Devil Dawg Donnelly

Standard disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to people or actual events is purely coincidental.

You may contact the author at Ulfr57@gmail.com All comments, suggestions and/or obsevations are welcome if presented respectfully.

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Devil Dawg Donnelly's: Revelations

Chapter One:

"They are in front of us, behind us, and we are flanked on both sides by an enemy that outnumbers us 29:1. They can't get away from us now!"

– Lewis B. "Chesty" Puller, Brigadier General USMC

"You must have drawn the short straw to get stuck do'in babysittin' duty McGregor" Brock Gryzinski mused as he fiddled with the remote controls navsat transform nodes to the surveillance drone he and Gavin Hollis were working on.

Carl didn't even glance in his direction as he continued to lean against the frame of the open front door to the Devil Dawg compounds cabin, staring into the darkness in the general direction of the ceremonial grounds: "Actually, I was volunteered so I could keep an eye on you so you wouldn't do anything stupid like try to fly a drone equipped with night-vision cameras over the ceremonial grounds while Danal and Max conduct Billy's Heritage ceremony."

"Buuusted!" JD crooned whimsically as he sat next to Jason Dunne at the table across the room in front of the french doors that led out to the back deck of the cabin.

All evening long JD had been trying to distract an ever-increasingly anxious and temperamental Jason, having only just a few minutes ago, talked him into sitting with him at the table instead of pacing aggressively back and forth in front of the fireplace, an action that was putting everyone else on edge until he had managed to calm him enough to sit with him, all the while trying to get him to discuss his bizarre and sudden mood shift.

"I can't explain it JD." Jason had groaned quietly to him when they first sat down: "It's like I know something's not right, but I can't quite put my finger on what it is."

JD had responded by taking Jason's hands in his, an action that only increased his concern when he felt how sweaty his palms were and how his fingers trembled like someone who had drunk way too much caffeine.

It wasn't just his hands either, JD noted, his entire body seemed like a rubber band drawn to tight, tense, and strained to the point of snapping, evidenced by the beads of sweat that poured down his forehead and by his continuously flitting eyes about the room as if searching for something that wasn't there or just out of range of his perceptions.

It didn't help matters that Timmy had removed the two swords from the wall by the front door and was continuously slicing and swiping them through the air not ten feet in front of them.

"Do you mind young man?!" Elizabeth Dunne scolded, as her eyes stared like two daggers right at the golden-haired angelic looking Timmy Anderson: "You could seriously injure someone doing that in here." she added, by way of explanation.

Timmy twirled around once, bringing the twin swords together, before flipping them into the air to spin several times and catching them simultaneously by their handles and returning them to their resting mounts on the wall behind him. Turning back to Elizabeth, Timmy did a mixture that was somewhere in between a bow and a curtsy in her direction: "A thousand pardons milady." he crooned melodically.

Elizabeth smiled back at him: "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you, I just don't get why we all have to sit locked up in here when we could be watching William's transf..."

"ELIZABETH!" Carl snapped, nearly growling, instantly interrupting her, his icy stare glaring at her: "Do I need to remind you that you are here as a guest of Max's and are expected to abide by his rules?"

Carl stepped back into the room shutting the door behind him and locking it.

Elizabeth Dunne bowed her head, averting her gaze from Carl's: "Excuse me, everyone, I'm just not myself tonight, don't pay any attention to me."

"I don't know..." Gavin said, looking up for the first time from the keyboard of his laptop: "I'd kinda like to hear you finish what you were going to say."

Elizabeth's eyes grew wide as she now furtively looked back and forth between Carl and Gavin, not knowing exactly how she should respond, her lips moving without making a sound as she stammered nervously.

"Yeah, I don't get it either" JD chimed in, adding his voice to Gavin's: "All I've heard my entire life is Heritage this and Heritage that, what the fuck does that mean anyway?"

"Watch your mouth young man, there are ladies present" Carl fumed, turning the full force of his gaze on JD now.

"Oh, I don't mind.." Timmy snickered as he leaned over the table on his elbows with his chin in his hands next to where JD and Jason were sitting, to smile disarmingly at Carl: "I'd kind of like to know more about what we're not supposed to see as well."

"I think we can all guess what you're hoping to see kid." Brock chuckled, rolling his eyes suggestively.

Timmy stood up, stretched, and yawned: "Oh, did you say something?..."Timmy mocked, looking right at Brock, his bright blue eyes twinkling impishly: "I'm so used to ignoring everything you say, it's hard to tell sometimes."

Brock was just about to retort when Jason jumped to his feet, practically sending the table scooting across the floor as his chair flew back to crash against the wall behind him: "Somethings wrong!" he shouted as he moved protectively in front of JD.

Carl sensed it too, whirling around in the direction of the door, cocking his head, his nose in the air a snarl on his lips, his hand raised in the air cautioning them all into silent, rapt attention.

Brock rose slowly, his hand on Gavin's shoulder protectively ushering him slowly behind him as he braced himself to ask the question on all their minds when they heard it... the rapid firing shots of rifle fire off in the distance, coming from the Ceremonial grounds.

Miriam Hollis was exhausted as she pulled into the driveway of the modern ranch-style home she shared with her son Gavin.

It had been a long two weeks balancing her own work with covering for her friend and colleague Anna Whitmore at the university while she vacationed with her son Baxter, not that she was complaining, Anna had been instrumental in hiring her years ago after she and her husband divorced. It had been years since Anna had taken any real time off and she couldn't begrudge her spending some quality time with her own boy, something she wished she could get Gavin interested in doing with her.

Normally, Miriam's work as an archivist meant she was usually very busy herself helping researchers and law students gather the necessary books and references that best detailed and suited whatever need they required, but low student occupation during the summer months, usually made for a lighter workload for her and the other staff, today, however, she had stayed over because the University had scheduled an LGBT discussion panel and she had wanted to check it out.

For quite some time now, she had suspected her son might be gay. It wasn't anyone particular thing that made her feel that way, nothing that wasn't stereotypical anyway.

No, her suspicions were mostly observational and most of that was due to his interactions with the Gundarson boy; any person with a pair of eyes could see by the way he looked at and interacted with him, or by his body language, that what he felt for that boy was way more than just mere friendship; additionally, his most recent attraction toward this new boy in his life, Billy Donnelly, seemed to be sparking his interest as well, not that she blamed him, the young man had a great sense of humor, not to mention being both quite athletic and very handsome.

At least her son had good taste in boys, she chuckled to herself.

To date, she had yet to have any substantive conversation with Gavin about her suspicions, feeling that it was probably in his best interest to let him broach the topic with her, on his own terms, when he was ready, deciding instead to just make it generally known to her son that she was open-minded about sexuality and discussion's about sex in general, anytime he wanted, consciously deciding back when he was just fifteen, and after his first encounters with Arlis Gundarson made it apparent that what he was feeling for the boy was more than just friendship, she had then felt she had to do the responsible parental thing and have the "sex talk" with her teen son.

She had tried to make the conversation as ambiguous as possible by avoiding either male or female pronouns so as not to upset or imply her suspicions regarding his sexual orientation.

Over the last couple of years, Miriam was becoming increasingly aware of how bright and intelligent her son was, not that he hadn't always seemed above the curve intellectually, but she was growing a little concerned with his apparent lack of interest in socializing with others his own age, that is until he started hanging around Billy.

From the start she could see the positive influence he seemed to have on him, even getting him interested in working out and doing things outside the confines of his bedroom, where he normally spent most of his evenings or days off, with the only exception being his usual Sunday visits with Arlis on his families farm and working part-time for his uncle at the Piggly Wiggly.

Though she now missed her son terribly, she couldn't help but see how much he was blossoming both physically and emotionally, even to the point he was now spending a few weeks hanging out doing some sort of summer camp training with a group of Marines in central Georgia at Billy's families camp.

It was through Anna Whitmore she had met Billy's father Max once at a parent-teacher meeting at their son's high school and she couldn't imagine her son now being in safer hands than his.

She found her thoughts drifting momentarily as she brought up the mental image she had crafted of him, standing there in the school cafeteria, where they all shared refreshments after their individual and group meetings with the principal, teachers, and various other staff; his lightly tanned skin and dark contrasting body hair, glinting over the rippling muscles of his muscular forearms and on top of his head, cut in what she had learned later was called a high and tight, the traditional haircut those men serving in the Marine Corps seemed to prefer and one she herself found most attractive and complementary to such a masculine, intelligent man.

The fact that he had worn a uniform that seemed to fit him as snuggly as a second skin and the notably massive bulge in the front of those dark blue gabardine, red pinstriped trousers only served to add to and complete the overall effect of his sexual appeal.

It was another thought she found amusing, accepting she was having a hard time picturing her son "roughing it" in the great outdoors, alongside such men, but she could hear in his voice how much he was enjoying himself when he called the night before, enthusiastically detailing the various physical exercises and courses he was doing, even seeming to enjoy the self-defense courses, something Miriam was truly appreciative for, knowing full well her son was sorely lacking in any kind of skill set that he could use to defend himself, and while she didn't want him to ever resort to violence, she wasn't so naive as to think he might never be in a situation where he might have too.

It also didn't hurt that Billy Donnelly seemed to genuinely enjoy her son's companionship and seemed more than capable, she felt, of being able to protect Gavin if the need ever arose, at least she hoped so anyway.

All these thoughts wafted through Miriam's head as she stepped out of her vehicle and loaded her arms with the bags of groceries she had just bought at the store on her way home.

She barely took notice of the red and off-white-colored, older trick that pulled up across the street adjacent to her house, though it had briefly run through her head that it seemed vaguely familiar, it just as quickly faded from her immediate concern as she struggled with the keys to the front door, grappling and juggling with the two bags of groceries in her arms, being more prescient.

She had no sooner won her battle with the front door latch when the first flashes of lightning ushered in the arrival of a fast-moving summer storm. She barely had the front door closed when the torrential rains and gusting winds began in earnest.

Miriam fumbled with the entrance light switch using her elbow to try and flip it before coming to the realization the power was out, which she found slightly odd since she had noticed that the street lights were on: "Probably just tripped a breaker" she thought to herself as she carefully wound her way from the hallway entrance into the living room, where she planned to cross the room and make her way to the kitchen island that separated the kitchen from the living room when another bright flash of lightning illuminated the entire room through the double glass doors of the patio and she saw the dark shape of a man, dressed all in black standing just a few feet away from her.

Startled, she instantly dropped the grocery bags and shouted out: "Who the hell are you and why are you in my house!?" she demanded, fumbling with her purse, her fingers diving inside searching through the contents for the small can of mace she always carried inside for her own protection, something she had learned to do over the years working on a university campus.

She barely had time to pull the small can out and aim it in the general direction of the mysterious figure before he grabbed her, snatching her by the wrist and slammed it and her against the wall, causing her to drop it before she even had the chance to use it.

'Where's the boy?" she heard her assailant hiss, between clenched teeth, his voice an insidious mixture of arrogance and intentional, malevolent intimidation.

It was kind of hard to understand him, but she recognized the accent as German.

"I don't know who you're talking about" she managed to stammer, as her free left hand fumbled around in the darkness beside her looking for anything she might possibly use as a weapon on the TV standoff to her side before settling on the ten-inch long hand-carved wooden plaque that spelled out the word "peace."

"I know you have a son Mrs. Hollis, I've already searched your house, now where is he!?" the dark figure insisted as he drew closer, squeezing her right wrist even tighter causing her to wince at the increasing discomfort from his constrictive grasp.

The combination of both the adrenaline and the natural adjustment of her night vision, along with the frequent flashes of lightning, illuminated the man in front of her.

The low threatening tones of his raspy voice, left no doubt the menacing nature of his purpose here and Miriam was silently grateful for her son's absence, but now feared for her own safety.

"He's where you can't reach him you fucking bastard" she spat in his face defiantly as her fingers gripped the placard in her free hand, swinging it upward just as she brought her left knee up to kick him between the legs as hard as she could.

Four sharp "somethings", that felt like razors, raked across the top of her thigh, slicing through her dress slacks and into her flesh leaving what she knew had to be four gaping wounds, just as she whipped the peace placard against the side of his head as hard as she could, causing it to shatter and him to stumble backward, momentarily dazed and stunned.

The searing pain in her thigh caused her to scream and wince in agony as she tried to lunge away from him sideways and back toward the front door.

Faster than humanly possible, she felt the man's body slam her against the wall again with such force she was certain she could hear a couple of her ribs crack as he now held her by both wrists against the wall in a grip that was monstrously strong.

She could feel the heat of his hot breath on her face as he practically snarled into her left ear: "If he's not here, then he must be with the Donnelly brat then." The man chuckled, a deep guttural sound that sent shivers down her spine, making her flinch and her stomach churn.

"If that's the case..." he growled and snorted sinisterly as he drew back slightly, the iris's of his eyes suddenly glowing an eerie, sickening, baleful red before concluding: "Then he's already dead!"

Hearing his words, fear and trepidation washed over Miriam Hollis as she began to struggle not only for her freedom but for fear and concern for her son's safety, and despite the throbbing pain in her thigh and chest, she screamed out for help, hoping against hope that one of her neighbors might hear over the cacophonous rumbles of thunder that boomed incessantly outside.

She watched in terror as the man holding her by her left wrist began to laugh insidiously as his face began to contort into a fierce, distorted, and animalistic mask straight out of a horror movie.

She could hear the cracking of bones and the gnashing of ligaments as his body twisted and contorted into a bestial shape she had thought had only been the stuff of nightmares and ancient, superstitious legends.

Miriam grew frantic, gyrating, pivoting, and tugging relentlessly against the beast's hold, yanking at her own arm, trying anything to extricate his grip on her as his snarling spit sputtering snout nipped and lashed near her exposed neck.

Despite her best efforts, the grip on her left wrist tighten, and just as she felt the bones in her arm begin to splinter, could hear them begin to crack and snap, just before she blacked out in both pain and unimaginable terror and anguish, a large shape burst through the front door, disintegrating it into a thousand shards and wooden projectiles.

The last thing Miriam Hollis saw that night, was a golden-haired giant slamming into the monstrous, disfigured shape, leaving her to slide down the wall into a pool of her own blood and all-consuming, vertiginous darkness.

A vast expanse of stars twinkled in the nighttime sky, in numbers he had never seen before, just another side effect and benefit his now expanding senses allotted him he thought to himself as he lay there on the cold stones of the dais where his father had just shoved him to the ground mere seconds ago.

He was barely aware, through the din of shouts and the rapid staccato of explosive gunfire, that he could hear his father's voice as it continually repeated and asked: "William are you okay?!"

Billy was trying to answer, but the misshapen structure of his metamorphosed snout and the large canine teeth that now filled his oral cavity, made articulating words problematic, the best he seemed to be able to manage were growls, snorts, and rolling snarls.

He could feel his father's and Danal's hands fumbling with the shackles on his ankles, could hear and feel the cold metal slip from his flesh, finally freeing his lower extremities.

Pain still coruscated throughout his entire body, centering on the medallion on his chest and expanding outward like white-hot tendrils burning not only from the center of his chest but blazing hotly in his brain, noting there was a subtle but profound difference between the two.

While one seemed to be intuitive to the changes subsuming him the other seemed responsive to those changes; one force fighting in oppositional battle, one against the other, the latter solely dependent in sustaining its ever-increasing expansion of his mounting perceptions.

Billy laid there, letting the battle rage within and around him, allowing it to grow and build until the pain became almost an afterthought, as if it were some sort of disembodied experience he could choose to disassociate himself from, yet filled every fiber of his being.

He lay there motionless until the concerned face of his father filled and blocked his vision: "Son, are you injured anywhere?" Billy heard him say, his face now the familiar one he was use to, not the misshapen, wolf-like beast he had transformed into moments ago before the attack.

The attack! His family, his friends, his comrades, almost everyone he cared about or loved were now all in danger, it raged around him while he just lay there, letting it happen.

Billy pushed his father back with his one free hand and tried to sit up, to will his body into motion and as he did so, he could see, as if in slow motion, the bullets that darted above and beside him, he could hear them, each and every one distinctively as they struck the stone of the pylons or dinged against the twin metal doors of the Reliquary right behind him.

He turned his head to his left just in time to see a rising Danal try to dodge one such bullet as it hurtled toward his chest, he watched as he managed to pivot away, though not quite quickly enough. Billy watched it all in time elapsed progression; seeing the bullet as it cleanly entered Danal's right shoulder, throwing him back slightly just as it impacted before it exploded out the back of his deltoid sending a bloody spray splashing all over Billy's left side.

Billy turned his head toward his father, watching as he now moved toward the elderly man who thudded against the ground beside him, he could see the glint of reflective light as it bounced off the bullets heading directly toward his father's now exposed back.

More swiftly than he had ever thought humanly or inhumanly possible, Billy lurched forward, his right arm sweeping upward as he almost subconsciously deflected two of those bullets using the metal of the shackle that still surrounded his right wrist.

As his father's body covered Danal's and his head turned to look in Billy's direction, he could see the startled expression that consumed his father's face as he realized what he had just done, no one being more surprised between the two of them than Billy himself.

He thought exactly what his father must be thinking at that moment... no one could move that swiftly!

Billy tried to roll away from his father and Danal as he saw Hank dart to his father's aid as they re-positioned Danal behind the protective cover of the nearest stone obelisk, he turned his head to see both Atticus and Jake assuming a protective position on his other side, moving as if to shield his body with their own.

Billy threw his head back in frustration and anger and in that very instant, from somewhere deep within the center of his being, he let out a howling roar that drowned out and silenced everyone and everything within the valley of the Devil Dawg Ceremonial grounds.

All eyes, whether friend, companion or foe, fell upon him, watched as he rose up to his full height, as he stared out over the expanse of the grounds, his eye's two blazing, argent stars that pierced not only the darkness around them but penetrated each and every one of their beings, right down to their core, subsuming them with fear, dread, and amazement.

The momentary, startled silence shattered when Billy felt, rather more than heard, the cocking of four rifles behind him. He pivoted quickly to see four figures, dressed head to toe in black, standing at the top of the stoned arch of the Reliquary, some fourteen feet above them, now moving to take aim in his direction.

Four pairs of eyes, one set bright green, one pair golden yellow, and the last two a fiery orange, all glowering back at him as the one with bright green eyes barked guttural orders in what Billy was sure was German.

As their rifles slowly raised to position, their sites leveling on him, Billy stepped forward, instantly feeling the tug of the chain on his left arm that was still secured to the stone obelisk to his left side.

Almost instinctively, Billy pulled from the deep well of the white blazing energy that burned within him sending it out like pulsating waves to flow throughout his body, he clasped the chain with his left hand, and with a shrug of his shoulder, he pulled it taut until it strained against the stone that comprised the pylon.

He could hear the metal practically screech eerily as the force of tension flowed down its length, cracking the stone of the obelisk where the large metal ring the chain was attached to ran through it.

No sooner than the darkly dressed figures had set eyes to their scopes, than the two-foot top section of the pylon splintered and cracked and suddenly come crashing down in a cloud of shards, debris and dust at Billy's side.

As their rifles fired their first salvo, Billy pivoted, and once again, he moved with such speed it defied description, easily dodging each of the four rounds before letting out a huge snarl and yanking once again on the thick chain sending the two-foot section of stone it was still attached to, soaring through the air in a wide arc to come crashing against the two figures with orange glowing iris's.

The sound of rending flesh, splintering bones and the surprised howls of anguish reverberated and echoed across the valley before the two forms came crashing down on the stone surface of the dais, lifeless and mangled by the sheer force of the impacting stone bludgeon Billy had just wielded against them.

The green-eyed intruder howled in rage as both he and his yellow-eyed companion shifted almost instantly into their half man half Wolfen bestial forms and launched themselves directly at Billy.

Behind them, six more figures appeared momentarily at the top of the Stone arch before dropping down to the dais where they were met by both Atticus Walker and Jake Bauers.

Like the darkly dressed figures preceding them, both Jake and Atticus shifted into their bestial forms as they darted toward them to meet their challenge, crashing into them full-body as claws and teeth began to rip and slash into their opponents, blood splattering everywhere.

Before him, Billy watched as the large yellow-eyed figure landed directly in front of him, still about six feet away, as it glowered back at him, crouching down, every muscle in its muscular body coiling as its huge misshapen form prepared to hurl itself at Billy, snarling and snapping its toothy jaws at him like a crazed, rabid animal.

"He's mine..." A deep growling voice boomed from right behind the figure as he moved to the side to step around the hulking yellow-eyed figure.

Two emerald green glowing eyes bore malevolently into Billy's gaze, the somewhat large, rather handsome dirty blond-haired man who otherwise held his human guise, flipping his German army issued Heckle and Koch G36 assault rifle around to his back as he slowly strode toward him, his fist clenching and unclenching at his side: "I'm going to enjoy ripping this mongrel limb from limb with my bare hands." he concluded, with all the arrogance his position within the Kampfhund afforded him.

"I'm almost tempted to let you try Gunther" Max Donnelly chuckled as he silently stepped out of the shadows of what was left of the stone obelisk, to stand by Billy's right side.

Gunther Kline refocused his attention on Max, a sideways cocky snarl escaping between his clenched, gnashing teeth: "Two for the price of one...." he mused in his deep German accent, adding: "You can't imagine how happy that will make my Alpha!"

Behind the man, Billy could see the battle that continued to rage between the two figures as Atticus and Jake continued to battle what was left of the six others that had joined this little soiree.

As Max stepped forward, his iris's began to glow a bright blue as his arms came up to fold across his chest: "I really can't see why he would be so happy to have me send one of his Beta's and Gamma's back to him in pieces, but who am I to argue" he goaded as the tension mounted between them.

With a spittle spewing growl, Gunther Kline launched himself into the air, his form shifting almost instantly into his half human half wolf shape, his extended claw-like fingers slicing through the air heading straight toward Max's throat, while his hulking companion sprung directly toward Billy.

Again, the burning tendrils of white-hot power surged outward from both Billy's mind and chest, as he leaped into the air easily dodging the massive misshapen, snarling beast, hauling the chain and the large two-foot section of stone that had, until recently, been the top of the obelisk, arcing into the darkened sky as he bounded over him, only to land safely behind him before hauling the large stone back by the chain, still in mid-air like a whip, snapping it back almost instantly, to rip through the air and crash into the startled giants back, once again, shattering and splintering bones and sinew and sending the mangled body of the monstrous beast soaring through the air to land directly into the blazing flames of the ceremonial bonfire, scattering sparks and red hot coals and fiery embers sprawling in every direction as the figure burst into agonizing flames.

Billy whipped around again, thinking to assist his father, but noting, with no small degree of pride as his father had caught Gunther Kline by the right arm and now slammed him face-first into one of the large metal doors of the Reliquary stunning him momentarily as he stammered backward right into Max's left elbow, which crashed against his upper back causing him to crash with a thud against the stone floor of the dais.

Gunther Kline shifted back to his human form as he lay on the ground, helplessly spitting up blood and weakly trying to push himself up onto his hands and knees only to have Max's foot come grinding down on his neck with just enough force to shatter every bone in his upper spine leaving a lifeless husk, belching blood from its gaping maw.

Billy stared at his father and back at the figure whose blood now splattered the surface of the stone dais, his Dad looking like he had barely broken a sweat, when a sudden wave of urgency swept over him, needling at his subconscious causing him to expand his senses outward, as every hair on the back of his neck stood up.

He watched as the two blood-covered shapes of Atticus Walker and Jake Bauers, having vanquished their own opponents just as ruthlessly, joined him and his father as his expanded senses spanned the entire valley of the ceremonial grounds.

With his newly acquired night vision, assisted by the incoming flashes of lightning that lit up the entirety of the area as the rapidly moving storm began to pelt them with large drops of warm summer rain and the cool blast of gusting winds, he could make out the figures of his comrades, Barin, Rex, Scott and a few of the others, reign bullets down on their invaders from their protective cover on every side as the rest of the men that had come to witness his transformation and induction into the Heritage, now transformed into their bestial forms, fought hand to hand with the invaders, driving them into the woods and giving chase after them.

As the light rain turned into a downpour and the wind shifted, Billy was once again assailed by the stench of something unnatural and wrong, when in the distance the sharp, high pitched scream of a woman echoed off in the distance only to fade in the cacophonous thundering booms of the now raging storm.

It was good to be home, Baxter Whitmore thought to himself. It had been a lot of fun spending a week at the beach with his Mom, laying out in the sun in what he jokingly referred to as his SPF one million sunblock that his Mom made him use to prevent his pasty ass from getting a near-terminal case of sunburn he would have acquired without its use.

He had loved just sitting idly back, basking in the warm glow of the Florida sun watching the various hunky boys and men meander by, openly ogling them anonymously from the safety of his reflective front sunglasses, while he pretended to read some sports magazine he had purchased at one of the local beach kiosks.

One of the things he noted that differentiated from vacationing with his Mom over vacationing at the Devil Dawg compound with Billy and his family, was that his Mom would never ever consider relaxing the no beer or wine restriction that Max often allowed them to do, strictly supervised of course, and of course the clothing-optional freedom they had staying there, sure, there were nude beaches around where they were, but Baxter didn't even need to guess where his Mom would fall on any hint or suggestion of that happening, her Stygian choice of swimwear was indicative on were her views fell on public displays of nudity, remembering the stern looks she gave him when he wore a pair of slightly higher than mid-thigh trunks one day, making her opinion well known that she thought he was showing to much skin.

Baxter laughed to himself at the remembrance, wondering what she would have thought if she knew how many guys actively hit on him when he'd leave her on her own to soak up the rays as he swam in the cool ocean waters. Initially, if he was being truthful, the first couple of times he had found it rather awkward and even a little embarrassing at how blatant some of them were, but his teenage libido soon overrode that and he actually found himself sometimes enjoying the attention, especially if he found the guy to be attractive as well.

Of course, guy watching wasn't all he did while they were there, his Mom had rented him a jet ski on one of the days and he had made the most of it exploring the entire beach area and even on one occasion racing some dolphins, but the real highlight of the week-long beach romp was when he was able to talk his Mom into going parasailing behind a boat over the ocean.

It had taken some pretty intense pleading and cajoling to get her to do it, but once up there, it was more than apparent she had as much of a blast as he had.

The second week of their vacation had been spent on his Grandparents small farm in Alabama, and while it lacked the excitement of parasailing with his Mom, it made up for with great home-cooked food and afternoon fishing with his Grandfather down by the local fishing hole or just whiling away the hot summer afternoons either horseback riding or swimming in the large pond located toward the back nine of the farm; it was secluded enough that he could have gone skinny dipping, but eschewing that idea for the most part because he never knew when either his Grandfather or his mother might show up unannounced.

Deep down though, Baxter realized, that it reminded him of the compound and most of all of Billy.

Even after two weeks apart, there still wasn't a single day that had passed where he didn't find his thoughts constantly dredging up some comparison to something he had done with him or catching himself thinking how much Billy would have enjoyed doing what he was doing at any given time.

Each and every instance that happened, he found himself missing him until it finally forced him to reevaluate that last day at the compound with him, going over it and over it again, as if it were constantly on replay in his head, that tragic conversation they had had at the ceremonial grounds which had caused him to clam up and build a mental and emotional barrier shutting Billy out.

As the days passed, he found the age-old adage "time heals all wounds" to become more of a truism and reluctantly came to the conclusion that he might have been judging Billy a little too harshly, especially noting how he had actually come clean with what he had done with that Anderson kid, and though he didn't like the way he put it, the one thought that kept raising its ugly head was, if the opportunity had arisen, would he had done any differently?

He was forced to conclude, that for him it was more about Billy's timing and his poor choice of wording that just happened to coincide with what he had decided to reveal to Billy about himself that had driven him to near panic and caused his sudden choice to hide that part of himself away from his best friend again.

The more he thought about it, the more he realized, that Billy was just expressing himself in the same way most guys do, using the language and words they grew up hearing. It had never really bothered him before, the guys on their wrestling team and indeed most of the jocks they knew talked like that, but he knew deep down, that Billy had never expressed any kind of hatred for anyone, and what convinced him most of all, was the fact that Billy had actually admitted to having had enjoyed receiving oral sex from another guy.

"Time and perspective," Baxter thought to himself as he finished unpacking his clothes from his rucksack, that is what had convinced him to extend that olive branch to Billy this morning via means of a birthday video.

Baxter had come to the conclusion, that he owed it to Billy to do as he had originally intended, and that was to tell him how he truly felt about him, if that ruined their friendship, at least he'd know he had been honest to both Billy and himself. He had also realized that there was another person he needed to tell and he had spent their long trip home trying to think when would be the best time and the best way to broach the subject with her and deciding that the first person to know should be the one person it concerned the most, other than himself.

After putting away most of his clothes and unpacking the various things he had accumulated during their vacation, not least of which was the birthday present he bought for Billy, that he went looking for his Mom to see if she needed any help with anything and finding her in the kitchen staring into the open frig: "It seems we should have thought to stop on our way through town and picked up something to eat." his Mom mused.

As if on cue, Baxter's stomach rumbled at the mere mention of food. They hadn't eaten since lunch at his Grandparents and the four hour trip from there to home, later in the afternoon, had left them both now feeling more than a little peckish, but not energetic enough to do a grocery run down at the local Piggly Wiggly, which was probably closed since it was already about 9:30 PM.

Baxter watched as his Mom reached for her purse on the island counter and handed him a couple of twenties and her car keys: "While I finish unpacking why don't you make a run to the BK and get us something to tide us over until tomorrow Mr. Whitmore." His mother said jovially.

"Sounds like a plan to me" Baxter retorted, adding with a rapacious smile: "I could lay waste to a couple of whoppers right now!"

As Baxter opened and began to step through the garage door located right through the laundry room, he heard his Mom shout after him: "Baxter, on your way there, would you mind stopping at Miriam's and picking up my office keys, I should probably stop by work tomorrow morning and check on things before we go grocery shopping."

Baxter gave her the usual "will do" and was pulling out of their driveway when the rain started pouring it down and the sky filled with the flash of lightning.

It was one of those typical rapid summer blow overs, a whole lot of sound and fury and torrential rain for about ten minutes but had mostly subsided except for a few straggling bright flashes of leftover heat lightning as he made the turn down the road that leads to Miriam Hollis's house.