Breaking Point

[Viridian]

Breaking Point
By Viridian

I only remember venturing into the girls’ toilets once. I was ten years old then, and it was meant to be a dare between the three of us. Those were the days – when there was nothing to worry about, and we could just be kids pretending that we were ‘all that’. Of course, we all chickened out of the bet, but it was Julian who made the move. He gave Tim a nod and they shoved me through the door. I stumbled and sprawled over the floor, surrounded by shrieks. I don’t remember much of what happened after that, only that it was Kimberley who finally got me out of there, who explained to the teachers what had happened. It was Julian who got into trouble.

Did people really hold grudges for that long? It didn’t feel right. We had been friends for over a decade. I knew the three of us were heading off into different directions. I wanted to go into an arts course; Tim was pushed into medicine and Julian into law. We’d swore we’d keep in touch once school was over and we finished college. It was a romantic idea, something I got from reading too many historical fiction novels, like Romance of the Three Kingdoms, where Liu Bei, Guan Yu and Zhang Fei swore under the peach blossom tree to become brothers and die in the same hour. Something about us becoming the leaders of tomorrow appealed to me. I’ve since learned that oaths can break resolve just the same as they can make it.

Here we were, at the end of the first leg of our journey. School was out. We had all passed and we were waiting for our acceptance into our chosen colleges. We all celebrated our 18th birthdays on the same day, and we all went on the end-of-year camp to celebrate the passing of our school years. Around fifty of us elected to go, including a handful of teachers. Some were class favourites, some weren’t. Was it Mr Grunson and his authoritarian manner that became the last straw? He had been our arch-enemy from day one. He never smiled and never waited for explanations. Ironically, he didn’t need an explanation for what was to come.

I was still struggling to come to terms with it. Everything seemed to be going well. Everyone was having fun. The teachers (except Mr Grunson) even turned a blind eye to the fact that we had smuggled weed into the camp, and that more than a few of us had snuck away from the cabins to get some action with the girls. It was unimaginable that it would come to this. Julian – yes, it was definitely Julian – who approached me first. He came at me with a look I had never seen before. At first I thought he was stoned, but he was as alert as ever. He placed his hand on my shoulder and slammed me against the wall. What did he say? I was always a weak little shit. I was the weakest link. Either I was with him or against him. The rest was a blur. All I remember was that I left him in a pool of blood.

The toilets were located some distance away from the cabins. No one else had made it. I switched the lights off and sat in the corner. My head was throbbing, and my hands shook. Given how dangerous things were, I was surprised that I didn’t react to the person who walked in. I could’ve killed them with my bare hands. I’m glad that my brain still had something working.

“James?”

Ms Wilson. One of my favourite teachers, she taught literature and I had her for the last two years. She was always understanding, always willing to read my stories. She was also beautiful – and single, though she never flaunted her attractiveness to anyone, which unfortunately earned her the cocktease epithet amongst both girls and boys. But she was my friend. Her presence in this moment of darkness was enough to bring me to my senses.

“James,” she whispered softly. “We have to go. Something’s happened.”

“I know.”

She looked at me concernedly. “We don’t have much time, but if there’s something you need to tell me, tell me now.”

“It’s Julian.” Her confused look urged me to go on. I didn’t want to share the pain with her, but I knew I could trust her. Her soft face comforted me. Things were becoming clear. “He’s out of his mind. I thought he was joking, but…he was serious. He brought everything here – the booze, the drugs. And knives. And guns. I saw them: at least two pistols. The others must’ve brought weapons as well. He knew I would refuse to join him, so he went for me first. I don’t know if he’s still alive, but he’s not the only one. Around five joined him, I think. They wanted to take over the camp. They wanted to give back everything they went through. That’s what he said.”

The crack of gunshots ripped through the still night. We looked at each other with urgency in our eyes. Ms Wilson took my hand, but I pulled her back. “No, we have to be cautious.” I paused, surprised at how commanding I sounded. “We could be next.”

My instincts proved accurate. We heard the crunch of someone running over the gravel towards the toilets. My hands formed fists as my blood started to rush through my tired body. I couldn’t focus my hearing enough to make out how many people were approaching us. I remembered Julian – someone was sure to have found him by now, which meant they were scouring the camp for me. If there were more than one of them, we’d be in trouble, especially if they were armed. I had to assume they were at least two, which meant we needed a distraction, but what? Something they could examine, to drop their guard. I remembered seeing this in a movie.

“Ms Wilson, could you take off your bra?”

“I’m not wearing one.”

I shot a glance at her. In hindsight it made sense. It was night time and she was dressed for bed, wearing only a pair of loose shorts, flip flops and tight green t-shirt. The cold air made her nipples noticeably visible and I picked out the slight sag and sway of her full, soft breasts as she moved. She gave me a dirty look to remind me that now was not the time. Turning from my distraction, I stood behind the corner, ready to leap onto our pursuer. My brief altercation with Julian taught me a lot. As soon as they came in, I had them pinned against the wall.

“No! Please!”

“Kim?”

I let her go. She was clearly shaken, and not from my pre-emptive attack. Her eyes began to adjust enough to make out our faces. “James? Ms Wilson?”

“What’s happening?” Ms Wilson asked, her voice taking on her normal teacher authority.

“It’s unbelievable. The boys kicked down the doors and rounded everyone up. They had guns and everything. Julian was there, and Tim, and a few others. They got all the teachers too. They’re in the dining hall right now. They started killing…oh god…” she sobbed.

“Who did they shoot?” I demanded.

“Mr…Mr Grunson. They put him in the middle of the hall. He didn’t try to fight back when they yelled at him and pointed their guns. He told them to shove it up their arses and that he’d see them in hell. Then they blew his head off.”

“Shit!”

“Why are they doing this?” Ms Wilson asked.

Kim was in no mood to talk. “I have to find my friends. There might still be people who escaped like you. I need to find them.”

“We need to work together,” Ms Wilson urged. “Listen, we can’t stop them...” She knew it was pointless to reason. Kim wouldn’t listen. She ran off by herself, leaving us alone again. Ms Wilson sighed and placed her head in her hands. “I can’t believe this is happening. How could they turn into monsters? They had so much to look forward to and they’ve done this!”

“We’ve all been through a lot,” I said, finding my body filling with anger. “It doesn’t take much to go past the point of no return.”

“That was in your story.”

“What?”

“That line. You wrote a story about a boy going through depression. He ended up killing his parents because he couldn’t take the pressure anymore. Was that what you were getting at?”

“I never imagined this would actually happen.”

“No one would want to.” Ms Wilson wiped the tears from her face. “It’s just you and me now. I don’t know if we can bring Kim to our side. We need to get out of the camp and get help. If we stay here, we’re going to die. I’m sure of it.” I agreed. “We’ve got an hour before the sun comes up. Grab whatever you can, and meet back here. We can make it if we stick together. I know we can. Just…don’t get caught, okay James?”

“I won’t, Ms Wilson.”

“And James…just call me Katie, alright darling?”

* * *

Katie. Something about the way she said her name made it feel…intimate. I’m pretty sure her name was Katherine, or Kate. I imagined a Katie would be someone younger, fresh. Come to think of it, Katie wasn’t that old – perhaps in her late 20’s at the very most. She was youthful in her appearance, though her face was distinctively more mature than the girls she taught. I guess when you’re 18, it’s easy to tell who is older than you. For now, age didn’t matter. I had to act like a man. Katie needed me. And I needed her.

We scrounged the camp for supplies before we slipped away. I risked heading back to my cabin, figuring that the mob in the dining hall wouldn’t think of returning to the beginning of their bloody revolt. I wished I hadn’t though. Blood was shed long before Mr Grunson was executed. Julian had planned the coup carefully. He eliminated anyone he knew couldn’t be trusted and would get in the way. Alex, Franklin and Yasin were all killed in their sleep; their bodies lying lifeless under their blood-stained sheets. Jackson was slumped over the table, his arms and face lacerated with knife cuts and suffering multiple stab wounds in the back; his struggle only ending after he bled to death. In the girls’ cabin, they had eliminated one student – Cassie, the ‘slut’ of the school. She was stripped naked and her face was badly swollen from the beating she received before having her windpipe cut. There was no sign of Kim. I grabbed two backpacks and met up with Katie. We didn’t have time to check our equipment. I filled her in on what I saw, and that was enough for us to get the hell out of Dodge just as the sun was coming up.

The morning was spent getting as much distance as we could from the camp. Our original plan was to follow the road. We knew there was a small town around 20 minutes away (by car; we had no idea how long it would take by foot). However, we also were aware of a caravan park that was located en route, which was closer. Neither of us had a map, so the roads were the safest bet. Unfortunately, that plan was dashed. We heard a motor vehicle coming up the road behind us. We turned to wave it down, but the alarm bells rang in my head. It was one of the school mini-buses. Katie’s eyes lit up, but I pulled her off the road. Julian’s gang had commandeered the school vehicles and was sending people ahead, possibly to search for us. I wasn’t sure if he was even still alive after our violent encounter, but I was very sure that our absence was noticed.

We scrambled off the road and cut through the foliage and into the woods. I glanced behind to see several students leap off the bus. I realised that most of them were probably late recruits – those who were spared by the gang and ‘persuaded’ to join. Katie and I barrelled down the slope, brushing aside bushes and branches. Katie was a fit person, but it was hard for her to run in sandals. Our surroundings became a blur. Finally, I spotted an opening ahead. The slope ended with a small stream that cut its way through the sandy bottom, forming small but steep ledges. Any obstacle was going to be useful in breaking the chase, and I indicated the stream to Katie. I leapt over the stream. Glancing down, I could see that the water had since dried, leaving a bottom of beige-coloured sediment. I had misjudged the distance and landed on the edge of the far ledge on a tuft of grass. Katie collided with me as she leapt and instinctively grabbed onto me for balance, but I had no foothold and the ledge disintegrated, sending us sliding down the muddy slope to the creek bed – which was very, very soft. It seemed to melt beneath us as soon as we made contact with it, forming distinct ripples as we struggled to get ourselves upright.

“Shit!” I hissed, seeing that we were stuck in the mud up to our thighs, not too concerned about swearing in front of my teacher. The sandy mud made gentle sucking noises as we eased into its soft grip – and didn’t stop.

“James, I think this is quicksand,” said Katie, watching the smooth sand swallow her bare legs until it lapped at the hem of her shorts. She shuddered as it went soaked through and wet up the leg holes.

We shrugged off our packs and pondered our next move. I didn’t know if we had lost our pursuers, and we were out of sight, but I wasn’t sure if hiding in quicksand was a tremendously good idea, especially if we had to get ourselves out somehow. As deep as we were, it would take us quite some time to get free…if we could. That was time we didn’t have. We were stuck in a section that had a steep banks; the top of which we could only reach if we were standing up. I looked at a bunch of gnarled roots sticking out above my head. I took off my t-shirt and beckoned to Katie to do the same. She glared at me, reminding me that she was wearing nothing underneath. The sand suddenly shifted and we sank to our waists. It was definitely not holding out weight. Katie immediately slipped off her shirt and passed it over. I had to suppress my stirring hormones as I witnessed what every student dreamed of. Her ample breasts were perfectly round in shape with large, pink nipples; accentuated by a layer of sweat. “If you tell anyone after we get out, I’m going to hunt you down and throw you back in,” she snapped, but her shaky voice betrayed her growing concern. Even the action of removing her top caused her to sink deeper. The soft sediment surrounded her toned waist and filled her bellybutton.

The shirts were too thin to snag onto the sharp roots, so I had to tear them down the sides to get enough length to form a lasso. Katie watched me quietly as I worked at securing our escape, her eyes looking idly at my moderately toned torso and arms. I grunted as I got hold of the thickest root. The quicksand’s suction was strong, but a few twists loosened the sand enough to kick my legs free. Katie whimpered as the ripples rolled around her ribs. The steep bank was even more slippery now that I was covered in mud. The weight of my soaked jeans made the climb even more difficult.

Katie had been patient up until now. She watched as I clambered over the top of the bank. The sandy creek bed had since lost its rough texture and was now a pit of smooth sediment. She looked nervously at the hungry sands, her breasts coming to rest on the surface until their weight forced the sand to mould around them, pushing them up until her erect nipples were consumed. “James, if you wouldn’t mind…” she said in a shaky whisper. By now I had recovered our shirts and threw the line to her. She grabbed it just as her breasts disappeared, the motion disturbing the remaining stability of the sand and turning it into a sea of mush. For a few horrifying seconds she kept on sinking until the sand rippled over her shoulders, but I was able to get to close enough to pull her up and out. Her heavy, sand-covered breasts emerged from the deadly trap, followed by the rest of her toned body. Her shorts, having filled up as she sank, were pulled off in the process, leaving her in a revealing black thong.

My head suddenly snapped back. Next thing I knew, I was sprawled over the ground with my face half-buried in the muddy bank. I could taste both dirt and blood in my mouth. I felt a sharp pain in my ribs. And another.

“You always were the weak one.”

Tim. The smallest of our trio, he now towered above me. He got the jump on me while I was busy rescuing Katie. In a sense, he was right. Julian’s dad taught him all he wanted to know about guns. Tim’s dad forced him to learn taekwondo – and not just the modern way of paying for belts, but training him by kicking a sandbag into it broke apart and chopping a block until he could no longer feel his hands. I remember a story of how he was jumped by several guys while walking home alone. He threw his keys into the face of his first assailant, delivered a snap kick that shattered the second’s knee and knocked the third out with a back kick. He probably hit me with that one while I wasn’t looking.

He kicked me again in the abdomen. “I’m surprised you had it in you to knife Julian. But, he didn’t have much going on between those ears. I just needed him for the supplies. And I needed your brains. It’s a pity you wimped out.”

“Leave him alone!” Katie’s voice rang out from somewhere. The quicksand! She had slipped back in when Tim kicked me away, and she was settling back down to her breasts. Tim turned his gaze to her, admiring her naked body as it slowly vanished into the sand once more.

“Ms Wilson, it’s truly a shame. You were one of the few good teachers. But, you’re like the rest. Naïve.’

“What are you talking about?” Katie demanded. “Please, help me!”

“I can’t do that, Ms Wilson. If I did, you’ll report me to the police. You’re one of them.” He spat in my direction. “Like every other teacher we killed. Mr Grunson, that bastard, especially him. I thought you could’ve been on our side, but Julian knew that you all stuck together. At least, by watching you sink to your death, I can safely say that I had no part in making it happen myself.”

Katie gasped. She couldn’t hide from his gaze; her arms spread out to steady herself in the unstable sand. The quicksand quivered around her heaving chest. “But…why?”

“I wanted to be an artist,” Tim said, dreamily. “I loved drawing. When I was young, I doodled birds. My dad took every drawing I made, ripped them up and burnt them. He told me that there was no place in society for people like me. I took up art in school to prove in wrong, but when I was interviewed for the scholarship, you know what they told me? The same fucking thing. How was I going to support my ill mother if I became an artist? No, if I wanted the scholarship, I had to pick the subjects they wanted me to. I had to do what others wanted – my dad, the school, the whole fucking world.

“Every day, I looked at my peers with scorn. They laughed. They had fun. They got to do what they wanted to do while I was stuck living out someone else’s dream. The only person who understood me was Julian. He wanted to show everyone what he was capable of doing, but no one let him. That’s how it came to this, Ms Wilson. If we can’t live out our dream, then no one does.”

“But you’ve got so much ahead of you!” Katie protested, now up to her shoulders.

“Bullshit. That’s just what everyone says. I’ve got nothing now, so I’m taking you all with me.”

I felt something stir. The pain went away. I managed to get onto my feet. Tim looked over at me and snarled. “What’s this? The weak shit has some spine after all! What are you going to do, teacher’s pet? Are you going to save your literature teacher?”

It’s true; I knew more about Shakespeare than I did about Bruce Lee. In my time I school I read countless plays and novels. I memorised the gut-thumping speeches that would bring out the lion in a man; the one-liners that would fit any cinematic moment. But in this moment, I could only spurt out one.

“Fuck you.”

It was a horribly lopsided fight. Tim had years of training and the technique to show for it. His kicks came in a flurry, targeting my torso. Every time I tried to close the distance, I felt another blow to my ribs. He probably cracked a few in the span of a few seconds. Then, I saw it coming. I knocked his foot away, but it was a feint. Around came his other foot, smacking against my ear. I crumpled to the ground, coughing blood. My hand closed over something. On my last legs, I stood up once more. I swung wildly at him. He grinned, amused at my wayward attack, but I had not intended to strike him with my fists. He barely caught a glimpse of the stone before it struck his temple. I tackled him to the ground and began beating away at his face. He stuck his hand out to push my face away. I clamped my jaw, tasting blood again. I felt around for the rock and I found it. I struck him, over and over again. The rush of adrenaline muted his screams of agony as each bit of his face was shredded and pounded. I didn’t even realise my own feral screams as I killed my best friend with my bare hands. I would’ve lost myself there and then had the one thing I had left not pierced my chaotic mind. I heard my name.

* * *

I could see myself – naked, in the woods, walking into a clearing. I didn’t feel the cold, but I could feel the ground melting away, the same as the quicksand we were trapped in. I sank, slowly, until I was up to my chest. I watched blankly at the quivering earth, feelings its cold grip against my bare skin, making no effort to free myself. I felt nothing. No energy, no will.

I heard a shout. Katie was coming across the clearing. She too was naked, and running in a slow-motion, Baywatch way. She reached the edge of the quicksand but didn’t stop, ploughing through the undulating bog. I yelled at her to keep away, but she kept on coming to me. She reached me and pulled me up until we were both up to our waists. I felt her warm body press against mine, and for that moment I didn’t care about our predicament. We sank together, my head pressed against her breasts. I knew she hadn’t thought of a way out herself.

The dream ended and I found myself in a hospital bed. Beside me was Katie. She was asleep, having found a niche to put her head over my shoulder and her arm was stretched across my chest. She was clothed again, though in the recesses of my perverted mind, I could tell she had not acquired a bra. I felt a slight stir in my nether regions – a painful experience, given that I had broken ribs and a concussion.

I couldn’t quite piece together what had happened. Over time, I would learn through police interviews and news reports of the extent of the camp massacre. Julian’s sexual abuse from his father was spotlighted, as was Tim’s family life and his own drug addiction. Tim was found dead at the dried creek; Julian had survived his stabbing but was now held in police custody, along with the other kids who joined him. Of the hostages, only Kim escaped alive. It was she who heard my screams, who called out to me. In the memory I had constructed, I thought she was the one who pulled Katie free and found help for us. But according to her, I was draped over the edge of the quicksand, hanging onto Katie as a human lifeline, holding on for so long that I had torn my triceps and pectoral. They found a place to shelter me and Katie watched over me, tending to my wound with the supplies we scavenged while Kim sought assistance.

I felt Katie stir. Her eyes flickered open, too weary to show elation at my recovery. I struggled to smile. The pain my in head prevented me from thinking. “Ms Wilson?” I managed to say, albeit with a heavy slur. Katie returned a smile. She slipped her hand across the rest of my body and gave me a squeeze. Even though my ribs killed, I didn’t want her to let go of me. She began to sob. I brushed her blonde hair, though that took up all of my energy. I tried to comfort her, but I could hardly speak. “Ms Wilson,” I croaked again. She sniffed and wiped her tears before looking me once more in the eye, and smiled. “Call me Katie, darling.”

[PM2K]

Excellent story!

[klib21]

I liked the excellent descriptions of the quicksand, and the story is very well written... but I still don't understand how/why people would go completely homicidal in the blink of an eye. Julian and Tim, sure, but every one of the other attackers? Surely not every one of the killers were perfect homicidal maniacs.

[Viridian]

They weren't necessarily so. The plot doesn't specify who carried out the executions. In situations like this, it's often one or two "ringleaders" with the rest being affected by the bystander effect. Also, Stockholm syndrome. Besides, given the perspective of the narrator, there would no doubt be others who have causes and triggers but aren't named. I was largely influenced by Battle Royale for this story.

[jadokast98]

Very nice story! I love Romance quicksand short stories,

I'm reminded of "Paetra's Shoe Fetish" where the bad guys "comandeered" a guys property. He fought back by rescuing Paetra and testifiying at the trial. I only had it there to provide closure as the sinking part was well over. You had encorporated it into the drama; I liked it. The fading into and out of consiousness was realistic. One of my favs!!!

[Viridian]

Thanks jadokast. "Saving Isis" remains one of my favourite stories by you.

[jadokast98]

Thanks jadokast. "Saving Isis" remains one of my favourite stories by you.

tyvm! I "recovered" a good portion of it on the computer I brought w/ me to Kandahar and shared the story w/ a Soldier. She does like to write, but felt a writer's block coming up. I let her read the story. Unfortunately the story is not complete; Isis was backing up... and that's it. So... I did not have to "explain" anything. "Yea, something happens, we call in an Extract, we shoot AK's and that's about it." <<you lieing sack of shit>>

I'm going to work on a StarWars fan fiction. I work on becoming a bounty hunter. Boba Fett has several cameos. It's going to be a long deployment.

Check in your in-box. There is a story I started in spring.