KIDEATERS Vs. Zoo BoyZ unedited
Meeting Mission Command
Now our boys are a year older than they were when they went to Zoo Island (editorial note for blog place link to Zoo BoyZ here). And they are 2 years older than when they broke into The Forever Happy Amusement Park (editorial note for blog insert link to The Park), although John did not commit that crime with the other three.
When you are 15, 14, 13, and 12 you naturally jump between all kinds of different factors from without as well as from within. Those years are arguably the most developmental years of everyone’s lives. It was no different for our boys. We find them suddenly going through some brutal progressive
changes: hormonally, physically, emotionally, morally, even financially, while also being forced into invading the foreign soil of Zoo Island. This was no world war, no Vietnam or Pearl Harbour, but to these four children it was as serious as any other, full on military invasion. The strategic situation they found themselves in now was as complicated, confusing and combative as they had only witnessed through motion pictures released from Hollywood. Hanson wasn’t just unleashing the boys from jail he was also plunging them into what could be a suicide mission.
Mr. John Hanson was gracious enough to not send the boys alone, although after hearing their testimony and how they outwitted his octopus on their last visit to Zoo Island, he was confident they would do a better job than his own professional scouts, survivalist, animal tamers, and biologists.
As planned, the boys were transported under extremely high security measures, as if they were linked to part of some major mob or one of the organized criminal empires. Shackled, not only on their wrists but on their ankles as well. They even had black hoods placed over their heads to keep their final destination confidential.
When they arrived at the secret location of John Hanson’s underground layer they were drug out of the black suburban SUV and forced to their knees. It was there, in a position only an assassination would use, they were released from their bonds. Each boy greatly appreciated being uncuffed,finally, and the feeling of being set free for the first time in a year.
One of Hanson’s assigned henchmen rapidly pulled the hoods off their heads. It was almost like a dream, almost too hard to believe, almost incomprehensible. The reality was that they were still captives, still convicts, still restricted from being able to go home and live out an average, normal, life, like any other boy their age. Most teenagers were over concerned about the pimples and blemishes on their face. Many teenagers were right acme, growing pains, and broken hearts from crushed that wanted nothing to do with them; but right here, right now, these 4 young men were only beginning to discern the blasphemous, immoral principles they were forced to face. They had no idea how deep seeded John Hanson’s plot ran.
Still on their knees, side by side, in a parking lot, the smell of fresh air and wind hitting their face gave some ease to their minds. Their adolescent eyes were still trying to adjust to the sudden brightness. The transition took much longer than they desired. In the distance they could only make out a slender silhouette, a vertical line. Soon they realized it was a tall thin figure coming toward them. Their minds rapidly fired images from several sci-fi movies they caught by sneaking into the local movie theater. Any ease they were offered didn’t last nearly long enough. Within seconds the creature was standing right infront of them. Too close for comfort. This wasn’t the first over authoritative obstacle they met, however, there was something even more… what is the word? Something like… a dominatrix, strangely taboo but also enticing. There was a hint of allure and almost a strange sense of sexual gratification in nature. Although they couldn’t put their finger on it they knew it was some type of tempress. “It” was their assigned chaperone and guardian. Another grinding voice shouted at the boys,
“THIS IS HIGHTOWER!!! YOUR NEW MASTER!!!”
The unusually tall figure blocked out the sunlight. That alone gave their eyes an opportunity to recover but made their palms become sweaty, like clams grasping a grain of sand.
Back home the Parents worry about their children’s safety but in THIS situation, destination unknown, the boys feared for their own security.
“Get up boys! Come with me!”
They were being led but also had armed officers behind them. Dave whispered to his partners,
“I think he’s really a woman.”
The other three noticed the whisper went unnoticed by their captures so Jeremy spoke next, a little softer than Dave. As he let out his words with a soft breath only his friends heard him state,
“Shhhh…she just dresses like a man.”
Ronnie’s words were almost too low to hear,
“Ah, so?! So do I! But, ya think he ahh..sshhhhe is a good leader?”
John said softly,
“I guess we’ll find out.”
He swallowed hard as Dave spoke again. Hardly even a whisper anymore he announced to his friends,
“Dogs, shhhe ain’t leading shhhit. We leadin’ her. That is the whole point. The whole purpose. We gonna lead this operation. Their boss picked us.”
Sometimes to see the best you gotta understand the worse. Others would claim Dave always stuck out like a sore thumb but the truth was that Dave was the healed finger in the bunch. So many teens his age were like black and blue or paralyzed appendages, not functioning well at all. Dave had such a hard upbringing that he was willing to take on dangerous tasks others never dreamed of addressing. Often Dave’s careless, fearless demeaner came across as idiotic, foolish, and even cocky when in reality the fact of the matter was he was raised to endure, survive, overcome, and conquer whatever was thrown at him.
Jeremy’s voice remained soft and timid,
“Bu, but we’ll need their co…cooper…ah…ation.”
His words were warped and hard for him to form. John shrugged his shoulders. Trying to shake off the doubt and the unmistakable, uneasy, feeling surrounding him. He knew nothing was within their control. His voice was just under a hush,
“Guys, like I said, I guess we’ll see. We better stay quiet.”
Although he told his friends to remain silent he himself went on talking,
“Oh, also by the way Ronnie, this is an opportunity to take Tina back, bet she misses her family and ya know if you get caught with her here, just like if you would have got caught with her while we were in jail we’d be dead.”
Tina was an extremely tiny tiger, smaller than Ronnie’s pinky finger. He took her from the island on their last trip there, masking his secret for a full year. She still hadn’t grown and was very calm in the darkest recesses of his pocket. His brain entertained what John said. He knew if an adult discovered her they’d take her, do scientific experiments on her, and throw him and his friends in solitary confinement. Ronnie’s mouth opened. Unknowingly he released his thoughts,
“Yeah, who knows what they’ll do to poor Tina. I gotta get her back.”
Ron was hurt and sad but if he would be honest with himself he knew John right. He fought with the fact that even if he took her back to her original home she’d still be taken away. Part of their chore was to capture animals there and put them into the hands of, well, of who knows who.
Jeremy put his hand on Ronnie’s shoulder. He reassured him,
“Dude, it sucks! I know, but, it is time to take her back. Return her home where she belongs. She belongs to her mother.”
He heard his own words then added,
“So do we. This is mucked up man.”
Without putting his hand in the pocket containing his secret pet, for fear their captors would think he was pulling out a weapon, Ronnie just gave it a soft, delicate, pat. His 3 friends admired how Tina was so small Ronnie never got caught with her. Even when they thoroughly searched him while being booked, or admitted, let alone when they left. For other searches while in jail Ronnie always hid her in places the guards never checked.
As Sargent Sladder
was turning the boys over to Hightower he yelled with his hard “A”, North Eastern, accent,
“Don’t disreGOD any instrAhctions yous guys Ah toad! Just do as yous AH TOAD!”
Dave spoke up, using his full on out door voice, he demanded,
“Where ya taken us now??!!”
Sladder’s answer came back with even more volocity,
“THAT IS ON A NEED TO KNOW BASES!!! AND YOU DON’T NEED TO KNOW!!!”
Sladder nodded to Hightower. He added,
“This tAss fours gonna tac ovAh!”
Sladder was referring to
their chaperone, this new task force taking over. The fully armed adult stepped toward as Sarg. Sladder and the other armed minions retreated. The name Hightower perfectly fit the physical description of this new character. The boys dwarfed in size while this high towering tyrant stood directly in front of them. The kid’s emotions and mental status shrunk as well when the,
supposed guardian, spoke with a tone just as harsh and cold as Sladder. In Spite of this, at the same time the voice somehow carried a form of reassurance, almost like a parent giving loving discipline. Direction and instructions flowed out of the mouth of this new forerunner. Out of the sea of jargon 1 key word stood out to the boys. That specific word was,
Their minds were full of questions but without asking they knew the answer for everything was going to be that same word,
“Classified ! ! !”
Classified rang in their heads over and over
again and again. The reply for every single question and request was going to be the same during the time they served here. They could clearly imagine it being taken to the extreme,
“Can I go to bathroom?”
“Where is the bathroom?”
“Can I please have some toilet paper?”
“Will you please let me wipe my ass?”
They knew, without even asking, this hard nosed adult would chant and the boys would soon join in unison,
“Classified, classified, CLASS IF IED!!!”
The boy’s eyes were fix on Hightower, not only because they were coherst to. They took mental notes of sleek curves indicative of the female anatomy. Past the strong willed voice, beyond the utility belt and bullet proof vest the young men’s minds uncovered and revealed to them Hightower’s figure. Masculine? Yes.
Brawny? No question.
Stern stance? No doubt! But time after time with a few hip thrust and sideview glances the hormonally fueled juveniles unveiled the undeniable fact that Hightower was definitely a full grown, completely developed woman. She was exposed. As she addressed them they couldn’t help but to continually try to undress her with their minds. Her voice was loud, concret, and demanding; and yet every so often it cracked into a higher range than most men the boys knew. They absorbed her words as she spoke to them,
I am MAJOR Hightower. You call me Major!”
The boys thought, we got major problems here.
Before the boys were released from jail they met with Hanson’s staff in a pre-briefing meeting. That was a complete turn off, unbearable boring. It was a lot like being in school. Now they were about to undergo some hands-on training.
From somewhere inside themselves they felt a surge of excitement and unbridled energy. They studied her motions as Major Hightower displayed some weapons and certain specific tools of the trade. Occasionally their thoughts would divert to what was actually being demonstrated, like when she shot out an net launcher onto a fairly nearby taxidermied bear. They expressed somewhat of a gasp but their eyes and thought flow quickly recovered focus on who was teaching them, not what was being taught. She seemed to be taunting them by bending at the pelvis rather than at her knees. David noticed a weakness in his own knees, one that he had never experienced before. Ron thought back to some of the stories he wrote that involved a beautiful model seducing the special agent. He got a certain thrill when describing those characters and their actions. What he wrote formulated beautiful fantasys in his mind. Jeremy remembered a sports illustrated swimsuit edition being past among classmates. Before that the original hint of arousal that accompanied looking at females he discovered by looking at his mom’s J.C. Penny’s catalogue, the women’s undergarments section. Not too long ago, before all this, Dave found his dad’s girly mag.s under a mattress. He mixed what he saw in front of him now with the adult images he took mental pictures of back then. John, being the oldest and being an artist, checked out the natural, anatomically correct, well formed, defined structure of the female’s body. He marveled at the proper,
perfect, placement and proportioned curves. For him human sexuality had not been perverted yet. He was aroused by photographs and paintings he viewed in several art Museums he was fortunate enough to visit. He blushed as he passed by certain provocative exhibits and tried to take a quick glance when passing by, his hope was that no one else noticed he was looking. The boy’s sex drive was preventing them from hearing important details and drills. Ms. Hightower held their attention without diversion but for all the wrong reasons.
What Major Hightower was explaining was the safety instructions needed when using the equipment they were taking with them to Zoo Island. The young adults she was tutoring assumed they already knew how to fire a gun, after all they had seen it done in so many high impact, action movies. That was more fantasy than reality but it was all taken for granted. Ron’s fantasy of Hightower taking advantage of him were interrupted by an extremely deafening explosion. The other 3 were reeled in as they gasped for air. The Major shouted,
“AS I SAID, COVER YOUR EARS BEFORE SOMEONE FIRES THE FLASH BANG!!! YOU ALL NEED TO FOLLOW MY INSTRUCTIONS AND DIRECTIONS!!!”
DO YOU HEAR ME?!! ARE YOU FOLLOWING ME?!!
The youngsters were willing to follow this figure anywhere. She repeated herself,
“CAAAN YOOOU HEEEAR MEEEE!?!?”
They nodded in reply. Their Major continued in a shout,
“CHILDREN, IT IS A MATTER OF LIFE OR DEATH!!!
John, although the oldest, was the first to realize he was way too young to be romantically involved with his teacher in any way, form, or fashion. As the ringing in their adolescent ears was dissipating, the officer reached for the next piece of artillery. Dave’s eyes moved off of her and toward the ridiculously large gun she grasped with both hands. Her voice pulled Ron’s imagination back into the current situation. They heard the words,
“SOME MAY HAVE SHARP TEETH AND A FEROCIOUS APPETITE TO FEED, AND OR FIGHT! NOT RETREAT!!! THEY WANNA EAT ANYTHING THAT IS AVAILABLE, LIKE AN AFTERNOON TREAT. YOU WOULD BE LIKE AN AFTERNOON DELIGHT FOR THEM.”
Jeremy, without thinking said,
“All the better to eat you with.”
Ronnie nodded in fear.
“Just let them try.”
Hightower didn’t hear him. Even their nonverbal responses made her feel like she finally had their attention on the content being covered rather than on the way she was sexually created. Her demands were made clear,
“You could end up hurting yourself, or worse, hurting one of your platoon members. This ain’t no joke boys. Any of you ever fire a real gun?”
Her students didn’t want to admit it. She took their silent response as a hard no.
As she picked up and flung another riffle around she pointed out the safety switch. She also showed them another button that, when pushed in, drops the cartridge holding the magazine of bullets. She confirmed,
“If you push that rather than flipping the safety switch off you’ll not only not be ready to fire, you’ll instantly be out of ammo. We must:
(She crouched down. Then went flat onto her belly).
(She closed one eye and pressed her opened one onto the scope above the barrel)
Confirm what we are aiming at!
(Her eye still fixed within the scope connected to the gun)
ONLY THEN DO WE (Her voice lowered in volume)
Release the safety.
(Her trigger finger slid down slowly to move the switch ever so gently and soft.They noticed she took a deep breath and held it in. They were memorized as they observed her finger move back to the trigger).
(John covered his ears and looked at his friends. All but Dave moved their hands to muffle their own ears. They heard a quick and almost quiet
PLATTY PLATT TAT TAT!
“Well that was underwhelming.”
Major Hightower argued,
“Not every assault is loud. Some are almost silent but this one serves its purpose.”
They watched her saunter over to the big stuffed bear. Ronnie said,
“It did nothing.”
She bent at her knees as she grasped the bear to turn it around. The side they had not seen yet was in ribbons.
ratty tat tat does that?”
His new hero answered,
“We call them barbed bullets. They go in, hardly leaving a trace but after passing through the victim they grab vital organs and splatter them across any and everything beyond your target. You can kill several things with one shot. When you aim take note of what is behind where your aiming because these projectiles will hit well past where you intended.”
John raised his hand. She nodded. He formulated his question,
“Well we, I mean you, plan on like… killing the animals?”
Before she answered she looked around as if not wanting anyone to hear her. As far as the boys knew they were there alone with her. This was the first time their director was really soft spoken,
“Some of them.”
She crouched again and let out a grunt as she moved the bear back around,
“Aaand ifff weeee…”
Her grunts continued as her body gyrated to move the bear.
“…yeah, yes! Yes, If we are in danger, if any of them resist our attempts to capture them, putting us in harm’s way, we will kill. I say we because you may have to pull that trigger too.”
The severity of the situation was kicking in. This wasn’t just playing war in the woods with plastic toy guns.
She stood erect once again, towering over the well stuffed grizzly bear. She admired how she had the boy undivided attention. She knew she had to give some credit to her gender. Just being the oposite sex caused the boys fixation. She spoke with such confidence and clarity,
“When Mr. Hanson first offered me this job I refused it. My indifference with this training, with this whole mission, is that you children shouldn’t even be old enough to hold, let alone handle any type of tactical weapons. These are not b.b. guns you begged your mama to buy you for Christmas. They aren’t like a paint gun that are virtually harmless unless you get hit in the eye! However, we do have some less lethal munitions. I want to see how you kids handle some of the armament that fire less lethal ammo. You…”
She pointed to Ronnie.
He felt the blood rush to his face then back out again. He shivered as he answered, pointing to himself with one hand and placing his other hand over the pocket containing his pet.
“YES YOU! Come up here to my table.”
His friend wondered why she picked the youngest and smallest of them all first. Ronnie took small unesertive steps toward her. She picked up one of the bulky firearms then continued,
“This one shoots less lethal artillery. Notice I did not say it is non-leathal or that it is NOT lethal!”
Although Ron was now up there with her she addressed all 4 boys.
“Even a taser can be lethal if used the right way, or the wrong way, depending on your mission or what you’re trying to accomplish.”
David’s eyes moved over toward the cattle prodding taser on the table. He remembered that instrument from their last trip to Zoo Island. She handed the gun to Ronnie as she reached for an identical one that was sitting on the long table full of all kinds of gadgets, devices, and hunting type gear. Ronnie took the one she gave him and he marveled at how heavy it was. He pointed it toward the ground and kept his fingers away from the trigger. Hightower spoke,
“Mine looks like yours doesn’t it?”
Without warning she took quick aim and fired it at a wall, putting a hole right through the concrete block.
“Now you shoot the one you have.”
Ronnie slowly raised the gun. He tried to remember the prior instructions. He held it in the direction of the wall, put his finger in the trigger, and squeezed it. Nothing happen. Hightower asked softly,
“Did you remove the safety?”
He slid his finger down, searching for the button he saw the Major click. It wasn’t there. Major Hightower took a deep breath trying to be patient. She formed her words as gentle as she could possibly muster,
“Are you left handed?”
Ronnie didn’t answer. She prodded,
“What hand do you write with?”
“Mmm my left??”
He didn’t mean for it to come out as a question. He knew he was left-handed. She nurtured him,
“So, let your trigger finger be your left index finger.”
Ronnie shifted the gun into his dominant hand. He still didn’t see a safety switch near the trigger. It took everything in Hightower not to become completely exasperated. They heard her take another deep breath then explain,
“Okay. So. The safety is going to be a little tricky because it is on the other side of the trigger. If you were right handed it would be located on the right side but…”
She took another deep long breath in.
“But you’ll have too…. Oh here jis’ give it to me!!! Point toward the ground and hand it to me!”
Ronnie felt like a coward. John feared he’d have the same issue. He was left-handed too. He asked his own mind,
“Guns are made for right handers only?”
He had no answer.
Hightower sat hers on the table and tried holding his with her left hand. As she fumbled trying to demonstrate properly she enquired,
“How many of you are also left handed?”
John slowly inched his left hand from close to his body up and into the air. He looked at his friends and defensively proclaimed,
“What? I was born this way.”
Although still in fear Ronnie confirmed,
“Yeah! Me toooo.”
“Well, I read a background profile on you four kids but it didn’t state two out of four were Southpaws! That would have been helpful. All these guns are for right handers! I didn’t bring any that are especially made for the opposite handlers. So Lefties, you’ll have to use your right hand to release the safety, then aim, then pull the trigger with your left hand.”
She handed the gun back to Ronnie. He didn’t want to take it but felt forced to.
“Careful now! The safety IS still on so look on the right side of the riffle. See the little round button next to the trigger?”
Ronnie turned the gun sideways. As he did he unknowingly pointed it in the direction of the instructor and his friends. The Major’s shout startled him so bad he almost dropped it. The friends and Hightower instinctively ducked. She barked,
WOE! NO! NO! NEVER POINT IT AROUND. POINT DOWN… BUT NOT AT YOUR OWN FEET EITHER!”
Ronnie felt so defeated then he became angry at himself. She reminded herself that her audience were just children, babes. She noticed his timid, unconfident, demeanor. She knew she wouldn’t be able to help them if she shot down what little self confidence they had. Ronnie begged,
“Can you just let David do it first so I can see?”
Ms. Hightower insisted,
“No, no you’re all gonna get a chance. All 4 of you need to learn, even if it is just the basics.”
Ronnie whispered to himself,
“I don’t wanna chance.”
Major Hightower went around Ronnie and approached him from behind. Davis smirked. John and Jeremy were thinking the same exact thing,
“She’s gonna hug him from behind !”
She did just that. Ronnie felt her warm inner arms against his. She crouched down a bit, arms around his, crotch pressed tight to his butt. Ronnie felt drops of sweat trickle from his underarms. He became light headed as he noted her breath moving through the hair on his head. Then her cheek touched the hair on the back of his neck, making him shiver a little. The hair on his arms stood up at attention. She spoke soft and gentle,
She grabbed his right hand and moved it toward the safety button. Ronnie was turning into jello. Still at a whisper she guided him,
“Push this button, the safety, now then… put your left hand on the trigger. So, you’ll have to take the safety off then take aim. Normally we would aim first and confirm our target but… it’s okay.”
Her left hand cupped his left hand. She placed her finger on top of his. As simple as this gesture was, it was something Ronnie had never experienced.
“Now breathe in… hold your breath… aaand gently squeeze.”
She forced his finger to fire. The bullet shot out with tremendous force, causing Ronnie to be thrusted back a little, pressing him into Ms. Hightower even more. The bullet bounced off the concrete wall. The boys thought Ronnie did something wrong. Ronnie’s vision was still a bit blurred from having one eye closed too long. He blinked trying to get his full vision back. He was able to see a black streak flying through the air. He was sure he hit something. Whatever it was must have been blown to pieces and that was one of those fragments.
Dave shouted. Ms. Hightower confirmed,
“That’s affirmative. This one is loaded with rubber bullets. Less lethal than the ammo I have in the gun I fired first. Pay attention because some guns can hold real bullets as well as less lethal bullets, like that one.”
She pointed to the bullet that flew off the wall and onto the ground closer to where they stood. John wondered if being shot with a rubber bullet still hurt. Jeremy wondered what it felt like to be hugged from behind by a woman. Dave asked,
“Can those bullets also kill something?”
“Only if hit in the right place or if it is a very frail creature, like some birds. However, these and the bean bag launchers are more of a deterrent than something you are shooting at to kill. Some animals just get more angry if you sting them with these.”
Ronnie shook his head trying to transition from fantasy and get back into reality. Jeremy raised his hands and blurted out,
“I wanna be next! Please?!”
Their mentor had so much to cover and only a day to cover it. She knew she’d have to give an extremely brief summary of the equipment and leave out somethings that she could not trust the boys to use at all. As she went along she emphasized which instruments they were forbidden to even look at for any length of time, let alone lay a finger on.
She covered the difference between gas grenade launchers and smoke bombs they would throw by hand. She covered how to wear a gas mask, how to apply camo makeup, and wildlife containment devices (just a fancy name for a cow proder) that was the long staff with the taser prongs on the end. That was the same kind they saw that lunatic Robinson carrying on their last exit from Zoo Island. The boys had no trouble recalling when Dave handled the one given to him as they made their way back out of Zoo Island, no longer accompanied by that Crusoe character. It was even the same brand as the one Dave surrendered when the rescue helicopter showed up.
This new training in services gave the kids the confidence they needed to begin this major undertaking. They knew more than Major Hightower when it came to what life was really like on Zoo Island but she knew more about tactics and would be packing the fire power needed to back them up. She got them as
prepped and ready to go as she could but they knew there was a need for more than Army Navy schemes and streams. It was going to take an actual army to win this battle and they really needed some of the scientists who bred the creatures to begin with; however, they had none of that at their disposal. To decode the islands secrets behind the habitats dwelling there was no small task. Both great and small creatures were going to be almost impossible to round up, coral, and get into crates or cages then get them onto a ships, or aircraft and eventually onto trucks waiting on the mainland.
After a full day of rigorous training they finally stopped everything so they could have dinner. Although their bodies stopped their minds were still racing and trying to comprehend all the information and details that were thrown at them. They felt as if they were trying to drink water from a fire hydrant. In between bites Dave let out what he had been trying to hold in since they were delivered to this place. He blurted out,
“Um Major, so let’s meet the crew and get on with this classified excursions.”
Major Hightower proclaimed,
“HAH! Crew? My dear boy, HA HA! You are the crew, you 4 and me. That’s it, and I’m all you really need.” John thought how much that sounded like something Dave would say.
To Ch. 7 “To The Zoo” (https://tombeetlebailey.wordpress.com/2021/08/28/kideaters-ch-7-unedited/)