I apologize for taking so long with the update. Thanks for all your reviews and above that, your patience. I've thought about posting chapter-progress updates on my twitter account ( ZombieSauce). If you're interested in keeping tabs on my progress so you won't keep wondering when I'm going to update, I'll go ahead and tweet those progress updates. Just let me know if you're interested.

Hope you enjoy the new chapter.

Chapter Five

Two weeks after my injury Doug finally quit calling me Officer Gimpy. And mothering me. Of course, he had to have help from Judy and Harry. Jenks would watch with an amused expression on his face. All of it drove me nuts.

June Nineteenth was a Friday. On Friday nights after work the four of us went out; sometimes Jenks and Blowfish (Maintenance Engineer Sal Banducci) would join us. But on this particular Friday night we were all too tired to do anything. So we all decided to go our separate ways for the night. Then Jenko invited us over for a movie night, but I declined the invitation. I was too tired. It would become an invite I would regret not taking.

When I got home there was a note on my door.

We know who you are, Officer. You really need better looks on your door.

Had I read the note before I entered my apartment I would've turned around right then and there and gone on over to Jenko's place for that movie. But like I usually do with anything stuck to my door, I took it off the clip and went in without bothering to look at it.

As soon as I stepped over the threshold a chill ran down my spine.

"Get a hold of yerself, Thomas."

I dropped my keys onto the counter and headed to my room to change. I decided to veg-out on the couch and watch a little TV. More than likely, I'd fall asleep before I got too far into anything.

After changing my clothes, I decided to make myself something to eat. Another chill ran down my spine as I headed to the kitchen. Something wasn't right.

It was too quiet in that apartment for me, so I turned on my stereo.

Johnny Cash.

I find it amusing how some people seethe hatred for country music but they like Johnny Cash. I like Johnny Cash.

I sang along with him as I searched the fridge. Judy had bought us all dinner around six-thirty, but Chinese food doesn't stay with you for very long. So I went to my "go-to" food: SpaghettiO's. With sliced franks. Hey, I was out of mac and cheese.

After eating, I flopped down on the couch, turned off the stereo and turned on the tube. And then fell asleep.

I don't know how or even when he got into my apartment. I never heard a thing.

"Wakey-wakey, Tommy-boy."

My eyes were unfocused when I first opened them. I wasn't entirely sure if someone was really there and if what I heard wasn't just in my head. When my vision cleared, I started to panic. Nick Evans was standing over me. It was no dream this time.

I tried to sit up, but he quickly shoved me back down; covering my mouth before the shock of seeing him wore off and I could regain my voice. My eyes were wide in terror as I stared into his.

"Now, Tommy," he said in a gentle tone that made the bile rise up into my throat, "let's not make this difficult. Get up slowly and quietly. I'm going to remove my hand from yer mouth. You make any kind of sound, you will regret it."

He didn't have to worry about any sounds coming from me. I was too terrified to make even the slightest of whimpers. He pulled me up off the couch by my shirt and pushed me towards my bedroom. Shoving me onto my bed, he told me to take off my clothes. I stared at him, unable to move.

"Take them off," he hissed.

Trembling from head to toe, I slowly removed my clothes.

"No headboard, huh?" he said as if he were shopping for a new bed. "No worries. You have a bed frame."

My heart was pounding. I knew what he was planning. The same thing he did to me in that dorm room. Holding my tears back while he did what he came to do was almost impossible. When he was done, he left me lying there; no words. He simply untied me and walked out.

As soon as I heard the front door close I wrapped the bedspread around myself and rushed to the door…and locked the dead bolt. I rested my forehead against the door as the tears began to fall. After a few moments I turned around, wrapped the blanket around me tighter and headed towards the bathroom. I was a zombie. I'm not sure if I stepped on the blanket or if my knees buckled, but I somehow ended up on the floor on my hands and knees. My eyes were becoming blurry with tears. I slowly stood up, standing completely still for a moment, took a deep breath and continued to the bathroom.

I decided to take a bath, to just soak. I would scrub myself down every five minutes. Half an hour later I finally got out and went to bed. I cried myself to sleep.

I tried to make myself look and feel like everything was perfectly fine. It was an almost impossible task. I wasn't about to let Doug or anyone else ask me if I was okay. But I knew I couldn't hide it forever. I knew at some point I was going to break down, have a complete emotional and mental meltdown. That was not something I was looking forward to. As the summer dragged on, it became harder and harder to hold it together.

Nick visited me one more time before Harrison decided to tag along. It was the same thing from the school. A couple times a week they'd show up and do whatever the hell they wanted to me. They knew I was too scared to say anything.

And it wasn't just the assaults. They were also stalking me. I was becoming more paranoid whenever I went out. I refused to go out—aside from going to work—unless I was with someone, even though it was absurd. Nick already proved he could get into my apartment. I still hadn't seen Coleman and I began to wonder if he was still a part of their little team.

We had been back to our usual Friday night outings at the bar or some restaurant that had a bar, for the past five weeks; and even on those nights Nick and Harrison had the gall to show their ugly faces.

July thirty-first wound up being another exhausting Friday. Jenko offered up another movie night at his place and this time I didn't hesitate on taking him up on it. I think I may have appeared a little too eager to accept. But no one seemed to take notice.

I stayed long after Judy and Harry headed out. I was in no hurry to go home. I ended up falling asleep on Jenko's couch. Doug said he had offered to wake me up so that the two of us could get out of his hair, but Jenko told him to let me sleep. I spent the night on that old, not-meant-for-the-eighties sofa. I'm not certain if I ever told Jenko how grateful I was for that, but I'm sure he knew.

As the summer rolled on into August I was finally beginning to break down from the dead weight of my personal Hell. My soul was slowly being chiseled away. They knew I was a cop and they reveled in that knowledge. And when I stopped fighting back, they knew they had beaten me.

I still hadn't seen hide or hair of Coleman. Maybe he had decided that his own pedophiliac desires needed to be fixed and decided to stay out of the other two's sick desires, I thought to myself. Maybe he realized he needed help and got it. I would end up being half-right in my own thoughts. Nick and Harrison never mentioned him. Of course, with their victim's spirit finally crushed, why would they need him?

Just before the new school year began, I went to visit Brian one last time before his release. I couldn't stop myself from telling him what was happening to me.

After spilling my guts to him, he gave me that look that Doug gives me when he's about to mother-hen me to death. I was positive they were hanging out with each other behind my back.

"You haven't told Doug yet, have you?" he asked with that "Doug look" in his eyes.

I sighed heavily. "No, I haven't."

"Man, Tom…." His brow was furrowed, almost in a scolding manner.

"I know…. I just…."

"You think he won't believe you."

I sighed, running my hand through my hair. "Maybe…."

"Tom, he's yer best friend. Why wouldn't he believe you?"

"He would believe me. I know he would. It's just…."

"Yer too scared." He sighed. "Tom, he's not gonna think any less of you."

I licked my lips and swallowed the lump in my throat. "It's just hard, ya know. I've tried so many times to tell him, but every time I'd lose my nerve."

"You'll find it again," he said with a smile.

I returned the smile. "Thanks."

With a little less than three weeks before the start of the new school year, I began spending more nights over at Doug's place. But even then I couldn't escape the grip of the perverted version of the "Dynamic Duo." Coleman still had yet to show and I was well on my way to coming apart at the emotional seams.

On the First of September Coleman finally showed his face. He had tagged along with Nick and Harrison; and like with those two, I was expecting Coleman to do his thing. To my shock, he didn't lay a finger on me. But he didn't do anything to stop the other two, either. He wasn't necessarily bigger than Nick and Harrison, but he definitely wasn't smaller. Harrison and Coleman were both bigger than Doug and while Nick didn't have the muscular build like the other two, he definitely had the strength. Each of them could pop my head off if they wanted to. I was intimidated, and they knew it. Nick and Harrison reveled in it.

It was so much like that dream I'd had almost three months prior. This time I was given the unwelcomed and unwanted opportunity to experience what I skipped in that nightmare. It was Harrison and Nick all the way through.

I had completely given up. No fighting back. Nothing. I let them do what they wanted to do to me. I didn't care anymore.

The following day at work my zombie-like demeanor returned. For the sake of Doug and everyone else, I attributed it to a lack of adequate sleep. I fell asleep at my desk twice, which was sufficient proof for all of them.

Concerned for me, though that wasn't his reason, Doug dragged me to his place, grabbing wings and beer along the way. After eating, watching a movie, and playing video games, I fell asleep on the couch. Doug woke me up in the morning at six. I decided not to head home and change clothes. I'd do that at lunch.

What had been happening to me all summer was eating away at me; more and more as the day wore on. I was finally at my breaking point. By the end of the day, Doug would know everything. I couldn't hold it in any longer.

I was completely worn by the end of the day, but I didn't want to go home. I stood still and quiet at my locker. A million thoughts were running through my head.

Someone once told me, "Guys don't get raped." That's one hell of a lie to cross anyone's lips. And many people believe that lie. Men are the perps, not the victims. It was a strange thought to have while it was happening to me, but I wondered how many other guys were going through the same thing I was. It's different when you're a child. People want to lynch the person that sexually abused the little boy that couldn't defend himself. But if he's in high school…it's a whole other ballgame. Guy on guy rape is taboo. (I won't even get into female on male rape.) You're not supposed to talk about it. Because it doesn't happen. Never has. Even when it's mentioned in the Bible, it still isn't true. Just say that to the victim. Throw it back in his face, call him a liar. It hurts, but it hurts worse when no one believes you. Brian was right. I was afraid they wouldn't believe me. I was afraid Doug wouldn't believe me, even though he told me he would. For me, there was nothing worse than his disbelief of me.

"Tom?"

It didn't have to be loud to make me jump. I had been jumpy for the past three months.

"Doug you scared me." I didn't turn from my locker to face him. I didn't want to. What I really wanted to do was crawl inside my locker, close it, and stay there. Indefinitely.

"Sorry. You okay?"

He stood next to me.

"Yeah…. I'm fine." Liar. Why don't you tell him? He won't believe me. You don't know that. He's yer best friend. Just tell him. "I can't tell Doug."

"Tell me what?"

I really hate saying something out loud without realizing that I did. Especially if it's embarrassing. Or in this case, make people ask questions.

"Nothing…" I said, sticking my head into my locker. "Nothing at all."

He grimaced. I didn't have to look at him to know. I can feel his expressions. And the question was coming. I kept my face in my locker. Here it comes….

"Are you okay, Tom?" And there it is.

Of course, I wasn't okay. But I wasn't going to tell him that. "I'm fine." Liar. "Really." Total liar.

He furrowed his brow at me, giving me that 'concerned' look that almost made me spill my guts to him. (No, I didn't look at him. Like I said, I can feel his expressions.) "Yer sure yer okay?"

"Doug, I'm fine." Big fat liar. And of course, my face was still buried in my locker. For good reason. My eyes were beginning to betray me. I couldn't look at him. Fortunately, for the moment at least, he was standing on the other side of my locker door, effectively being blocked from seeing my face at all.

I knew he was raising an eyebrow at me. "Are you tryin' ta put yer whole body in yer locker?"

"Yes," I squeaked. And then sniffled.

The longer he stood there, the antsier (is that a word?) I got. I repeated over and over in my head that it was 'useless to tell him, he wouldn't believe me,' to the point where I was once again arguing with myself. Tell him. No. Tell him. He won't believe me. Really, Thomas. Really.

My arguments with myself are quite childish. That particular argument went on until I heard footsteps coming up the stairs. I was slightly relieved. Doug's stare was boring holes into my locker door and into me.

"Hey, guys."

Judy. Doug turned around to acknowledge her. No, I did not see him do so. I heard him turn around and then heard him say, "Hey, Jude."

I stuck my hand out and waved at her. I didn't dare speak. I was already being betrayed by my eyes; I was not going to let my voice follow suit.

"We're all heading out," she said. "You guys comin'?"

There was silence for a moment. Again, I was not about to speak. My mind turned from arguing with me to trying to send Doug telepathic messages. Come on, Doug. Say something.

"We have a few minor things to do before we head out."

Thank you.

"Alright. See ya guys tomorrow."

"See ya." I heard a thump against the lockers. Doug was back to boring holes into my locker door. "Are you planning on closing that door any time soon?"

There was a lump in my throat that was refusing to go down. I choked out a 'no.' Everything went downhill from there. I couldn't control my tears any longer. Shutting my eyes as tight as I could, I tried to push myself further into my locker. Then I felt Doug's hand on my shoulder.

"Tommy?"

I finally swallowed the lump. "Yeah…?"

"What's goin' on?" His voice had become softer.

I still couldn't look at him, wouldn't look at him. And for the third time in the last twenty minutes, I began arguing with myself. After a few fleeting moments of internal bickering, I felt Doug's hand touch my neck.

"Tommy…." He knew if I was going to look at him he would have to make me look at him. "Look at me."

My reply was choked out. "I can't."

I'm positive that at that point he knew I was crying.

He gently pulled me away from my locker and I closed it. But I still wouldn't look at him. I rested my head against the locker and let my tears fall. I couldn't stop them, anyway.

He leaned against the lockers and looked at me. "Yer not okay, are you?"

Had it happened only once, or even twice, I would've been okay. Well, as okay as someone can be after they've been raped. But it had been going on for months. I turned and faced him, sobbing. "No, I'm not."

"Come here." He pulled me into a hug.

"Doug, I…." I was crying so hard I couldn't speak.

My knees suddenly buckled and I started to fall to the ground. Doug never let go of me. He eased me down, sitting down on the floor himself and held me.

It was a good twenty minutes before I could speak. And it all came spilling out. From the first assault by Harrison in the showers at the school, both of Nick's assaults on me and that final day to the stalking and assaults throughout the summer. I waited for him to ask me why I didn't tell him; why I had kept it to myself. But he never asked.

"I stopped fighting back, Doug. I let them do it," I sobbed. "I felt like a kid, not an adult."

"Yer safe now."

I buried my face between his arm and side, holding on to his arm for dear life.

"In that dream," he said, "was it them?"

I nodded into his arm.

He said nothing further for what wound up being nearly forty-five minutes. That was when Jenko made his way upstairs.

"Hey, what's goin' on up here?" He paused. "Sport?"

I didn't budge from my spot in Doug's arms nor did I say a word. Doug spoke for me. What exactly was exchanged between the two of them, I don't know. I fell asleep soon after Doug began speaking.

My sense of time had been off all day. So I had no idea what time it was when Doug woke me or how long I had been asleep. It could've been an hour; it could've been mere minutes. I opened my eyes to see Jenko still there.

"Hey, sport." He rubbed my head as I sat up. "You feelin' okay?"

"Yeah…" I replied groggily.

"I don't want you goin' back to yer place. I don't you to be by yerself."

"I'm fine."

"He's stayin' at my place," Doug interjected.

I was too exhausted—and scared—to protest.

Jenko pulled me to my feet. "Come on, Tom." He patted my face. "Let's get you outta here."

He insisted that I get checked out at the hospital in the morning. Of course, I tried to get out of it by saying that I had to work tomorrow. He immediately countered me with "you and Doug have my permission to come in late."

I groaned as we left the chapel.

Jenko followed us back to Doug's place, making sure I'd be okay for the night. I assured him I was and he left with a "See you two tomorrow. And Penhall, make sure he gets checked out at the hospital in the morning."

Have I mentioned yet that I hate hospitals? Rarely does anything good from going to one. Doctors tend to "discover" something horribly wrong with you. It is my belief that they get paid extra to find something not quite right about you. That usually has something to do with the head. Yours and theirs. Being prodded by anyone, doctor or not, in a place you did not want to be prodded in, in the first place is absolutely insane. The doctor's assessment: physically I was okay; no damage. However, he was concerned for both my mental and emotional state. In return, I told him that I was concerned for his mental state. Both Douglas and the doctor decided that I was okay and could leave.

Apparently, it is uncouth to voice your concerns about your doctor's mental health.

After making a pit stop at my place so I could take a shower and put on fresh clothes, we headed to work. Judy and Harry were clueless to the previous night's events and it was going to stay that way; at least for awhile. Or so I thought.

I decided I was okay to go home that night. Doug wasn't so sure. Big surprise. I would soon be extremely glad over his uncertainty.

"Look," he said as I put on my sneakers, "I really think you should stay with me until we get these guys."

I looked up at him wearily. "Doug, I'll be fine."

"I'm just—"

"Concerned. I know. And I appreciate it. But I'll be fine."

Doug wasn't buying it. And as much as I insisted that I would be fine, I knew he would show up at my place sometime that evening to check up on me in person.

That "check-up" would save my life.

I have a tendency towards stubbornness. Or so my mom always said. I always hated it when she was right. Which was most of the time. Even now, I often prove her right. Doug wanted me to come back over to his place that night. With those three on the loose, he didn't want to chance them coming after me when he had the ability to prevent it.

I should've listened to him. I was walking into an ambush.

It was quiet when I walked into my apartment. Most of the complex was quiet, which was a little unusual; but not anything that would send up red flags. I went through the usual nightly motions: flick on the kitchen light, toss my keys onto the counter, drag my feet to my bedroom, put my gun in its special place, take my shoes off; grab my pajamas and head to the bathroom for a shower. It wasn't until after I had taken my shower and dressed that that chill ran down my spine.

Everything happened so fast.

Either they were that good or I was seriously slipping. I had no clue that they had been there the entire time. There hadn't been a single sign that had tipped me off that they were there, waiting.

They were just there. Suddenly. Out of nowhere. Right in front of me. I quickly found myself cowering before them, like a beaten dog cowering before its master. My fear overrode any will I had to fight back.

Nick grabbed me and threw me onto the floor of my bedroom. As I pushed myself up onto my hands and knees I felt something hard connect with my back, making me collapse back to the floor. I looked up at them to see Harrison holding a black baton, the kind you see prison guards carry. Raping me wasn't going to be enough for them this time.

After Nick and Harrison satisfied their desire of sexual domination over me, they each took a turn beating me with the baton. There was more, but most of it is no more than a hazy recollection. I had been knocked in the head a couple times and wasn't sure if what felt like biting was real or not. I could taste blood in my mouth and my cheeks were wet with tears. Lying on the floor again, I felt the sting of the baton on my thighs and arms. I was curled up in the fetal position, whimpering—and praying—when I heard Coleman tell them to "stop, yer gonna kill 'im."

And that was it. They left. As soon as I heard the front door open and then close, I slowly and gingerly pulled myself to my bed. I had never been in so much pain. There wasn't a part of me that didn't hurt. I managed to pull myself up onto the bed. As I tried to reach for the phone on my nightstand, I glanced down at my body. I was covered in bruises and bite marks. Bite marks in one place that made me want to pass out; which I was about to do when I heard the front door open. My first thought was 'Nick and Harrison have come back to kill me.' I curled back up into the fetal position, waiting for it to end.

But then I heard Doug's voice…calling for me.

I don't remember anything he said to me or what he said to whoever over the phone. All I remember is Doug gently wrapping me up in the quilt on my bed and a very faint "Yer gonna be okay." And then I passed out.

When I woke I was in the hospital and Doug was sitting—and sleeping—in the chair next to my bed. I was still in pain, but much of it had been relieved by the morphine. A groan escaped my throat as I tried to move.

Doug woke. "Hey, pal." His voice was soft and quiet.

"Hey," I replied weakly.

"How ya feelin'?"

"Like I got hit by a semi."

"That Coleman guy turned himself in. Ratted out the other two. Judy and Harry went after them."

I furrowed my brow. "Coleman turned himself in?"

"Yeah…. Did he ever do anything to you?"

"Only that last day at the school. Last night he told the other two ta stop."

"That was three nights ago, Tommy."

I stared at him in disbelief. "Three?"

"You were in pretty bad shape, Bud." He leaned into the bed, folding his arms onto the bars. "Don't know how many times they clocked you in the noggin, but they really did a number on you. You had brain swelling so the docs put you into a drug-induced coma fer a couple days."

While Doug was talking, I realized I was on oxygen. I was still a little out of it.

"The doc wants to keep you one more night fer observation."

"Oh."

"When they release you I want you ta stay at my place. At least fer a little while."

"That's fine," I said quietly. "I don't wanna go back there, anyway."

I was about to ask where Jenko was when he walked in.

"Hey, sport. How ya feelin'?" He stood by my bed, opposite Doug.

"I've been better," I replied, my voice sounding a little scratchy.

"You'll be outta here soon."

Doug rubbed my shoulder. "Yer gonna be okay now. It's over."

That's what all of us believed. But this was just the beginning of a whole new journey.