Chapter 7

XX


Colonel Douglas Harding glanced up from the stack of reports he was reading, wondering why so many teachers, despite his efforts to spread the truth, seemed to think discipline was the sole responsibility of the Commandant's Department. It was everyone's job to make sure the cadets had the discipline and structure they needed. Everyone was part of the process. Parents, teachers, administration, military staff, everyone. Not every decision on discipline needed to be run by the Commandant and not every problem had to be walked right to his door, as if he was the only person around here who handled such matters.

Within the Department, of course, Harding had good deputies, men who had an average of twenty years in uniform and understood their role well. Too many teachers with civilian backgrounds didn't get how the system was supposed to work, but the assistant commandants and the TAC officers did. Harding was fortunate to have such a capable team.

And a good thing he did, too, because the job didn't look like it was getting any easier. It looked like the Cold War was coming to an end at long last, and the Soviet Union might not have much time left. But here, at Bunker Hill, things were complicated as ever. The matter of all those dead boys on the island, that plane crash out there in the Pacific…

It was fortunate that any of them had made it back. By all accounts, what Jack Merridew had done in leading the others to forage for food and build shelter, survive a fierce tropical storm and defeat Ralph Meyer and his loyalists when Meyer apparently went mad with power, was nothing short of heroic. The youngest cadets who had been there adored Jack now, and the older boys- it was hard to say what was going on with them.

Andrew Wells, Larry MacDonald, Sean Lamilton- all of them had come back greatly changed alongside Jack Merridew. They were taller, considerably more muscular, their voices deepened. Their athletic talent was unsurpassed, and they had uniformly excelled in the tryouts each of them had gone up for. They, like Jack, were also a great deal more arrogant and pushy than they had ever been before.

But not Robert Patterson. That brown-haired boy was an extraordinarily strong and fit individual, but otherwise, he had changed little since the island. He had been promoted to Cadet First Sergeant, and by all accounts was handling his responsibilities well. He remained modest and tended to have little to say, but that was how he had been before the island. Patterson preferred to let others talk, but when he did say something, he meant it.

Cadet Captain Jack Merridew could have benefited from Patterson's example. Jack had worked his way up the chain in his past two years at Bunker Hill, advancing steadily despite the massive chip on his shoulder and an utterly undisciplined temper. Physically rather weak, he had relied upon Cadet Captain Roger Camden to back up his word in the barracks. Now, Jack was his own heavyweight. Andrew Wells, just promoted yesterday to Cadet First Lieutenant to replace Jack as Band Company XO, was his new right-hand-man with Roger gone.

The boys in the barracks had called Roger "the Right Arm" because of how utterly indispensable he was to Jack as he bullied, pushed and shoved his way around Bunker Hill. Reckless, daring, and handsome, Jack had been immensely popular at Bunker Hill before and was said to be growing in popularity now.

How was it that Patterson, Wells, Lamilton, MacDonald, and Merridew all turned into a bunch of adolescent bodybuilders? Harding wondered. MacDonald is still eleven years old, Wells is thirteen. And even the ones who were teenagers before that month on the island have changed considerably. Some of them are showing behavior I never saw from them before. Wells was pretty easygoing overall, and MacDonald was just a kid. He was scared of his own shadow when he started here last fall.

What was going on with that crew Jack Merridew had around him, Harding had no idea. But it was his job to find out. They had changed greatly since Harding had last seen them, and there seemed to be no explanation as to why.

Three clear, sharp knocks on the closed door to Harding's office announced a visitor. Since his staff used four knocks as instructed, Harding knew it was a cadet outside. "Enter!" Harding called.

The door opened, and Jack Merridew strode in, tall and magnificent in his Class B service dress blues. He saluted smartly. "Cadet Captain Merridew reporting as ordered, sir!"

"Be seated," Harding said curtly. Jack took the plain cushioned chair to the left, which creaked quite audibly under his weight. Harding took his time with speaking, letting Jack sit under his stare for almost a full minute. It didn't seem to bother the blond teenager much. He had always been a pretty cool customer, absolutely convinced he was tough and ready to prove it.

Were that inner strength only combined with Bunker Hill's moral code, Jack Merridew would have been on track to be regimental commander by now. His natural brains and charisma had always been tragically squandered on serving himself alone.

"Do you know why you're here, Mr. Merridew?" Harding asked finally.

"No, sir," Jack said.

"William Zayne said you started a fight in the weight room just recently. Beat him up and kicked him and a group of his friends out of there."

Jack blinked. "I don't recall that," he said. "Sir, I would remember if there had been a fight. There wasn't a fight. It wasn't like he said at all."

"You know my rule has always been to come clean and make it easier on yourself," Harding warned.

"I know that, sir."

"So stop lying to me."

"I'm not ly-"

"Yes, you are. You are trying to throw up a smoke-screen and hide from me what I already know. You think you're a lot smarter and sneakier than you are, Merridew."

Anger flared in Jack's blue eyes. He suppressed it quickly, but Harding had seen it.

"Well, sir," Jack said, "why don't you tell me what you're gonna do about it, if you already know what happened?"

"What do you think I ought to do about it?"

"Sir, I don't know. I don't have your authority. I can't say."

Harding could see frustration more than anger now. Jack felt- hemmed in? Pestered? Maybe he was just being defensive. He'd lived like Robinson Crusoe and been forced into leading the other boys. Most of them remained alive thanks to his efforts. This had to feel like an injustice after the way he'd lived for so long out there in the Pacific Ocean.

"Mr. Merridew, I can use this as an opportunity to say I appreciate what you did out there on that island, and so does everyone else here at Bunker Hill. You were put in a difficult situation and you had to work hard day and night to keep yourself and your classmates alive. You did that well, but you also got to do things your way, without anyone there to stop you. It might even be safe to say you lived a month of being in charge with no limits at all. Is that right?"

"Yes, sir," Jack said. "We were out there in nature. It was nothing except us. We had to hunt and look for fruit, and berries and stuff."

"Life without any limitations may be a dream of yours, Mr. Merridew, and if that helped you to keep the other boys alive while you were on that island, that's just fine with me. But you are not on that island anymore. You are at Bunker Hill. And what you did to Mr. Zayne was unacceptable."

"I'm not allowed to fight when provoked, sir?"

"No, and assaulting a cadet of higher rank is an even worse offense. I'm assigning you 12 hours of marching tours with a rifle. You can pick up an M1 from Gunnery Sergeant Adams first thing after classes let out this afternoon."

Jack's eyes narrowed. "Okay, sir."

"Don't make a habit of this and we won't have to have these conversations," Harding reminded him. "That's all."

The blond teen stood up. "Sir, what happened to Will Newmark? He doesn't seem to be back here at school."

"That's because he's in jail," Harding answered. "Apparently he assaulted his father at home, the police were called and they arrested him. He's being held pending a trial." Harding paused. "It's too bad. I know you were hoping to see him back at school with you, and I'd hoped to see him again, myself." Harding paused again, looking Jack right in the eyes. "But boys who ignore the rules and act without thinking of the consequences should expect a fate like Newmark's. Don't you agree, Mr. Merridew?"

That infamous Merridew temper flared again, but Jack didn't say anything for several seconds. He finally begrudgingly said, "Yes, sir."

Harding nodded. "Dismissed, Mr. Merridew."

XX

Jack was seething as he left the Commandant's office. He kept it together, somehow, but he badly needed to vent. His slave had snitched on him! Maybe it had been before the rape, maybe after. It made no difference.

There was no way Jack could let this stand. He couldn't get out of marching those fucking tours, but Will Zayne was due for more breaking, quite obviously. And Jack needed to relax. How lucky, then, that Jack could think of a dozen ways to catch his slave alone and take care of both things at once.

On the island, Jack had been merciless and loved every second of it. He'd known the joy of experiencing pleasure in exchange for someone else's pain, and he knew he would go the rest of his life without ever forgetting that feeling.

Will Zayne was going to learn more about being on the receiving end of that. Jack was going to break this slave or kill him trying.

XX

Andy grinned as he fell on top of his opponent, pinning him to the mat. The thick, heavy muscle that decked the redhead's frame allowed him to effortlessly force the weaker boy, an 8th grader who was trying hard but not hard enough, to stay completely still. Grunting and sweating, the weaker boy tried to get Andy off him, tried to break loose, but nothing worked.

The close physical contact delighted Andy. He had overpowered one opponent after another ever since the day of tryouts, and absolutely loved wearing his team uniform. It left the shoulders and arms bare, showing off the best of Andy's rock-hard, sculpted muscle. Andy would have cheerfully wrestled naked, but this outfit was the next best thing.

"Come on, Daniels," Andy sneered, putting one armpit right over the weaker boy's face. "What's the matter? Don't you like it on your back?"

"Damn it," Daniels grunted. "This- isn't- fair!"

"Nothing's fair," Andy said. "You're just weak."

"All right, Wells!" Coach Hendricks called. "He's been pinned in place long enough, you won!"

"Better luck next time, weakling," Andy sneered. He stood up, raising his arms high as his audience cheered and applauded for him. Many of the younger boys were especially awed by Andy's strength and wanted to be like him. Brian Philips was with Luke and John, part of a growing pack of boys who wanted to be a part of The Wave.

Andy's property was on his feet in the gym stands, cheering louder than anyone else. Andy ignored him, but kept his fists high for almost a minute, egging the other boys on. "I'm the best! I will beat the rest! Lemme hear it! No one can beat me!" Andy shouted.

This was awesome, the very best life Andy could possibly imagine. His immense physical strength had made him the undisputed alpha of the wrestling team, and short of Jack there was no one more feared and respected in the school. Andy was the king wrestler, the expert slavebreaker, Jack's new right-hand-man. This was the life, and it was only going to get better.

XX

Seth hollered and screamed as Andy defeated yet another one of those little weakling kids on the Lower School's team, once again proving he was the alpha male, the best. That talk with Marcus had done Seth a world of good, but better still was Seth's mind… processing… what he was going through.

After so much pain, after so many beatings and humiliations, it had taken a brief pause and a conversation with his friend to make Seth see the truth. Endless anguish and misery had driven Seth to begin realizing something. He had been wrong before. The punishments he'd been subjected to hadn't actually been cruelty. They had been justice dispensed to someone weak.

Allison had left Seth for Andy, and the two of them had begun having sex that same day. Seth even watched it once. He remembered feeling humiliated at the time, deeply hurt by both his brother and his ex-girlfriend. But Allison had been right. She was mating with the alpha. It was pointless for her to waste her time on a weakling and a slave. And Andy, who had physical needs Allison could meet, had been right to take her. If Seth had been strong, he would have kept her.

There was nothing Seth didn't like about Andy, now that he really thought about it. He was so self-confident, so completely in charge, so muscular, so strong. No one could tell him no. No one would even dare. Seth had experienced all this time and again. There was no resisting Andy!

Seth whooped and cheered as Andy defeated the next boy even quicker than the first, and he grinned and cheered even louder when Andy finally looked his way and smiled. It made Seth so happy to see that. He was coming around at last, he knew. Andy had only been doing what he had to. Mom and Dad had learned the lesson, and finally, Seth was learning it, too.

Andy might have been the younger brother, but he had proven himself the strongest of anyone in his home. He had proven he deserved to be served by his weak older brother, and even by his parents. Seth used to feel fear when he looked at Andy. Now he saw what his brother really was: a badass! Seth couldn't wait to be given orders now. He was thrilled to be so close to someone this powerful. To be allowed to shine that person's shoes, iron their uniforms- what a privilege that was!

Of all the people in the world to have as a younger brother, Seth had been given Andy, who was rapidly emerging as his idol and hero. The more Seth thought about it, the less he felt terror or despair. Why would he want to feel like that when he could be proud that his older brother and Master was the apex alpha male?

Things were going to get better now, Seth knew it. He felt better every day. The more he became aware of his hero-worship of Andy, the easier everything was. And his Master was being kinder, too, as Seth became more willing to serve and better at doing so. Everything was looking up. Seth just hoped he could help Andy achieve the greatness he was meant for.

It was out there, just waiting for Andy to take it. And Seth couldn't wait to see that happen.

XX

Arianna Lovejoy sat on her bed in the Dean's house on campus, listening to the distant sound of drums beating as the band practiced, of boys shouting, singing, calling cadence. She had long since become used to those sounds, and the sight of fit boys in buzz-cuts and uniforms.

But not entirely bored. The boys were all trying to catch her eye. Arianna had become the ultimate trophy for 400 sex-starved teenagers the moment her father became the Dean at Bunker Hill. She had responded the way any girl of breeding and privilege would- by ignoring them. Few of the boys much interested Arianna anyway. They were all a bunch of idiots.

There had been Jack Merridew, for a time. The lanky blond with his fantastic looks and his cocky smile had interested Arianna, then annoyed her, then interested her and annoyed her some more. They had flirted and bickered for two years, a couple of kids in a love-hate relationship. But now Jack was a bodybuilder, and his looks and arrogance had both gotten so much more intense. Jack, Andy, Rapper, Larry- they all lived to work out now. Whatever they had done on the island had amped them up like crazy.

The good part was they were stunning with their shirts off. The bad part was they were really, really crude. They wanted to sleep with Arianna and were not shy or subtle about saying so. Arianna was sixteen and hadn't had her first yet, and while sometimes she thought about it, the boys who tried to talk to her were typically either scared to death of her, or trying way too hard to seem macho. Neither one was appealing. Jack's crew, back from the island, was in a third category that was even worse.

Jack still wanted Arianna like he had before, but he looked at her like Arianna imagined some jungle predator animal looked at prey. He didn't act like the kid he had been before. Jack was different now. More confident, more in-charge. His earlier bravado had been an effort to mask insecurity, but Arianna had kind of liked that. For one thing, she'd been able to have fun at times by poking holes in Jack's ego.

That wasn't possible anymore. It may have been a balloon once, but now Jack's ego was a suit of armor. He seemed perpetually surrounded by other boys now, all of them worshiping him and trying their best to please him. There was no kid in Jack like there had been, or in Rapper, or Andy, or Larry. They were predators, and Arianna didn't want to go near them.

Patterson, now… he was different. No one else on Jack's crew was anything like him.

Sure, he'd picked up weightlifting in a big way, just like the others. Patterson was tall, extremely fit and muscular- probably looked incredible in his underwear! He sure did in a swimsuit. But unlike the others in Jack's little inner circle, Patterson hadn't looked at Arianna like some piece of meat. He hadn't done that once, not even when the rest of Jack's gang were all doing it on that first day back.

I wasn't entirely sure why I went to the swim-team tryouts, but I think I know now. It was Patterson. I wanted to see him with his shirt off, and damn did he look good! And he swam through that water so fast! No wonder his teammates were calling him 'The Shark' by the time it was over! But he's barely even looked at me. I wonder why he hasn't really looked at me.

Patterson hadn't even once leered at her or verbally lusted after her. Arianna was used to that, albeit not as crudely as Jack and his gang liked to do. To have a boy not do so- not at all- and yet also not stutter while trying to speak to her, or keep sneaking glances at her… that was…

Unusual.

There. That was the word. Unusual. That's what Patterson was. He was unlike any of the others in Jack's little gang. And privately Arianna thought he was the best-looking out of all of them. The way that brown hair looked as he was just nearing time to go to the barber again, the way that suntanned skin glistened over all that muscle when the light from the skylights in the pool hit him just right…

But Patterson didn't seem to know that Arianna had noticed him. Or he knew but didn't care. He was part of Jack's gang but didn't act like them. He shared their awesome physiques but had none of their arrogance. And instead of lusting after Arianna like practically every other boy did, Patterson paid virtually no attention to her at all. He was… interesting. And Arianna was curious.

XX

Gabe Edwards was nervous. He couldn't seem to stop fidgeting. All through practice he'd been worried and had trouble concentrating, but he'd kept it together… somehow.

Then practice was paused, and Gabe listened as the guys started talking about who should be the team captain for this year. Before Gabe could try to stop it, several guys had spoken up and nominated him.

"No," Gabe said, staying calm and trying to look modest. "I don't think it should be me. I'm okay, but that's average. We don't need average, we don't want average. We want exceptional and that's what Larry MacDonald is."

"Him?" several boys asked in disbelief.

"He's too young, man!"

"He just joined, we can't make him captain!"

"Listen," Gabe said. "He's amazing. MacDonald is phenomenal. He's perfect for the job. There's no one better. You've all seen him play. He's a prodigy! He can lead, too; he's already made sergeant over in Band Company. And as much as he knows about soccer there's nobody better to lead us this year. He's already proven how good he is. No one will get results like Larry MacDonald will."

"I'll do it, if you'd rather have someone older in charge," Tristan Pearson said matter-of-factly. "No offense to you, Edwards, but I think we need an upperclassman captain, like we've always had. So, you guys can vote for the new kid if you want. Or you can vote for me."

The boys talked about it a little more, argued some, but no further contenders came forward. Everyone was divided over whether Larry MacDonald or Tristan Pearson should be in charge. But Gabe wasn't worried. He'd talked to several of his friends on the team beforehand, gotten their support.

The result was just what Gabe had hoped for. The majority supported Larry, and just like that, an eleven-year-old was made the new Varsity Soccer Team captain! The muscular blond boy shook hands with Pearson, then smirked at Gabe.

I said I was never gonna call an 11-year-old 'Master', Gabe thought bitterly. That's what I said. Look where I am now. He's my Captain and Master. He ordered me to campaign for him and then nominate him at practice, and I obeyed without even thinking.

Even after getting beaten up by the tall, muscular young jock, Gabe had completely underestimated how terrifyingly strong Larry was, how cruelly vicious. His right hand drifted unconsciously toward his rear. The terrible memory of what he'd endured abruptly put Gabe on the verge of a panic attack. He began to tremble, his heartbeat climbed, and sweat broke out on his forehead.

Can't. Can't happen again. Please. Anything. I'll do anything. Anything my Master wants just as long as he doesn't do that to me again. Ready to follow orders, Master. Just- not that. Not again. Please, Master.

With a lot of effort, Gabe managed to slowly calm himself down, but he remained distant and quiet through the rest of practice. The guys thought he was just keeping his head down, perhaps hiding his disappointment at not getting to be the team captain, even if he'd nominated Larry. Memory of what Larry had done to him terrified Gabe every time he even looked at Larry. He was never going back and facing that again. Larry had won. Gabe was going to swallow his pride and do whatever his superboy Captain and Master commanded.

XX

By Friday afternoon on the second week back, the word had been passed that the time had come. Everyone who wanted to be a part of The Wave was expected to be at the gym at 9:20PM. Luke and John were there, handing out pamphlets they'd worked together to type up the previous day in the library.

Seth Wells, William Zayne, Gabriel Edwards, Samuel Thompson, and Robert Elwin all had been working the different barracks, spreading the word, and they each brought in groups of boys as they arrived.

The cadets filtered in by the dozen. They were curious, intrigued. Everyone knew that The Wave was a movement, and they knew some of the names and faces associated with it. They knew that Larry, Andy, Rapper, Patterson, and Jack were all members, and that they had founded The Wave while fighting to survive a thousand miles from civilization on the island. They knew The Wave was something powerful, and had been told that if they wanted the benefits, if they wanted to have the extraordinary talent and fitness the lead survivors from the island had, they had better get in on the ground floor.

Some had come because they'd been ordered to, like Jack's boys from Band Company. From the youngest to the oldest, every cadet in his company was here. Patterson was on the floor, steering boys into the stands. Luke and John eventually handed off pamphlet duty to Brian Philips and some boys he'd brought with him, and started the process of whipping the boys up. They couldn't be permitted to lay around in the stands, getting bored. No, they needed purpose, direction. By the time Jack arrived, they needed to be screaming for him to appear, absolutely dying to know what this really was all about.

Determined to impress the leader to whom they had sworn total loyalty, John and Luke started the chants and cheers they had been taught.

XX

Rapper and Larry stood behind Jack, who was waiting behind some double doors an adjacent hallway. Beside him was Andy. Under his left shoulder, a small piece of paper marked "SS" in black marker was pinned. Rapper, Patterson, and Larry all wore one.

It was Larry's idea. He'd surprised everyone by bringing up how the SS had been Adolf Hitler's personal guard, and since Jack was the leader of The Wave he needed an SS, too. Nobody was sure what "Schutzstaffel" meant, but Larry had apparently planned for that. The new SS was the "Security Service", he said.

There was no way of making plastic ID cards or something- at least not yet- but Andy had hand-drawn a stylized symbol of three waves on the back of each piece of paper. Below the image were the letters "T3WIS", for "The Third Wave Is Strongest", another item Andy had pulled from the book.

Jack still struggled to believe that a book could ever contain anything interesting. He struggled to make sense of how first Andy had gone off the deep end and started reading, then Larry had found that book containing stuff about Hitler's SS. But both of them had found something useful. The Wave was literally a fucking ripoff of a book. Jack hated the idea of using anything from a book, hated starting this with an idea some dork had written down. But he loved power, loved crowds and being in charge. And Andy had a point about taking anything that was useful and making it yours.

Jack shifted on his feet, feeling restless. He loved being the center of attention, working the crowd. It felt silly to stand out here in the hallway. Jack had wanted to be right in there as everyone showed up, but Andy had insisted on this said, it was more dramatic. He'd also been the one to think of having all the key members from the island be wearing their full dress grays.

"Why am I not out there, again?" Jack asked, turning to Andy, who was rapidly turning into his political manager. Where he got half the stuff he knew, Jack didn't know, but if it was those fucking books, maybe they were good for something after all.

"To make it more dramatic," Andy said. "You're the leader. You appear when you want to, go when and where you want to. All those guys out there are here to see you, Jack. They need to wait while Luke and John get 'em fired up."

"Why isn't Patterson doing anything with that?"

"Patterson's the strong, silent type, Jack."

"He better be the strong, loyal type," Jack grumbled.

"He is," Andy said. "He wouldn't be SS if he wasn't. Larry and I got your back."

"No one can fucking threaten me," Jack flared. "How do I know this isn't gonna make me look weak?"

"Because you're fucking powerful, Jack, and you have followers willing to do anything you tell them. We're proof you're the real thing."

Jack cracked a smile. "You wanna see my real thing, Larry?"

"Mine's so big I'd just embarrass you, Jack."

Now Jack laughed, and he reached over and patted a hand on one of Larry's muscular shoulders. "Nobody's more loyal than you, Larry."

"I'm here if you want someone killed, just saying," Rapper spoke up.

"And where would you be without your chief of staff?" Andy asked.

Jack waved a hand dismissively. "I don't need any of you losers."

"That's why you hang out with us so much?" Larry asked, grinning.

"Jack, you remember what we talked about for the speech?" Andy asked.

"This started on the island and grew from there, the lessons of self-discipline bore fruit- what the fuck does that mean?"

"Keep going," Andy said patiently.

"Uh, fuck. Okay. So, yeah, the lessons of self-discipline bore fruit and enabled us to not only survive but prosper. After overcoming what Ralph tried to do to us, we instituted a virtually perfect society. What we wanna do now is bring the lessons we learned there here, to the rest of the world, and apply them. The Wave will be led by its first members, the ones who… who already learned the lessons The Wave teaches. The ones living The Wave will lead it. And-"

"Hey!"

Larry yelped the word first, but in less than a second Andy and Rapper had followed suit. Larry had drawn and deployed a switchblade and had it pointed straight at Tristan Pearson's neck, while Andy had moved between Pearson and Jack. Rapper had turned the opposite direction in case Pearson was a diversion.

Where the fuck did Larry get that knife? Jack thought with wonder. He's that ready to protect me. That's how serious he takes this. If I'm gonna have an SS I think I know who I want in charge of it.

Staying very still, Pearson said, "Guys, I just got lost coming back from the latrine. What the hell is going on?"

Larry glanced questioningly at Jack, awaiting orders.

"It's okay, Larry," Jack said. "Larry runs my security detail, Pearson. When you're this important you gotta have bodyguards."

"Bodyguards?" Pearson said in disbelief. "Man, Zayne and the other guys practically dragged me to this rally of yours, but I don't think I ought to be here. I can't be seen here. MacDonald isn't supposed to have that damn knife and I can't be seen around anything like this."

"You watch your fuckin' mouth," Larry threatened.

"I didn't do a thing to you!" Pearson snapped. "I didn't ask to get dragged to this damn rally or whatever it is, and if my father hears about this-"

"I hope that's not a threat," Andy said. "I recommend you don't threaten Jack, Pearson."

"I'm not threatening him, I'm worried about me!"

"Pearson," Jack said, "calm down. Larry just overreacted. You're fine. I want you here for this. You're a guest. Go on inside. We're about to start."

"Nobody's hurt," Rapper said. "Everyone's just fine."

"Yeah," Pearson said warily. "Okay. But MacDonald, you- you keep that damn knife away from me. You understand?"

"I don't take orders from you."

"You want people to join this- this Wave thing, don't put a knife in their face," Pearson said. "It's bad salesmanship." He turned and headed back the way he had come, then headed left into the gym.

"Fucking pussy," Larry sneered.

"The richest boys here all listen to him," Jack said. "Larry, we want influential guys like him joining The Wave."

"But he tried to- he got too close!" Larry protested.

"Larry, be honest. Do you even need a knife?"

"No," Larry said. "I could go kill him with my bare hands right now, though."

"Who do you want to be when you grow up, Larry?"

"You."

"What about your parents?"

"Fuck my parents," Larry said dismissively. "They pay for shit. They don't matter."

Jack smiled. All his life Jack had hungered for the chance to be something. More recently, it had been about proving his jerkoff stepdad wrong. He'd convinced Mom to send her son here "to keep him out of trouble." Jack had stayed out of trouble, all right. Now he was the trouble. Something fucking amazing had to be in Jack's future if he had a growing circle of boys willing to follow him unquestioningly.

Oh, yes. It is only getting better from here.

"Jack," Andy said. "We practiced your speech a bunch. You think it was enough?"

"Have I ever failed before?" Jack asked with a smirk.

"No," Andy acknowledged. "You alone led us to survive and prosper on the island. You alone defeated Ralph. You alone made The Wave possible, as it was your mind and will that taught the first members the lessons everyone else must learn."

"Wow," Larry said. "You fucking hear that, Jack?"

"Not bad," Jack said. "You guys just stay loyal to me. Do that and you'll have everything you want."

"I already do," Larry said, looking up adoringly at Jack.

"You're the best, Larry," Jack said fondly, ruffling the boy's hair.

Larry snapped to attention and presented The Wave salute.

Just then, there were two knocks on one of the double doors. Seth opened it, bowing his head to Jack and the others.

"Everyone is ready and waiting, Master," Seth said.

"That's great, Seth." Andy paused. "How's it look out there?"

"We got at least a quarter of the school there, Master," Seth said excitedly. He kept his eyes on the ground, but he gestured with his hands as he talked. "The Wave's going to kick ass, Master. I can't wait to hear the Chief speak."

Patterson came up behind Seth, looking at Jack. "We're ready."

"Okay," Jack said. "Andy, have your slave hold the door open. Let's go."

XX

Led by the enslaved older boys and fervent recruits like Brian Philips, the boys gathered in the basketball gym screamed and cheered when Jack strode out into the center of the court under the blazing lights, towering and invincible in his full dress grays. Dozens of boys rendered The Wave salute, and Jack returned it as his bodyguards stood behind him, alert as always. Seth was shouting louder than any of the other slaves. Jack was impressed; Seth had truly broken. He was thinking more like The Wave demanded every day.

Of course, William Zayne was close behind him. Another rape had broken the last of his independent spirit. Jack couldn't believe he'd once held some qualms, deep down, about doing that. Forcing yourself on someone was a hell of a lot of fun. And as a slave-breaking method it was quick, brutal, and effective.

Andy shouted, "QUIET! Jack Merridew, our Chief and first member of The Wave, will now speak!"

Around a hundred boys fell silent almost instantly. Jack could see some of them watching apprehensively; Pearson and some of his crew were foremost among them. Many, many others were holding their breath, though, eagerly waiting to see what Jack would say. Jack Merridew was a legend in this school. He had been famous before the island, but now, his reputation was approaching the status of myth.

Jack raised his voice, and the deepened baritone voice he'd picked up on the island carried effortlessly across the vast expanse of the gym.

"Discipline. To some, it is just a word. To others it is a code. To members of The Wave, it is a way of life. After landing on that island, I realized no one but the strongest of us would survive. It was survival of the fittest, and the hardships there purged the weak from our ranks. It was there that I realized what life in the jungle had to teach us all about strength. About discipline. The Wave was founded there, far out in the Pacific. It is a monument to the lessons we learned. There, the lessons of self-discipline bore fruit and enabled us to not only survive but prosper.

After overcoming what Ralph tried to do to us, we instituted the first perfect society. All were devoted to a cause bigger than themselves. All were devoted to the common good. What we intend to do now is bring the lessons we learned there to the rest of the world, and apply them. The Wave will be led by its first members, the ones who have already learned The Wave's lessons. Look at us. We have lived The Wave for only a few months and our lives have been completely transformed. Swear loyalty to The Wave, swear loyalty to me, and you will reap the benefits. Commit yourself to a cause that is far greater than any the world has ever known. Commit yourself to discipline, to unity, to strength, to action. Commit yourself to The Wave."

The boys in the stands went absolutely crazy. They jumped up and down, stomped their feet, clapped, roared their approval. Many of them rendered The Wave salute. A couple got smart and did the Nazi salute, but Jack was pleased to see some of the devout correct them. A few boys didn't look impressed, and they hung back while most of their peers cheered and hollered. Jack's eyes scanned the audience, and he was pleased to see those holdouts were few, indeed.

Patterson approached Jack, gave The Wave salute.

"Sir," he said in a raised voice, "we have new recruits ready to join."

"Let them swear loyalty," Jack answered.

"Yes, sir." Patterson turned and called out to the stands, "Those of you who have the courage and strength to join, hold your right arm in the salute of The Wave." He demonstrated it, and within moments more than eighty boys ranging from ten to seventeen were holding the salute.

Then Andy turned and called out to them, "Repeat after me: I swear to The Wave, and to my Chief, Jack Merridew, loyalty, bravery, and self-discipline. I vow to him and to all my teachers who will lead me down the path of The Wave obedience unto death. The world will be remade in a new image, and for the rest of my life, I will serve a cause infinitely greater than myself. Strength through unity! Strength through discipline! Strength through action!"

After repeating the oath, the new boys looked exhilarated. Thrilled. They yelled and whooped and uttered war cries. Finally, Andy calmed them down. Andy and Patterson, plus Seth and the other slaves, took the names of everyone who had joined, then congratulated them and sent them back to the barracks.

Jack watched all this proudly, smiling to himself. Everything was going just the way he'd planned.


A/N: 1-10-2019

Completed the new chapter 4 days after AM83220 sent me a new narrative on 1-6-2019. I actually started work and wrote much of this chapter that same day, but other factors conspired to distract me. Additionally, I figured it best to take some additional time and make sure the chapter was properly written and edited. Better not to rush it. So, by this time Andy's steady supply of ideas to Jack is getting better and more advanced. Larry has seen to it that Jack's Hunters now make up the core of his new personal guard. Blatantly stealing from and plagiarizing Todd Strasser's book, plus various historical events and organizations, is a standard feature for The Wave. But anyone involved in it either does not know about that or does not care.

The next chapter will be up as soon as I am supplied with a new narrative by AM83220. After that, it should be 5-7 days until the chapter is written, edited and published. Make sure to take a look at AM83220's work if you like mine. Feel free to leave a review for this chapter. And thank you, to AM83220, for your cooperation and support.