Chapter 5

He'd been up against guns before, and worse things. With a valiant effort Derek turned to face the door, remembering that the wood was old and probably rotten. He lifted one powerful foot and smashed against the door near the handle, breaking a sizable hole in the door.

Derek's hand was through the hole and drawing the bolt open. Behind him he heard a gunshot, and someone shouting "Call the police!" The gun was still too far away to do any damage to Derek, and so were the police. But he couldn't afford to waste time.

Derek pushed the door open, nearly falling into the room. Inside he saw the four schoolgirls, Jenny and Andrea and Diane and Kathy, gagged and in chains. He also saw Cynthia and the ever-sadistic Craig busily engaged in tormenting them in a rather ingenious way. If Derek hadn't been in such a hurry he would have admired their handiwork.

But there wasn't time.

"CRAIG!" he roared. "They're after us! Let's GO!"

A normal man might not have gotten the full import of those words, or if he had gotten it might be too surprised to act upon them. But Craig Bentley, along with his partner Derek, was accustomed to taking frequent powders on only a moment's notice. Craig dropped the instrument of torture he was holding and made a dash for the door.

In his anger and despair, Derek saw Cynthia as a substitute for the Felicia he hated, the girl he wanted to kill. If he couldn't have Felicia then this girl would do just as well.

"Craig!" he shouted again. "Wait a minute! We're taking this girl with us!"

Cynthia saw what Derek was up to, and as he snatched at her she tried to hit him. But he had her firmly by the dress, and as she turned to run from his grasp the garment tore, leaving Derek holding an empty dress and a frightened Cynthia running across the shed in her bra and panties.

Craig still had possession of his thought processes, even if Derek didn't. With a leap he was on top of the girl, a swift karate chop to her neck knocking her temporarily senseless. Still gripping her firmly, Craig searched through the suitcase filled with dildos and cattle prods and chains and shackles and manacles until he found what he wanted: a pair of handcuffs. In a moment he had the steel bands on her slim wrists, and then he was pushing her towards the door. "Come on, Derek! Let's hit the road!"

The two men dashed out of the shed, pushing their screaming, half undressed young hostage before them. The bloodthirsty teachers and students were only ten feet away now, and both men knew from experience that the police would not be far behind. Fortunately, it was a rural area, and there were no city police, only county and state ones, and that meant it would take a little longer before the cops showed up. And every second would count.

The onrushing horde of teachers hesitsted for one second as they saw that the girl in bra, panties and handcuffs was a hostage, but after that one second they pressed forward again. The man with the gun was holding it inches from Derek's skull. Why the hell hadn't the guy fired it yet?

Derek lashed out with both fists at once, one hand decking the man, the other making a grab for the pistol. The gun fired once, into the air, as the man fell. Then Derek stepped on the man's face, and the gun was his.

It was the work of a moment to press the gun barrel into the small of Cynthia's back, two inches from the strap of her tight white bra. Together Derek and Craig carried their hostage through the crowd. None dared resist them. Nearby was a car, and they pushed the screaming girl towards it.

There was no key in the ignition.

Derek turned to face the crowd. "Who has the keys to this car?"

No one answered. He dug the revolver deeper into Cynthia's bare flesh, until she moaned in pain. "You heard me: who has the keys?"

There was a brief pause, and then one of the male teachers dug into his pocket and pulled out a ring of keys. He tossed it through the air towards Derek's face.

Derek leaned forward and caught the keys with both hands, and then he realized what a terrible thing he'd done: in catching the keys, he'd dropped the revolver!

The crowd saw it too, and now they were pressing forward again. Cursing himself for his own stupidity, Derek grabbed Cynthia by the tits and pushed her into the back seat, pushing Craig in on top of her. As he pushed the key into the ignition he saw that the crowd was inches away from the car now. Craig had had the sense to slam both doors in the crowd's collective face. But now the car was surrounded with screaming people. How could Derek start the car and drive out of here if the people wouldn't let them move?

Hoping against hope, Derek turned the key in the ignition.

There was a loud bang, and for a moment Derek thought someone had found the revolver and shot him. Then he realized that the car's ancient motor had backfired. But the crowd, mistaking the bang for a gunshot just like he did, had fallen back and out of the way, trying to dodge the bullet.

A moment later Derek and Craig were roaring down the road, a voluptuous handcuffed hostage in the back seat.