin was replaced by drops of sweat running down face and chest. Not to mention that my muscles were starting to get stiff – and I hadn’t even dared struggle, knowing all too well the consequences.
A pint of hope emerged when noises started coming from the forest. Like Mike had said, Adrian and Adam turned up. But they didn’t retreat noticing the trap, as I had expected. They saw us, but remained cautious.
Of course they’re gonna realize it. What a crappy trap, Mike.
I swung my head left. Billy looked and smiled at me the best he could under his gag. Then he started to mpphhh loudly.
I rolled my eyes. They’re not gonna buy it!
But the boys started to walk in our direction.
Sooner or later they’ll be able to tell it’s me and Dan –-err, I mean Billy and then… I stopped in my thought.
OH MY GOD! The twins! That’s it! Those cheating bastards! On that instant, it all fitted perfectly: Mike wanted Adrian & Adam to think Billy was his brother Dan! Dan and Billy were identical twins, except Billy was a bit slimmer and boyish than his twin. But we had met them only the day before, so neither Adrian nor Adam would be able to tell the difference, not yet! Even I got confused after hanging out with the twins for a longer time.
“MMMMMMMMMPPPPPPHHHHH!”
Adrian whispered something to Adam and approached cautiously. We were in serious trouble; we would lose if I didn’t find a way to warn my friends now!
Seeing nobody around, Adrian walked up to us. “Are you guys ok?”
“Yhh, ww’re fine. Hrry uff!” said Billy. The boyscouts had deliberately given him a lousy, packless cleave gag so he could speak more understandably than I could!
“Dan, who caught you? Where are them?” asked Adrian in whisper tone, as he understandably untied Billy’s gag first - mine would have taken too much time.
“Just Mike! He went away just a minute ago. C’mon, untie us, quick!” Billy urged them.
All the while I shouted my lungs out. Watch out, is a trap! He’s NOT Dan! But everything was effectively muffled by the squash ball plus tape, and Adrian just chuckled.
“What’s wrong with him?”
“Oh, Nick wants to pee,” Billy answered, grinning at my murdering glares.
“Well, he’s already undressed to his underwear,” Adam laughed at the thought, “so we could just pull-“
“No! Untie us first, they may come back at any time,” Billy cut him off.
So Adrian and Adam did exactly what he had wanted them to do: they tucked their water pistols in their pockets, as both hands were needed to tackle our knots. They squatted beside us, inspecting then bonds: Adrian on mine and Adam on Billy’s. Since the boyscouts had made sure to use complicated, sturdy triple knots, they were also having a hard time untying me.
Persistently, I mpphed through my tape gag at Adrian, but he just hushed me, “Hold it for a minute, would ya? I’m doing it as fast as I can! It’s too damn tight.”
I couldn’t believe this was happening! It was so frustrating to see how those cheating boyscouts’ plan worked to perfection.
Adrian was about to unravel the rope around my left wrist, when Billy cried “NOW!”
Before they could turn around, two shots of stagnant water coming from Mike and Phil’s gun spurted on their backs. An expression of deep shock was printed on our buddy’s faces; it had happened too fast for them to understand. Even more for Adrian, who saw his brother Phil playing on enemy side.
“Hi Adrian,” Phil said cunningly. The boys jaw almost hit the floor.
“Ok, drop your weapons and raise your hands,” ordered Mike.
“What the hell is going on here?!” screamed the blond kid, slowly getting up after James had picked his and Adam’s gun from the ground.
“We just fooled you - and good!” Mike answered.
“What?!”
“The one over there is not Dan,” indicated Phil.
“It’s Billy…” completed Adam, realizing too late.
“Yup.”
“No way!” Adrian blurted out, examining the boy half-tied to the pole, his auburn hair, his light brown eyes, for a hint of confirmation.
“Surprise, surprise!” Billy said.
“But… you… why, bro?” Adrian asked Phil.
“Well, I didn’t wanna lose again, y’know. It was pretty humiliating last time when they were only 5 - it was obvious we wouldn’t beat them this time around, all 10 of ‘em. And if you can’t beat’em, join’em!” he shrugged as if there was nothing reproachable in his actions.
Betrayed and tricked, the ego badly wounded, Adrian gave his brother the fiercest, blood-curling look I had ever seen. He was not angry, he was furious.
“Phil, you have no idea how much this is going to cost you.” He gnashed his teeth at every word.
“Oh, shut up!” retorted Phil and abruptly shoved a rag deep into his brother’s mouth; he used Adrian’s own t-shirt to hold it in place by tying it off savagely tight behind his head, which not only stifled entirely the boy’s sounds, but also put enormous pressure on the corner of his lips.
Soon both of them lay hogtied in front of me. I had the honor and the pleasure (remark also aimed at making me aware of what was aware to everyone else looking at me), according to Mike, to see “knot masters” at work, while I long-sufferingly watched how they tied Adrian and Adam’s hands behind their backs, the elbows together, and finally linked them to beforehand-bound ankles.
Once we were duly trussed up, and Billy was released, they couldn’t help to torture us some.
“A good tie-up is not complete without tickling!” Mike pointed out. The others nodded happily, not to say ecstatically, and launched a relentless attack on poor Adrian and Adam’s bare soles. The strict hogtie further reduced their mobility and they writhed and laughed as they went on to the most sensitive parts of their vulnerable bodies, like Adrian’s skinny ribs or Adam’s ticklish belly.
“Hey, Nick over there seems to want some too,” said James and the FOUR boyscouts surrounded me.
I bit the ball hard and tensed my body, anticipating the start. That’s when the helplessness of that tie-up was noticeable in its fullest degree: every muscle, every part, every little hidden spot was available for the tickle-thirsty boys to plunge their fingers in. I had never felt it that way, so intensely ubiquitous. It was plain cruelty! Tickling was reserved to extract information, not to please the captors! Also, but maybe it was just me, they appeared to have taken a special liking to torturing my body, for it passed the eternity and a little bit before they stopped. When they finished, I was exhausted and breathing heavily; tears had long begun running down my face.
“That’s enough, we don’t want him wetting the only dry cloth he’s got now,” said Mike. Then he told James and Billy to go and call the other boyscouts that had stayed back at our base and bring all prisoners together, so they could pronounce themselves winners. By the rules, the losers would get to spend tied as long as it was deemed enough, the limit being sunset. I was already imagining all sorts of terrible tortures being played on us.
It’s beyond my ability to put into words how amazed Mike was, when, after twenty minutes, both kids returned all wrapped up in duct tape, chest to chest, hands bound behind the other one’s back in a hugging lock, and tape-gagged. Mike almost had a heart attack. A white scarf was tied around the boys’ necks, a sign for truce.
“What the heck happened to you guys?!” Phil said but Mike hushed him.
“Listen!”
Shortly afterwards, the rest of Mike’s team emerged from the woods (Klaus, Scott, Gus, Doug, Rob and Justin) with their upper bodies immobilized in rope, arms bound behind their backs in a chain to the other boyscouts’ arms, and silenced by their own t-shirts. Following them came our teammates, pistol in hands, Collin, Tyler, Chris and Dan, pistols in hand.
Mike and Phil backed up as our friends invaded the camp and had their prisoners sit in a row on a log, and had their ankles tied. Collin at once put them at ease.
"Don't worry, it’s a truce, we’re not attacking you. We just think it’s reasonable to make a deal because there is no way you’ll beat the four of us, and the only thing that could happen is you two getting captured too." He swung an arm across the eight bound boys.
“What do you want?” asked Mike with a scorn.
“It’s clear now we win. And according to the rules, we can take all of you hostages for as long as we want,” Collin explained.
Chris went on, “We don’t really care about that. We’ll call it a tie, but we only ask one thing.”
“And that would be…?”
“Him!” Tyler pointed a finger at Phil, our Judas.
The kid’s green eyes widened in terror, “What?! Are you kidding?! Mike, please tell me you’re not taking their crap. We can still win!”
Chris continued, “We are also gonna let all our eight prisoners go in exchange for that little traitor.” It was the best bargain the boyscout leader could get – and he knew it. Not even the wisest strategist and negotiator would reject the offer.
“So, what do you say?” asked Tyler.
Mike, a prideful kid as he was, couldn’t bear the idea of losing to a bunch of non-boyscout city kids.
After a long silence, during which Phil pathetically implored for mercy, Mike went to where Adrian lay hogtied without saying a word; he untied him completely, handed him a long piece of rope and said with a smile, “Don’t let him get away.”
Adrian immediately understood. He jumped on his feet and made a quick knot to convert the rope into a lasso, then waving a big loop in the air. Phil panicked at the sight. If he fell in Adrian hands, the question wouldn’t be what he would do to him, but what we would not do. So you can imagine how heartily he demanded his legs to take him away as fast as possible.
I couldn’t help mmmphing a few cries of joy as an exciting chase ensued; the younger boy sprinted across the campsite and almost made it to the woods, but his brother’s expertly calculated lasso roped his feet and brought him down with a thud. Before Phil could react, Adrian pounced him, turned him on his back, and lashed his ankles together. He forced his brother’s lean arms behind his back; and holding with one hand, he used the remaining length of rope to bind the wrists. After completing the hogtie, Adrian knotted it off and placed a foot on the kid’s head.
“I always win, bro.”
Phil, staring blankly at the sky, could utter nothing in reply - a hand quickly pushed a scarf past beyond his teeth and secured it with a cloth tied around his head.
After Mike’s part of the agreement was fulfilled, we released the boyscouts as agreed and soon - freedom at last! - we were untied. Apart from being extenuated and some nice rope burns, I was okay.
We then enjoyed a nice meal, it was near noon, prepared by the scouts, no hard feelings. Phil didn’t have any; he just remained staked out, shirtless, gagged and continuously tickled, in front of us.
There was a general chatter about the previous events, where I got the opportunity to straight things up.
“There’s still one thing I don’t get, Dan. How on earth did you manage to untie yourselves and besides capture all the boyscouts that were guarding you?”
“Oh, easy! Actually, they helped us with that.”
I looked quizzically at him.
“You see, they asked us if we wanted some water. It was like 40º C [104 º F] out there, we all were like ‘YES!!!’ They thought it’d be funny, so they poured dozens of water buckets on us – but we had the last laugh! What they forgot was that duct tape comes off pretty easy when wet,” he explained chuckling.
“So we struggled ourselves free,” Collin continued, “waited for the right moment when they weren’t looking and jumped them. Overpowering them didn’t come easy, but we’re good. We captured the others one by one as they came back and we were almost done tying them up, when Billy and James showed up, all cocky about us being still trussed up that they didn’t even carry their guns. So we taped them together, put the flag around their necks, and sent them back to Mike as a little present. All we had to do then was follow their way!” We broke in a general laughter, except for the boyscouts, of course.
Then I went looking for Collin. He had avoided me since the end of the game, and I wanted to apologize for the little trust I had displayed when I chose to believe Phil instead of him. I’d only known him for a day, but I’d enjoyed tagging along with him so much that I was starting to miss him already.
I noticed the white muddy shorts he’d been wearing outside his tent, so I assumed he was changing inside. He was rummaging his bag when I came in but he didn’t raise his head or show any signs of noticing my presence.
“Hey,” I said shyly after a while, my voice fading off to a whisper. Collin didn’t answer. His face displayed a cold look, somewhat increased by the bright blond hair that fell over his eyes.
“That mud is going to be a bitch to scrub off,” I pointed out.
Silence.
I just stood there, wondering what to do. Collin kept searching for clothes, even though he already had a pair of clean shorts in his hand.
“C’mon Collin, this is stupid!” I kneeled in front of him.
“I’m sorry, ok?” I said with sincere guilt. “I didn’t mean to–“
“It’s fine,” Collin said at last without looking at me.
“Really?” I asked. I had expected a little more resistance than this.
“Yeah, it’s okay. It was just a game.” His tone betrayed his words.
“Wait, no, this isn’t right. Phil was lying! Look, lemme make it up to you.”
Collin stared at me dumbfounded.
“What do you want? Anything, just ask it,” I said.
“Thanks, Nick, but it’s okay. Really.”
“No! I took advantage of you!”
“But…“
“Ok, punch me.”
“What?!”
“Punch me!” I ordered.
“I’m not going to – “
“Come on!” I opened my arms exposing my stomach.
I remained in that position for a few seconds. He hesitated. I nodded.
“You’re not leaving me alone till I do something, right?”
“Yup.” I grinned.
He rolled his eyes and clenched his fist, threw his arm back and plunged it straight into my body. I stumbled and fell on my butt, but barely felt the strike.
Collin instantly crawled up to me, noticeably worried.
“Nick?!”
“Ok, that was pathetic,” I said. “You punch like a girl.” He frowned and I chucked.
“I think there’s no point in trying again, but I still feel I owe you, dude.” He’d told me the day before he lived pretty close to my house, so I came up with an interesting idea. “Let’s do this: I tied you up for no reason, so it’s only fair you get to do the same. I’ll give you a free tie-up coupon. Anywhere, anytime, just text me.” I smiled.
He opened his eyes wide and opened his mouth, ready to protest.
“No buts.”
Before he said anything else, I offered him my hand. “Deal?”
I looked right into his eyes. Collin looked away, curled his lips into a sheepish smile and blushed slightly, as thought a sudden thought had crossed his mind. He stared at me, struggling to sound casual.
“Ok, but only ‘cause you said so!”
I grinned back and shook his hand.
“Deal,” he said.
We spent the rest of the afternoon hanging out, doing random stuff, playing cards or swimming in the creek. But it quickly became late so we called it a day and got our things ready to go back to the farm (as lenient as Mr. Silva was with us, he wouldn’t want us disappearing for two entire days).
Also, I sensed the others were secretly looking forward to returning - we still had a traitor to punish. Things were basically pretty screwed up for Phil now. I almost felt sorry for him! Almost…