To Protect and ObeyThe Sentinel and all its characters belong to Pet Fly productions. In no way am I making any money from this. It is for entertainment value only. If you sue all you'll get is a two year lease on my F-150, and a snow white parakeet who enjoys waking you up at 6:00 am, and who will probably be only able to say, "Shut up, Toby!", as well as every cuss word in the book(and some not in the book). WARNING!!!Rape story. Lots of Jim owies. In fact I wasnt very nice to him in this one. I would also rate this R because of violence and sexual content. So if your under eighteen, dont read it. This story is unbetaed, so any errors are mine. To Protect and Obey Stormwolf Ellison struck his assailant's knee with his booted foot snapping the knee back in an ackward angle. The assailant cried out in pain, and Ellison turned his attention to the other four attackers. He blocked a punch and delivered an upper cut to the large man in the lead breaking the man's jaw. Ellison recieved a kick in the ribs from the small man. Ellison had his pain dial turned all the way down so only barely felt the pain of two broken ribs. The Asian, who was obviously into Martial Arts, used a sweeping kick to knock Ellison to the ground. Once on the ground, Jim lost his tactical advantage. The remaining attackers proceeded to kick Ellison's body. Jim tried his best to block some of the blows, but a direct blow to his head from a steel toed boot knocked the Sentinel into unconsciousness. He awoke quickly and found himself lying belly down over a table while behind him one of his attackers was enjoying himself as he pumped furiously. Ellison felt bile rising in his throat as he could feel his rapist inside him. The man was laughing as he continued, making rude comments to his buddies as he moved in and out. When he released, he laughed and slapped Ellison on his bare back and withdrew. Ellison's hands were tied behind his back and a chain was strung across his neck and back securing him to the table. The Sentinel closed his eyes and imagined the dials as his Guide, Blair Sandburg, had taught him moving all of his senses to zero. Now he was basically unconscious at least sensewise as the other attackers took their turns. The two injured men used knives to carve up the Sentinel's back as they raped him. When it was over he was drug over to a corner and held their with a chain padlocked around his neck and the other end padlocked to a wooden post. Ellison still had his dials down and found himself lost in sensory unawareness. With nothing to concentrate on he couldn't find the dials to turn his senses back on. Periodically, he was removed from the corner to be tortured and raped some more. At times the dials would spin uncontrollably and he would feel, see, hear, smell, and taste things that would cause him to fight back or to vomit. The men used chains and belts to beat him. They would rape him violently leaving him bleeding and broken. At times when his pain dial was turned all the way up he would scream in pain even if only barely touched. The tortures and rapes continued for two weeks. During that time he was given little food and water, and hardly any rest at all. Finally he broke. They made the mistake of beliving that the Sentinel was unconscious and when one of them attempted to rape him, the Sentinel roared to life and broke the man's neck with a quick twist and an audible snap. The others were in shock as Ellison moved among them like a jaguar snarling and killing his captors. When all of them were dead the Sentinel fell to his knees breathing heavily. His senses were back under his control, but Jim Ellison was gone. In his place was a beast ruled by instinct, tempered by vestiges of human training. The Sentinel flared his nostrils taking in the scent of his dead enemies' blood. He threw back his head and roared in pain, anguish, and triumph then collapsed into blissfull unconsciousness. When the Sentinel awoke he stood up quickly and searched with his senses for danger. Finding only the dead the Sentinel began to search for a way out of the cage of wood which happened to be a cabin. He leaped threw a window and rolled on the moss covered ground to cushion the fall. He came up in a kneeling position senses on alert. The Sentinel wore the tattered and bloody remains of his jeans and his hiking boots. Sensing no danger the Sentinel stood up and headed deeper into the forest at a brisk jog senses opened wide except for the pain dial which was turned nearly to zero. The scent of moss, trees, ozone, and birds filled his nostrils. Clean smells that helped wipe away unwanted memories and pain. **** Blair Sandburg sat in the rented Jeep Cherokee uneasily. Beside him in the driver's seat, Captain Simon Banks was conversing with the sherriff on his cell phone. It had been six weeks since Ellison disapeared. No ransom demands or videotapes showed up at the precinct, so it was unsure as to what had happened to Detective Ellison. Blair's unlimited imagination supplied him daily with ideas, each one more horrible than the one before. His Blessed Protector was gone and no answers were forthcoming from this world or the spirit world in which Blair Sandburg, Shaman of the Great City was becoming more and more familiar with. Oh God, he thought, Jim were are you? Simon hung up the phone startling Blair out of his own deep and depressing thoughts. "The Sheriff's department came across a cabin deep in the National Forest some six miles from the Canadian border. They found some bodies in the cabin." Blair's blue eyes filled with fear. "Hold on Sandburg, none of the bodies were identified as Jim, but they were identified as members of a survivalists group known as Free Aryans Against Tyranny. Jim killed one of their local leaders about four years ago during a bank robbery." "You think they were the ones who had Jim?" "Its possible, the coroner said that the men died from a broken neck." It could be Jim,Sandburg thought. "Jim, you think Jim killed those men." It wasn't a question. "Yeah, it just might be." The road was rough, but luckily the jeep was a 4X4, and managed the mud, ruts and the constant uphill battle with the road. The cabin was small,and utilitarian with one chimney. Sheriff vehicles, all utilities, surrounded the old cabin with lights still flashing. There was no ambulance or coroner's van. They had passed those vehicles which had been waiting near the highway that the dirt road started from. The sheriff stood waiting for Banks near his own Jeep Wrangler. "Stay in the jeep, Sandburg. And I mean it." Banks walked over to the Sherrif, a man named Davidson. He was a stocky, heavyset man, muscular, not fat, with thinning reddish blonde hair and hazel brown eyes. "According to the coroner's report, those bodies have been dead for near four weeks. It was just pure coincidence that one of my deputies came and checked this cabin out. It's pretty gruesome, and it looks as if some animals may have scavenged in there." The Sherriff told Banks in a unemotional tone as if he had just reported the weather. "How did you identify the bodies?" Banks asked trying to stay detached, but inwardly worried. "Personal items in the cabin. From the evidence it seems they had a prisoner, and they weren't treating him/her too good." Sandburg had stepped out of the jeep catching the conversation. "Sandburg, stay in the jeep. You really don't want to see any of this." Banks followed the Sheriff into the cabin. The deputies were zipping the bodies into body bags. One of them walked over and handed a clear plastic evidence bag to the Sheriff. Inside was a belt covered in dried blood. "This belt was one of three we found. There's also a knife, and some chains all with dried blood on them. Whoever they held here they beat him/her up pretty good. and there's no telling what else." The Sheriff explained, "You think it might be your missing officer?" "It's possible. This group would have a grudge against him. If it was him, it means they had him for two weeks, and he has been free for four." "Would he be able to survive, alone, in the wilderness?" "He's an ex-Army Ranger." The Sheriff nodded, "Yeah he can survive. We'll contact Search and Rescue. If he's alive and in this forest they'll find him." "I'll be sticking around to help anywhere I can." "its alright with me." The Sheriff said as they walked out of the cabin. Banks looked over at Sandburg who was still standing against the jeep staring off into the surrounding forest as if in his own zone. What am I going to tell him, Banks thought as he thanked the Sheriff and headed over to the anthropologists. Blair peered out into the forest his thoughts on his absent partner as he waited for Banks to return. He wondered what secrets the forest held, knowing that it was at least possible one of those secrets was the location of his Sentinel. Suddenly, from behind a large redwood a black jaguar padded into Blair's line of sight. The black cat looked at Sandburg with its golden yellow eyes, then turned and leaped away. Sandburg watched the flight of the jaguar knowing in that direction was his friend and partner. Now he just had to convince Simon Banks, Mr."I don't want to know". It wasn't hard to convince Simon, however, that the young anthropologists knew where Jim was. Already Banks had come to expect this kind of thing from his best team. Perhaps his own worry for Jim was causing him to listen to Sandburg more and more. So they made plans to began their own search. A friend of Blair's let him borrow a horse trailer, and three of his mountain horses. They left the jeep and trailer near the cabin, and saddled the horses. The third horse was used as a pack horse and would carry Ellison out of the mountains when they found him. Sandburg on a palimono gelding led the way following the black jaguar that would appear for a few seconds at intermittent periods. Behind him in a straight line, Banks rode a roan mare with a white blaze leading the black paint gelding that carried their supplies. **** During the weeks after his escape, the Sentinel had been busy. His senses had led him far away from his prison and further up the mountain. Some twelve miles from the prison he found another one. His senses told him their was no humans around so his own curiousity and need forced him to search the cabin for things his mind was only partly aware of needing. Inside the rustic cabin was some old blankets. Using a knife he had taken from his captors and the spurts of strange knowledge coming from his head he fashioned himself a parka which he placed over his head fitting his strong arms through the holes he had made for that purpose. Decidingly warmer, he began to search the cabin even more using his enhanced sight to see in the darkened room. Part of him recognized the compact bow that hung on the wall, and that part made him take the weapon down and test the metal bowstring. The weight was perhaps fifty pounds, and the Sentinel easily drew it back as far as it would go. Satisfied he eased the string back into its natural position and continued to look around. The corpse lying in the only bed held no interest for the Sentinel. His senses had told him that the man had died several months ago of old age. Continueing his search, the Sentinel discovered the quiver filled with arrows lying beneath the bed. Ignoring the corpse, he reached under and pulled the leather cased quiver out and examined each arrow with a critical eye. He tossed away those arrows he found flawed, leaving him only fifteen arrows out of thirty-six. The Sentinel placed the quiver strap over his head leaving the arrows sticking out over his left shoulder. Flaring his nostrils he used his sense of smell to try and locate what his stomach had been reminding him of. However, his nose could only locate rotted food left in the cabinets, and warm beer left in a broken fridge. In his state he did not recognize the drink, so left it untouched. As he continued to search he came up with some strong fishing line which the trained part of his mind told him to pick up, as well as some hooks, and a sewing kit. satisfied by his findings, the Sentinel left the cabin and its dead host behind and continued further into the mountains his senses alert for prey. The arrow found its mark and the two year old buck fell to the ground after a dramatic leap. The Sentinel ran toward its prey, wary of scavengers. Using the knife he cut the deer from anus to neck, and carefully removed the entrails, liver, and bladder trying not to spill any of their contents onto the precious meat. When that was done the scent of warm blood and meat overrode his mental cautions and the Sentinel cut out pieces of raw meat and ate them. The mettalic taste of blood made his stomach rumble loudly, his hunger increasing with each bite. Primal thoughts scurried through his mind as he ate the warm venison still alert for the scavengers that were attracted to the scent of fresh kills. Licking blood from his lips, the Sentinel stepped back from his kill with a full stomach and left the rest of the carcass for the gathering scavengers which included a scrawny she-wolf who had dared to try and steal his kill before he could eat his fill. The bloody wound on her shoulder had been made from the Sentinel's knife when she had darted in. Now that the Sentinel no longer guarded the kill the she-wolf fought her way in through the horde of scavengers to steal a hind leg that still had meat clinging to bone. The Sentinel walked away heading for the sound and smell of running water. The clear, crystal mountain water washed away the deer blood from his hands and face, then suddenly tears were being washed away as the Sentinel wrapped his arms around his knees hugging them to his chest as he cried. The Sentinel felt an overwhelming sadness, and loneliness deep within himself. Pain he could barely recognize through the haze of his own instincts made him curl up at the streamside and cry for several hours unaware of the world around him and its dangers. The sun was setting behind the magestic cliffs when the Sentinel awoke into the world. He stood up and drank from the stream he had been lying beside, then flared his nostrils gathering in the scents around him. The setting sun reminded him that he needed to find some kind of shelter, so in his own Sentinel way he began a search. After several minutes his enhanced sight came up with a den dug beneathe a large redwood and some boulders. The den was apparently an old wolf den from the ancient smells emanating from within. However, according to the scents the den had been abandoned for awhile. The Sentinel found that the den could hold him and protect him from the cold of the mountain nights. Curled up in a tight ball, the Sentinel slept lightly still aware of forest around him. Of and on for four weeks, the Sentinel survived. Instinct driven, he hunted and foraged for his food, eating his meat raw since the makings of a fire never crossed his mind. He hunted in the early evening hours after the first day, and slept the mornings away. During the afternoon hours, he would explore his territory ready to take on any intruders. He shared the territory with a small wolf pack that consisted of five members. A black and silver Alpha male, his Alpha female, a ruddy she-wolf, two subordinant grey males, and a black subordinant she-wolf made up the small pack that took his intrusion into their territory in stride, and even accepted his presence. Sometimes as he would lay curled up in his den, hot tears would splash down his face as the memory of pain returned. He would shiver and cry in his den. Several times he would hear the cry of the wolf pack as they howled their song. The howling would peirce deep within his heart bringing forth loneliness and pain, and the Sentinel would howl along with the wolf pack that did not mind when he did. * * * * Blair lay in his warm sleeping bag and listened to the distant howls of
wolves. His thoughts leaped from subject to subject as he tried to contain
his fear. How far yet do we have to go,he wondered. So far the jaguar
spirit guide had led them further up the mountain. They had found a cabin
with an old rotted corpse lying peacefully in its bed. The cabin had been
ransacked by wild animals, but Blair knew Jim had been inside the cabin
otherwise the jaguar would not have led them to it. When night had fallen it
had been Simon who reminded Blair that Morning found them back on the trail eating breakfast bars in the saddle as Blair followed the spirit guide. The jaguar continued to be seen only by Sandburg, and his appearance was even less than before. Blair believed that perhaps they were getting closer to Jim, and the jaguar's presence was now to keep Sandburg on the right trail. The jaguar appeared on a large boulder, the afternoon sun just behind him. He roared at Sandburg who stopped and looked up at the black cat squinting against the sun's rays. The jaguar was gone. In its place was a man's outline against the sun. Sandburg knew in an instant who it was. "Jim!" He cried out waving to the man estatically. Simon looked up were Sandburg was waving to and also saw the man's sillouette. The Sentinel looked down at the two intruders to his territory, and a myriad of scents reached his notrils. Every sense he had screamed at his instincts, telling them that the man below him was his Guide. The name did not register with him, but the scent, sight and sound did. Every instinct told him to trust the man who was waving and shouting at him. Blair called up to the Sentinel, "Hey, Jim! Come down here, man. It's time to go home." The Sentinel just barely understood the words, but his Guide had given an order. His instincts told him to protect the Guide, and to obey the Guide. The Sentinel leaped down off the boulder onto another one below it. He continued down in a leaping fashion until he reached the top of the slope that at its base was his Guide. Blair's mouth opened in shock as he watched Jim leap down toward them as graceful as the jaguar that had led them there. He stared at his friend who calmly walked over to the gelding's head and stood waiting. "Jim, man. Why aren't you saying anything?" Blair asked. "Sandburg, "Simon said quietly, "Look at him." Blair turned his head from Simon back to Jim and looked at the Sentinel. Jim's blue eyes usually so full of life looked dead. There was no spark of intelligence within those blue depths, and Sandburg could feel his throat constricting tightly as his mouth went suddenly dry. Sandburg felt a creepiness in his stomach as he thought about what could have happened to his friend to drive him to this point. "Uh, Simon, I don't know what to do." Blair confessed. "Well if you don't know, then I hope you don't think I have the answers. Though I guess we could get him on the horse and try and get as far as we can before dark." Simon suggested. "I guess so. But I do know that the one thing we can't do is let him fall into the hands of doctors, and psychiatrists. He does not need to be in some psycho ward doped into a coma!" "Calm down Sandburg. I will make damn sure that doesn't happen. However, he will need to see a doctor for his injuries. There is no telling what those bastards did to him. Look at the dried blood on his clothes." Sandburg did, and then felt his stomach roll. Man, I do not need to get sick,he thought. Decided, he swung his right leg over the saddle and slid down the leather to the ground. Grounding the reins, he reached out tentatively to touch Ellison's arm while talking in a soothing tone. The Sentinel did not flinch when Sandburg gripped his arm lightly guiding him with hand and voice to the paint gelding. Simon slid off grounding his reins and went over to unload some of the packs to evenly distribute them between the three horses. Once that was done, Sandburg carefully coaxed Jim into the saddle. Jim calmly did as he was told instinctively trusting his Guide. Once they had Ellison secure, Blair and Simon remounted and turned their horses back the way they came. This time Simon took the lead knowing the way down the mountain still leading Ellison's mount with Sandburg taking up the rear. Jim sat his horse easily his muscles constantly shifting to maintain his balance as he sent out his senses in search of any possible danger to his Guide. Blair rode behind his eyes fixed on Jim's back thinking of possible ways to try and bring the real Jim Ellison back, and not this shadow of a man who acted more like a well trained dog than a Sentinel. Blair couldn't figure out for the life of him what was truly wrong. He knew that if he didn't know the cause, then the solution was even harder to reach. Thoughts swirled in his head as they rode. Twice Jim tried to get off his horse because it was starting to hurt him. Blair had to practically order him back in the saddle. Since Jim never whimpered in pain or cried out, they were unaware of his growing discomfort. Finally not even the stoic Sentinel could keep his pain inside. After two hours of riding, Blair heard Jim begin to whimper in pain as tears fell down his face. "Oh, man. Simon stop. Jim's hurting." Blair said as he pulled back on the reins to stop his horse. Simon did the same and Blair slid off of his horse. He practically ran over to the paint and helped Jim out of the saddle. Jim could barely stand and Blair helped lay him on the ground. "Where is he hurting?" Simon asked knowing it probably wasn't because he ws saddlesore. He knew something else was wrong and he was afraid he knew what it was. "I don't know. Whatever it is its hurting him bad. Maybe we'd better set up camp." Blair answered as he held his Sentinel tightly against his chest. Jim was still crying from pain, both physical and mental and he showed no signs of stopping soon. Simon nodded in agreement and began to set up camp taking down the packs from the horses. He set up the tent first placing three sleeping bags in it. Simon told Blair to take Jim inside the tent and to stay in there with him. He would handle the camp setting himself. Blair coaxed Jim into the tent and got him in a sleeping bag. He continued to hold Jim rocking him and murmuring in a soothing tone as Jim continued his outburst. Simon set up camp quickly. He unsaddled and hobbled the horses then stood outside the tent. He knew what needed doing, but he wasn't sure he was up to it. Finally, he took a deep breath and crawled into the tent. He saw Sandburg with Jim in his arms. Ellison looked to be asleep, but Blair was wide awake. "Blair, we need to find out what's wrong with him. Physically at least. If he can't ride or walk out of here we'll need to know." Simon said softly. Blair nodded and slipped his arms out from around the Sentinel who was now awake and watching them both. Simon knew that Jim was not about to let the Captain touch him, so it was up to Blair. Using his voice to soothe him, Blair began to remove Jim's suedo shirt revealing his half healed bruises, and scars that literally covered his back and chest. Blair grit his teeth trying not to cry as he removed the rest of Jim's blood stained clothes. While Blair kept Jim calmed, Simon made a cursory check over Jim's body noting the welts, cuts and bruises. Simon knew after a look what had been hurting Jim as they rode. His genitals were bruised and slightly swollen, just barely healing. When Simon discovered what he knew to be the truth he thought he was going to vomit. But Simon swallowed the bile rising in his throat, and helped Blair cover up Jim with the sleeping bag. Blair looked at Simon afraid of what the verdict was. "He was raped."Simon said trying to speak through a throat that felt as if it was closing up. Blair lost it. He ran out of the tent and threw up in the nearest bushes. Jim had been instantly up at the sound of his Guide in distress. Simon tried to hold him down to no avail. At Simon's shout Blair ran in to found Jim snarling and growling at Simon while physically fighting him to get up. Blair quickly used his voice and touch to calm the raging Sentinel. The effects were immediate as soon as Sandburg touched him and spoke to him. Jim relaxed and laid back down. Blair pulled the bag up to Jim's shoulders then curled up in his own sleeping bag next to his wounded Sentinel laying one arm over Jim's shoulders. "Now, I understand." Blair said. "Understand what?" Simon asked as he settled down in his own sleeping bag still shook up by the snarling beast that had once been his friend. "Why he's like this. He escaped what was happening. Fled into his own mind, and his Sentinel instincts took over. Which is why he's listening to me, I suppose." "How are you going to bring him back?" "There's only one way I can figure. He fled because he was scared and hurting. I need to make him feel safe so he can come back. I guess the best place would be the loft. Its familiar surroundings to all his senses. It will take awhile, and I don't know if it will work. But I'm willing to keep trying no matter what it takes or how long it takes." And with that firm declaration, the conversation died down and the the Guide and the Captain joined the Sentinel in dreamless sleep. Early morning light peeked through the canopy of ominious trees as the rising sun bared itself behind the majestic mountains. Blair Sandburg yawned and stretched as he rubbed his tired eyes ridding them of the sleepy feeling. Beside him, Jim was instantly awake watching his Guide, while his senses explored the area taking note of the other man who was already awake and packing. Morning chores were done in silence. Blair used the nearby stream to clean his Sentinel's body of blood, dirt and other unamebable chemicals that was evidence of what tortures his Sentinel had endured. Fresh clothes washed at the loft in Ivory Snow were brought out of a bag and Blair dressed his Sentinel. Jim allowed Blair's familiarity, never flinching from the Guide's touch, nor attempting to stop Blair's manhandling of him. Each time Jim looked at Blair with his lost blue eyes, Blair would feel a tightening sickness deep in the pit of his belly and it was all he could do to not vomit from the mental pictures that randomly popped into his rather creative mind. Jim was a proud man, a man who believed he could fight the evils that other men did, and eventually come out unscathed. An ex-Ranger working for covert ops, Jim had seen what tortures could be wrought upon a man, and may have even participated in such tortures to glean badly needed information to protect the citizens of his country. Now it was Jim who had endured such tortures, and unscathed he was not. Fleeing within his own mind had been his only avenue of escape, and Blair hoped that his Sentinel was not completely lost to him. Since Jim could not ride, he trotted alongside Blair's horse easily keeping pace with the long-legged beasts. At first, Blair had worried about Jim's stamina, but the Sentinel never even flagged or even seem to falter in his step. Running seem to help him. It was as if nature herself lent the Sentinel her strength with each stride. They made ten miles before the last rays of the sun began to dissapear. They made camp, and Blair tended to his Sentinel, using the first aid kit to clean up the wounds on his friend's body. Their meal was eaten in silence. The only voice was Blair's when he used what Jim called his "guide voice" to coax the Sentinel into his sleeping bag and to keep him calm when agitation would set in. Jim seemed nervous, and Blair wondered if the Sentinel was picking up something just at the edge of his range. He voiced his fears to Simon, who took out his 9mm automatic, and his back-up 38. just in case. Spotlights illuminated their tent, and maniacal laughter reached their ears. Simon scrambled from his sleeping bag gun in hand only to be knocked down by a boot to his ribs. A low growl indicated that Jim was awake, as hands reached down to take the gun from Simon's grasp. The tent had been ripped open to reveal its three inhabitants. Simon looked around and saw several men with rifles and spotlights surrounding their encampment. Worse, he saw one of men's camoflauge outfits with its badge of a white bolt of lightning with the letters F.A.A.T., which was, he knew, pronounced fate. Damn! What they hell are they still doing in these woods.Simon thought. He had believed that after the deaths of their comrades and the location of their cabin becoming known, that the other members of the Free Aryans Against Tyranny would have fled the state. "Well, well, boys look what we have here," One of them said. Simon tried to figure out who was talking, but the lights from the spotters made it so he could only see silouettes. However, Simon could tell that false dawn was approaching fast, and soon they would be able to see their captors. "Well if it isn't our lost dog, Ellison." The man continued. The others laughed at that. Simon could hear Jim growling and he turned his head to see that Sandburg was holding Jim back with only a hand on his shoulder. "And he has company. A nigger, and some long haired hippie. Looks like Ellison's been holding out on us. He's got his own little dog to fuck." The others laughed, and urged their leader on with lewd comments. "What's your name, pretty boy." The man demanded. "Sandburg, " was all that Blair said. It was enough. "So our little fuck toy's lover is a Jew. Fucking Jews, " The man said and spit. Behind the men, the sun was beginning its ascent, and the light illuminated their captors. Most of them were blonde haired, or light brown haired, with blue, gree, or even light hazel eyes. They were all light skinned, of course and wearing camaflouge gear. Simon had only seen the patch on the man who had taken his gun, but now he saw the patches on all ten of the men who surrounded them. "Jack, let's just take Ellison, and go before Search and Rescue get here." The man who was holding on to the horses said. "Shut the fuck up, Eric, I'm in charge here. Search and Rescue aien't nowhere near this area. Fucking guys couldn't find their ass with both hands and a fucking map. Now, seeing as we have ourselves a fucking nigger, and a fucking Jew, I say we should have ourselves a hanging. What do you think, Hank." Jack turned to look at the big blonde burly man standing beside him cradling an M-16-A2. "Sounds good to me, Jack." Hank said with a leer. "And then, when we're done, we can have our fun with Ellison," Jack finished. He had one of the guys bring some rope from their packs, which they had left hidden not far from the area. When they came to get Blair, the Guide was no longer able to control Jim. Ellison leaped snarling at the men who tried to take Sandburg. Five men eventually brought the Sentinel down. It was Hank who delivered the blow to the sentinel's head that knocked him nearly unconscious. Jack used an old belt, cutting it down and putting a new hole in it with his buck knife, as a collar around Ellison's throat. He tied the nearly senseless Sentinel's hands behind his back, then used a rope tied to the collar, and the other end to a tree as if Ellison were a dog. They then hauled Simon and Blair up, tying thier hands behind their backs, and dragged them over to the waiting horses. Sandburg struggled and recieved a clout to his head. At that, the Sentinel was up and snarling struggling at the end of his leash. The men laughed and threw stones at the Sentinel, while all the while they drank beer and whiskey. None of them were drunk, yet. Blair was scared to death. He definitly didn't want to be dangling at the end of a rope while slowly strangling to death. However, he was more worried about Jim. Hank kicked Jim in the ribs, dropping the Sentinel to the ground with a heavy grunt. Simon struggled too, but a few blows took the fight out of him as they were helped onto the back of the horses. Ropes were thrown over the branch of the overhead tree. Ropes that had been carefully knotted into a hangman's noose. The nooses were placed around Simon's and Blair's necks as the men prepared to hang them. During this, after Hank had kicked him, Jim Ellison lay in the dirt as slowly his jumbled thoughts came to the surface. Pounding in his ears, Blair's familiar heartbeat was racing with panic. A thin breeze brought to Ellison's sensitive nostrils the fear smell coming from his Guide. At that moment clarity struck down the Sentinel, and the huddled form that was, and always will be James Ellison came to the fore at the fear call of his Guide, and friend. At that moment, as he heard the laughter of their tormentors, and the familiar scents of those men who had been at the cabin at one time or another, and who by their own fortune had not been there the day Ellison escaped, filled his nostrils, Jim Ellison knew exactly what he had to do to save his Guide. Ellison slowly got to his knees and looked over at the horses that held his terrified friends, then looked straight at Jack Brecken. "Hey, limp dick!" Ellison yelled at Jack. Everyone turned to look at the man who moments before had been snarling and growling like a wolf. Ellison continued his tirade, "Yay, Jack, you piece of shit. Poor, little Jack. Can't be like your brother. Your not as big and tough as he was. But then neither was Richard, was he Jack. I did you a favor, Jack, when I killed your brother." "Shut the fuck up, Ellison. Or I'll fucking blow your lover's fucking brains out!" Jack yelled pointing his rifle at Sandburg. Forgive me, Chief. It's the only way, Ellison thought. Aloud he yelled, "Go ahead, Jack. But at least that kid can get it up. Seems to me I remember you pretty well Jack. Couldn't get that small, limp dick of yours to get up, could ya. Not like your brother, though. He could get it up. Yeah, he fucked me pretty good, but you couldn't could ya." Come on, Jack. Get mad at me. Come on over here, Ellison mentally urged. As he spoke he worked his hands free of the bindings, but kept his arms behind him so as not to give it away. Having been in that cabin for two weeks he had learned one thing. Jack had been jealous of his brother. Richard had been at that cabin that day though. Neck broken by a crazed Sentinel, his corpse was probably still rotting in that cabin. It made him sick to remember the details, but to save Blair he had no choice but to dredge them up. "Even I couldn't work it up for you, though you forced me to try and give you a blow job. Didn't work, though. It worked for you brother. Didn't take him long to get it up. It was big, too. Not like that small thing of yours." "FUCK YOU ELLISON!!! SHUT THE FUCK UP, YOU FUCKING SON OF A BITCH!!" Jack screamed as he stalked forward. Blair was listening to Jim's tirade, sickened by what Jim was saying. He watched Jack turn red with rage, and turn away from Sandburg and Simon to Jim. "I'll fucking show you, Ellison. I'll show you all how fucking good I am." Jack said. As he moved forward he began to unbuckle his belt anticipating what he was about to do. Jim was lying through his teeth about Jack being impotent. He knew from firsthand experience that it wasn't true. But he knew that Jack always felt inadequate against his brother's image. He knew it, and was using that to his advantage. As soon as Jack was within his reach, Jim moved quickly. He went from his knees to his feet and brought his right knee up into Jack's stomach, and brought his elbow down over the back of Jack's neck. He grabbed the 9mm that was tucked into the back of Jack's waistband and brought it up. Two shots rang out, two ropes split, and two terrified horses high tailed it into the mountains, their riders doing their best to stay on with their hands tied behind their backs. Hank came forward at that time, and hit Ellison with the butt of his M-16. Ellison fell to the ground unconscious. Angrily Jack turned to Eric who was holding the black paint, "Go after them, bring them back!" Eric nodded, then swung up into the saddle in one smooth motion spurring the horse after the other two. Blair held on with only the strength in his thighs as the horse galloped at a dead run through the forest. Behind his back, he worked at the ropes trying to free his hands. Behind him he could hear Simon cursing, but at least he was still on the his horse's back. Finally, Blair said as his hands slipped out of the ropes. He leaned over the horse's neck and grasps the reins. Pulling back on the reins, he slowed the horse until Simon's passed them. He galloped beside Simon's mare and reached out grabbing the animal's bridle and slowed both of the terrified horses to a halt. "Damn!" Was Simon's only response. "What do we do now, Simon. They've still got Jim." Blair said as he dismounted from his horse and helped Simon down. "Untie my wrists, Sandburg, we aren't out of the woods yet. They probably sent someone after us." Sandburg complied, and Simon took his back-up 38. out of the mare's saddlebags. "Good thing they didn't search in here." Suddenly they heard something big crashing through the woods behind them. The black paint appeared in the small clearing with the man named Eric on his back with his gun pointed at them. Simon shot the man, whose body tumbled from the back of the horse. Blair reached out and calmed the paint gelding, then turned to look at Simon who was checking to see if the man was still alive. "Is he dead?" Blair asked. "As a doornail." Simon answered. "We've gotta get back. There's no telling what that guy is doing to Jim right now!" Blair was getting worried and frightened by the thoughts running through his mind. "Problem is, there's too damn many of them for us to take on by ourselves, at least without one of us getting hurt. They've got more firepower than we do. Sandburg, I'm sorry, but we may have to wait till it gets dark. Then we can take out any sentries they have up, and maybe get in and take them down." "Damnit, Simon, nightfall is hours away! They've got Jim, and you heard what he said. He pissed that guy off big time, and you want to wait till dark!" Blair was angry now. Simon sighed. He knew Sandburg was right, but Simon couldn't think of anyway to get Ellison out without a high potential for casualties. Suddenly, it occurred to him. Simon reached into the pack and brought out his handheld radio and flipped it on and moved it to the frequency for Search and Rescue. "This is Captain Banks of Cascade PD to Search and Rescue. Be advised we have hostiles times ten about thirty miles southwest of the search point. I need for all civilians to be escorted from the area and a helicopter dispatched to the area along with more men. I repeat, we have hostiles thirty miles southwest of the search point. All civilians are to be evacuated." The radio squawked back, "This is Sherrif Davidson. 10-4 on that transmission. Helicopter is 76, 77 is forty minutes. Will continue to advise." "Why did you call them?" Blair was puzzled. "Because I saw that those guys had a scanner. I'm hoping they picked that up." "Why?" he said shocked. "All part of the plan, Sandburg. All part of the plan." Jim regained consciousness slowly as a throbbing pain pounded against his skull. Blood dripped down from the wound on the left side of his forehead falling into his left eye. His vision was a bit blurred, but Jim was able to find the dials and tone down the intense pain in his head. Blinking back blood, Jim looked around. He realized he was still were he had been hit, hands once again secured behind his back. The makeshift collar hugged his throat, and the rope running from it to the tree secured him there. Jim looked around. Five tents had been set up, and a cookfire was blazing in a small rock encircled pit. The FAAT soldiers moved around the camp busy with their daily tasks, and workouts. He heard the footfall beside him too late, and felt a booted foot kicked his already pained ribs. "So your finally awake, Ellison. Its about fucking time." It was Jack, and from the sound of his voice he was still pissed. Another kicked sent Ellison onto his back. "I still fucking owe you, Ellison. Let's just see how fucking impotent I am. On your knees!" He ordered kicking Ellison again. When Jim didn't move, Jack reach down and grabbed the collar in his hand and hauled the Sentinel to a kneeling position. Jim felt the collar loosen enough for him to breath, but Jack still had a firm hold. With his other hand, Jack unbuckled his belt, and unzipped his camaflauge pants. Reaching in he brought his penis out between the zipper and pulled Ellison closer to him. "You had better fucking suck it good Ellison, or you'll wish I'd fucked you in the ass. " The man said as he pulled Ellison's head even closer to him. Jack held his dick up with his free hand, the other one holding Jim by the collar around his neck. Jim turned his tactile, and taste dials down low. Closing his eyes, he took Jack's penis in his mouth trying to fight down the nausea churning in his stomach. Knowing there were worse things Jack could do to him compared to forcing Jim into giving the guy a blow job, Jim did as he was told. Having done this for other FAAT members including Jack's brother, and Jack himself for two weeks, Jim knew what to do. He took Jack's penis fully down his throat trying not to gag, and began to work it with his tongue and lips. Several minutes of swallowing and releasing Jack's penis had the effect Jack desired, and the man ejaculated while deep in Jim throat forcing Jim to swallow the salty tasting semen not for the first time. "Mmmmm, that's it. You know Ellison, your getting pretty good at this. Gives me a reason to keep you around longer." He threw Jim to the ground releasing his hold on the collar."But, now my men want to have their fun. Its been awhile, nearly four weeks since you've been fucked good. Now your back, here's your fucking homecoming." He kicked Ellison again, then walked off as Hank came forward already undoing his pants. Jim shuddered. He hated Hank, and really wished the bastard had been at the cabin that day. The man was a sadist, and most of Jim's scars came from Hank. Hank reached down and grabbed Jim by the collar as Jack had done. He pulled Ellison to his knees then, then pushed his head down against the ground. Jim tried to fight Hank, but the bigger man hit Jim across the face stunning the detective into submission. Hank took out his buck knife and tore through Jim's jeans not caring that he tore through skin and tissue as well. He tightened his grip on the collar cutting off the oxygen to the sentinel's brain for a few seconds then letting up. Jim remembered that Hank enjoyed causing pain while raping his victims. Hank took out his own penis and rubbed it with his hand until it grew and stiffened. Tightening the collar again, he impaled his large penis into Jim's anus. Jim bit his tongue to keep from crying out as blackness seeped in at the edges of his vision. Then the collar let up and the blackness slowly went away as he felt the knife cutting slowly across his back through his shirt as Hank began to pump rythmnically. He alternated between cutting Jim's back and buttocks with the knife, and tightening the collar while he pulled himself out of Jim's anus to the head of his penis then plunged in again. Jim closed his eyes and wished he was somewhere else. Unfortunatly, he had already escaped that prison, and didn't really want to go back to it. At least Blair is safe, he thought. That he knew with certainty. Hank continued to thrust in and out until he reached his climax while still deep within the Sentinel. Leaning over Jim, his penis still inside Jim, he nibbled on Jim's left ear then bit into it as he thrusted a few more time. He released Ellison's collar, then withdrew his penis. the others came forward to take their turns with the detective. Some of the others fucked Jim up the ass like Hank had done, and others forced Jim to give them blow jobs as Jack had done. There were a few who got a little creative. One would ass fuck Ellison while the other recieved a blow job at the same time. When they were all sated, they left the broken, bleeding Jim lying in a tight fetal position on the ground. As soon as they were done, Jim had vomited up the semen he had swallowed along with his meal from the night before. He lay curled up, his knees to his chest shivering from shock, cold, pain and fear. Simon and Blair had backtracked down the path on foot leaving the horses tied up back at the clearing. Simon was now armed with the rifle taking from the dead Eric, as well as his 9mm. Blair followed Simon. What had taken near fifteen minutes for the horses to run, took Simon and Blair forty minutes to walk. Plus they were more cautious, and took a more roundabout route to throw off any trackers. Simon took out one of the sentries after he had come to relieve the one before. It would give them more time before the man's absence would be noticed. For all that they were paramilitary, the men of FAAT were more like drunken rednecks after a night at the local bar, then tough, hardened soldiers. Some of them were still sleeping off the afteraffects of the booze they had consumed that morning. Blair spotted Jim easily. He saw that the sentinel was curled in a fetal postion. Blair had a feeling that they were probably to late to save Jim from being raped and tortured again. Ignoring the sick feeling in his gut, he followed Simon's layed out plan. Blair crouched down behind some wildberry bushes. From his position he was in direct line of sight from were the sentinel was. The tree Jim was tied to was but a few yards away. Blair hoped that Jim was conscious. "Jim, " He whispered. "If you are awake buddy shift a bit, okay" Blair watched a Jim moved around a bit, but never uncurled himself. "Simon's going to create a diversion, and while he's doing that, I'm going to untie you. Are you going to be able to walk?" Blair was speaking so low that only a Sentinel's extraordinary hearing could pick it up. Jim sorta nodded his head, trying desperatly not to attract the attention of his captors. Blair breathed a sigh of relief as he waited. As it happened, he didn't have to wait long. The sound of gunfire roared around them as Simon began firing among the tents. Three men were taken out, but not killed in the burst of gunfire. Simon stopped firing, and using his Army trained skills, he changed positions quickly and quietly. The FAAT men were gathering up their guns, while others raced out of the tents zipping up their pants or putting on clothes. The one Jim had called Jack raced around trying to shout orders, the burly man, Hank, at his side. From his new position, Simon began to fire again. One of the bullets managed to hit Hank in the shoulder, but the man seemed unfazed as he fired his own weapon in the direction Simon had been at. During this, Blair was trying his best to use the scant cover to reach Jim's side, Swiss Army knife in hand. The men were too busy trying to get Simon, they never noticed the anthropologist crawling through the brush. When he reached Jim's side, he noticed the torns jeans, and shirt, as well as the blood covering both. Gritting his teeth to keep from vomiting he reached out and touched Jim's shoulder. The Sentinel flinched, his body remembering, even with his mind reminding it that this man was his friend and Guide. Blair removed his hand away quickly and set to work on cutting through the ropes trying to hunker down behind Jim so as to not be in sight relying on Jim to warn him if anyone came around. The gunfire continued, as well as the shouts. After freeing Jim's hands, he reached over to undoe the makeshift collar around his sentinel's neck. When Jim flinched away again from his touch, Blair used the knife to cut the rope quickly leaving Jim to remove the collar. From the waistband of his pants he removed the 38. that Simon had had handing it over to Jim. Jim slowly regained his feet and took the 38. A footfall, soft and faint even to his ears, made him turn. Hank stood five feet from the Sentinel, M-16 at the ready. That Jim had heard him and turned was so unexpected that Hank never managed to fire a shot. The Sentinel didn't hesitate however. One bullet right between the eyes took the sadistic son of a bitch down. "Cascade PD, lay down your arms, and surrender!" Simon yelled. Unfortunatly, the men were too drunk or perhaps to high to listen. The remaining few fired their weapons. Jim took out two more and Simon finished off the remaining three. Jack died from a stray bullet from one of his own men who had been in a drug induced panic. When the carnage was over, Jim Ellsion, sentinel of the Great City, collapsed in the arms of his Guide, partner and friend who caught him as he fell. Prologue Simon Banks called for assistance over the radio as he stood admist the bloody bodies of the members of FAAT. The Sherrif had of course said a helicoptor was enroute. This time for real. The earlier conversation had been a ruse. He had made it seem as if Simon was truly lost. They weren't southwest of the search point, but southeast. The men had relaxed when they believed that no help was coming. the ruse had worked, thoug he was going to have to explain the whole thing to the Sherrif later. Clipping the radio to his belt, Simon glanced over at Blair who was holding Jim against his chest. The Sentinel had slipped into unconsciousness after the firefight was over. Shock perhaps, blood loss. Whatever it was, and whatever had happened, Simon knew that Jim was in good hands. Blair held Jim against his chest rocking him slowly as he used his Guide voice to try and soothe the unconscious Sentinel. Slowly, Jim came awake at the sound of Blair's voice. At first his body's reaction was to get away, but he forced it to shut up and lean into his Guide's comforting arms as tears fell freeling down his face. Blair had been startled when Jim's whole body seem to tense up, but then calmed as it eased against him. He heard soft crying as he felt hot tears splash against his hand. Holding on tighter, he rocked his Sentinel as he would a frightened child, while Jim cried out his fear and pain. Blair continued to talk in a soothing soft voice only his Sentinel could hear. "It's alright, Jim. Ssshhh...your safe now, they are never going to hurt you again....ssshhhhh." The litany continued. Jim continued to cry, unembarrassed and unabashed at his behavior. The demons had torn him to pieces, but his Guide was there to help put them back together again. His fears eased with each word Blair said, and with each beat of the familiar heartbeat only he could hear. Jim Ellison fell asleep in his partners arms, a deep comforting sleep with his Guide close at hand to take away the nightmares as he heard the distant sound of a helicoptor before consciousness was lost. He awoke some hours later in a hospital bed. At first the intense lights made him wince, but Blair was there. With his hand on Jim's shoulder and his soothing Guide voice, he talked Jim through the technique of turning down the dial of his enhanced sight until the bright hospital lights were tolerable. "Where am I?" Jim asked in a hoarse whisper. "Cascade General. Simon had a helicoptor airlift you out. That was about... " He looked at his watch, "...five hours ago. Are you thirsty?" Jim nodded, and Blair fill a glass of water that had a flexible straw in it. Holding it near Jim's head, Sandburg watched his Sentinel drink the water hesitantly. When he was finished, Blair placed the glass back on the table next to the pitcher. It was at that moment that the doctor walked in. "So our patient is awake. Nothing keeps you out for long does it detective." Dr. Elayne Kyter said as she looked over Ellsion's charts. "I was sedated." He said a touch of fear in his voice. Sandburg layed a hand on Jim's shoulder trying to comfort the agitated Sentinel. "Yes, " Dr. Kyter said. "Your body needed the rest, and frankly you probably don't remember but when your were brought in you became extremely violent toward the EMT's which is understandable considering the circumstances. I believed it to be in your best interests that you be sedated during the initial examination." She explained as she wrote down a few things on the chart. "we have already sent out samples of your blood to be tested for STD's, and the rape kit was done on the initial exam. I personally didn't want my neck snapped while trying to help a patient." She smiled at him. Jim realized that he didn't blame her at all. He vaguely remembered threatening to snap someone's neck, but he couldn't remember all the details. "Sorry about that." He said. "Already forgiven and forgotten, Mr. Ellison. Now, Mr. Sandburg, I need you to leave while I examine Detective Ellison, if your please." The doctor was already drawing the curtain around the bed. Jim had tensed up at the thought of being examined, but Sandburg was already anticipating that. He whispered in a voice only his Sentinel could hear. "Just listen to my heartbeat, Jim. Follow it and listen. Listen to the blood rushing through my veins, listen to each steady beat as the heart pumps inside my chest." He was using his Guide voice as he back ed out of the room. Jim could still hear him even as the door closed behind his Guide. Jim listened and found that heartbeat. So familiar and calming that he had fallen asleep many a times to that steady beat, and as he was being thoroughly examined the heartbeat helped him relax and ignore what was happening. Dr. Kyter walked out of the private room to find Captain simon Banks waiting in the hallway with Blair Sandburg. She had given her initial report to the captain five hours earlierwhen Ellison had been brought in screaming and fighting the EMTS. It had taken several orderlies to hold Detective Ellison down while she had given the sedative. Her findings had proven Captain Banks suspicions that Detective Ellsion had been tortured and raped numerous times. She had soon discovered that most of his tormentors were dead, and others occupied another hospital. So she had understood Jim Ellison's reactions when first brought in. All the EMTS had been male, as well as the orderlies who had helped restrain him. She noticed now that Jim had been calm when she had done the exam, and wondered if the young anthropologist had anything to do with that. She had seen how the men reacted to each other when one was brought in. How the very presence of the partner helped in the speedy recovery of the wounded partner. His reaction underscored her decision to allow Blair sandburg access to his partner. "How's he doing, Dr. Kyter?" Captain Banks asked. "He is healing captain, at least physically. I am not a psychiatrists however, so I cannot account for his mental and emotional state. He seemed rather calm during this last exam, but I believe Mr. Sandburg's presence had something to do with that. Oh, you can go back in, Blair." "Thankyou, Dr. Kyter." Blair smiled, then walked back into the room. Blair sat in the chair next to Ellison's bed and reached out and touched his friends arm. Jim flinched at the touch and opened his icy blue eyes quickly, but once he saw Sandburg the tension left his body immediatly. Sandburg had to fight back tears as he looked at his seemingly lost and broken Sentinel. We'll get through this together, Jim, Sandburg thought as he slowly stroked Jim's arm in a comforting gesture. I will be here with you through everything. Aloud he said, "How are ya feeling, Jim?" "Kinda scared, Chief. Lost..." He trailed off shaking his head as tears formed in his eyes. At that Sandburg leaned forward and wrapped his arms around his friend's shoulders. "Go ahead and cry all you want, Jim. I'm here and I'm not leaving. Go ahead and drown me in tears, I can swim just fine." He whispered and Jim shook and cried in his friends arms like he had in the woods after his rescue. Tears fell down his cheeks as he sobbed in a low tone while his body shook involuntarily from reaction. They continued like that undisturbed for a couple of hours while Jim cried himself out. He fell back to sleep with Blair's arms around him feeling warm and content. Blair knew they had a long way to go to get Jim to be whole again, but he knew that the healing process had begun with the tears he had shed. Whatever happens, my friend, my Sentinel, we will face it together,Blair thought as he kissed his friends forehead and brushed his hand across Jim's face wet with tears. He sat back down in the chair and continued his vigil. While his Sentinel slept, the Guide kept watch for any demons that might plague his Sentinel's dreams. The End Well, what do you think? Comments, good or bad. I can take it. I myself am finally relieved I finished it. I am not sure though that it came out like I wanted it to. The sequel to this story, called Learning to Live, is in the works. I hope to put in alot of comfort and smarm in the sequel. Comments and Feedback Welcome!mailto:Stormwolf2000@hotmail.com
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