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"Le cheemo’!" yells a freckled toddler with curly, ginger hair pointing in the direction of the seagulls flying in circles under a cloudy, morning sky.
"Je'el pixamech, ya'ab chéem nukuch..." whispers the young, indigenous mother rocking the nude three-year-old in her arms, consoling him. She has a long, black braid that reaches her butt, geometric tattoos all over her body, and walks barefoot on the side of the avenue just as naked as her child except for a cambaya satchel carrying their few possessions around her back.
"Le cheemo’!" repeats the boy excited pointing at an old street sign signaling a fork in the road ahead. He moves restless in her mother’s arms as they walk past the split on the road which goes along a massive seawall spreading into the horizon, taking potential commuters through a wavy, mile-long journey across the staggered ocean.
"Le cheemo’…" repeats the boy desolate as he’s carried past the intersection and into a nearby commercial street littered with trash and hungover tourists from a big celebration the previous night.
The naked woman keeps rocking the toddler, trying to keep him quiet as they walk past silent restaurants, patios, and food stands where machines try to clean the mess while sleepy tourists eat breakfast still dressed or body painted in the red, blue, and white motifs from the elaborate parties and orgies they stumbled out of just a couple hours prior.
"Señor, would you help me and my boy?" mutters the indigenous woman in a droning, rehearsed voice wiggling the bottom half of a water bottle like a charity cup to a father-son duo hunched over a Coca-Cola metal table eating tacos.
The middle-aged father and his teenage son shake their heads, trying to be polite. She nods and lowers the plastic cup before walking to the next one.
"Le cheemo’..." grumbles the three-year-old looking wistfully at the street signs pointing the way towards the seawall.
"Shhh..." whispers his mother wiggling her plastic cup at another group of hungover tourists outside a small café swarmed by waitress drones bringing their plates. They pretend to not notice her and she walks to the next table, a group of five teenagers with confetti still stuck to their heads and sleepy eyes sitting around a round table waiting for the drones to refill their mugs.
"Señoritas. Can you help me?" repeats the tattooed mother shaking her sliced water bottle at the sleep-deprived youngsters. They glance at the immigrant woman and shake their heads, unable or unwilling to aid her. She nods and walks to the next one.
Yet one of the girls in the table, a Latin teen with glasses, long black hair and an old grey t-shirt scribbled with handwritten notes turns on her seat, as if suddenly realizing something.
"Hey!" she calls the woman with the ginger child, waving her to come back.
"What are you doing...?" mutters one of the girls on the table wearing sunglasses and typing the air with a finger.
"Here we go again..." sighs another one of the girls resting her head on her fist, about to fall asleep. The fourth girl resting on her shoulder already snoring.
The fourteen-year-old girl ignores them and smiles at the nude woman as she walks back.
"Hey amiga, we don't have paper money. But if you give me a second I’ll transfer you some bucks. Do you have a QR code?" she says pointing at her glasses.
"No, not money señorita," says the young woman shaking her head. She points at the chubby teen boy with an elaborate party hat dozing off in the middle of the table and raises her plastic cup "Can you help us with some sperm?"
The teens, particularly the fourteen-year-old boy she’s pointing at, shake awake.
"S-sorry amiga, I'm no longer fertile…" he says with an apologetic shrug rubbing his eyes.
The woman smiles, revealing rows of sharpened teeth. She shakes her head.
"It's fine amigo, Pachamama is no longer angry with humanity, she has made men whole again." she tickles the belly of her freckled two-year-old, causing him to giggle "She gifted me with this angelito. Now I want to gift him an hermanito to play with."
The teens exchange looks, intrigued. Then all eyes converge on the chubby boy in the center of the table.
He hesitates for a moment, unsure. But then he shrugs and turns on his seat to unbuckle his pants. He extends a hand to grab her plastic cup.
“Whatever, just give me a second as I’m a bit dry.”
"How about inside?" says the woman with a smile walking around the table to stand in front of him, her perky breast just above his head.
"Um, I don't know if I’m allowed to..." he mutters inspecting the faces of the girls around the table who shrug in response.
"Go for it. You're the one who's tired of having sex with us." says the girl with sunglasses without stopping her air-typing.
"What!? No, I'm not!"
"Yes, you are." chant the four girls at the same time, causing a round of giggles from their impromptu synchronization. He rolls his eyes and invites the woman to straddle him by waving his palms.
She smiles, lowers the toddler to the ground, and kneels in front of the boy to extract his penis from inside his Iron Man underwear. She starts stroking him with both hands and turns to her son.
"Xeen báaxal ka' jo'op' in ts'o'ok."
"Ba'ale' na'!" he pouts "Le cheemo’!"
She sighs and pushes him gently aside before standing up and positioning herself over the teen while holding the tip of his cock upright, pressing the tip between her dark lips. He lets out a huff when she lowers herself and their groins meet with a wet slap.
The teen girls around the table watch disinterested as he starts having sex with the naked mother, one of them yawns.
"Thank God we won't have to do this for a hundred more years..." she grumbles rubbing her eyes.
The girl with the long black hair notices the toddler repeating the same words over and over, trying to get his mother's attention as she rides the teen boy. She takes off her glasses and stands up, revealing the print on her grey t-shirt to be a reference to an old UN humanitarian campaign.
2069 - A YEAR TO RECIPROCATE
She walks around the table and kneels next to the curly-haired child.
"Is he okay? Does he need food?"
His mom shakes her head as she rides the youngster with smooth up-and-down thrusts, pressing his curly head between her banana-like breasts "No señorita, he just wants to watch the ships." she points to the street signs nearby showing animated icons of boat traffic.
"Oh! Want me to take him to the top of the seawall while you finish?"
The woman nods and smiles with another shark-like grin. The teen girl beams and lifts the nude child by the armpits.
"Geez Maria, just remember to bring him back.” mutters the girl supposedly asleep on the shoulder of her partner “We know you want a baby, but this is getting ridiculous..."
The rest of the girls laugh, even the boy with his head squeezed between the woman's breasts lets out a chuckle.
Maria sticks out her tongue and walks away with the naked toddler in her arms, rocking him and making funny noises.
"Come on! Let's go watch some ships! If we're lucky we may even see a drone carrier in the horizon!"
"Dro' Karr' eer'?"
"That's right, Drone Carrier…! Oh look!" she kneels and grabs a small American flag abandoned on the ground "What's this?"
"T'ump!"
She laughs, hands him the flag "No, that's the other flag. But it was a good guess..." she points at the sky "Oh! And the seagulls? How do you call them...?"
Maria walks along the sea barrier pointing at more things for the boy to identify while he waves his little flag. She giggles as he points at the distant container ships and babbles excitedly, greatly enjoying his unbridled enthusiasm and the way his small, soft body rests perfectly on her widening hips.
"What about that one?" she says pointing at the gibbous moon near the horizon.
"X-ch'úupal!" he squeaks, pointing with his chubby arm.
"Is that what the Moon is called? Okay, how about that one?" she points a bit higher "How do you call the green dot above X-ch'úupal?"
"X-ch'úupal!" he repeats, pointing with his flag at a group of seagulls swarming above the floating garbage pressed against the seawall.
"The same uh? Well, we call it The Castle, and it's where the royal family lives and... Oh my God!"
She puts a hand over her mouth and takes a step back. She stands frozen in place until she notices the child still pointing at the pale body floating face down between the garbage and covers his eyes.
"It's okay! D-don't worry...!" she babbles looking away from the grisly scene, hurrying to walk back to shore.
"K'abéet áantaj..." the boy repeats, trying to move her hand off his face.
"Y-yes, that's right! It's an... Alien! They fell from the sky and...! Um..." she struggles to keep him under control as he keeps fighting her, still trying to see "They're just resting for a little bit before their spaceship comes rescue them. How do you call a spaceship?"
The boy squeaks angry and drops the flag. Maria stops to pick it up, yet in doing so she cannot stop herself from taking another peek at the floating body and gasps one more time.
She straightens up, looks at both ends of the road for any signs of people, and runs back with the ginger boy bouncing in her arms.
"HEY! It's okay! I'm coming!" she yells placing the toddler on the ground and taking her flip-flops off before sliding carefully down the steep concrete surface on her butt and feet.
Once she reaches the crashing waves she shoos the birds away and plunges in the garbage-covered water to help the nude preteen girl who struggles to untangle herself from the bundle of empty plastic bottles and milk jugs tied around her body that she was handed as a made-shift floating device.
After much struggle Maria finally manages to get Carolina free and carries her atop the weathered structure just above the waves. The Asian girl coughs water and lays exhausted in the teen's arms.
"Hey! It's okay! You're safe! Help is! Um...!" Maria checks that the boy is still where she left him and looks for any signs of vehicles or people on either side of the road, yet she sees none. She gulps and keeps brushing wet hair strands off Caro's face "It's okay! Help is coming any second now..."
The nude preteen jolts from her words. She grabs the collar of her grey t-shirt and pulls her closer.
"N... no!" she grunts, spitting out more water "No help! No cops...!" she coughs again.
"What you mean no cops!? We got to find whoever did this to you!"
"Please! They'll hurt him…! I have to go back! N-NOW...!" Caro grumbles trying to stand up before she succumbs to another coughing fit.
Maria pats the wet tween in her arms waiting for her to calm down. She looks up to check on the toddler and sees him trying to walk down the incline to join them, his delicate feet stepping uneasily on the wet, steep surface.
"Chingad..." she mutters.
The teen girls explode into laughter. The group has left the café and are now hanging out near a park bench nearby, recounting excitedly the previous night's anecdotes.
"A... And then she...!" one of the girls tries to say holding back laughs "She turned around and it looked for a second like she had RIPPED out his cock!"
Another round of thunderous laughs. The tattooed woman smiles and returns her attention to the teen boy sitting next to her on the bench, his face still red from having orgasmed minutes prior. She points at the tattoo on her shoulder and explains its meaning to the boy who nods fascinated.
"There she is!" says one of the girls pointing at Maria coming back with the freckled child in her arms still waving his tiny flag. The girl frowns and raises her voice "Hey! What happened to our shirt!?"
The bare-chested teen shrugs as if too tired to explain the whole story. She hands the toddler back to his mother who keeps kicking his legs excitedly.
"Tin wilo'on jump'éel ch'úupalo' Eek'e'!" he squeaks.
"Ma'alob! Xook in asab..." she says kissing his forehead and standing up. A string of cum dripping along the inside of her thigh.
"What's he saying?" asks one of the girls.
The indigenous woman shrugs "He says they met a girl from the stars." she turns to Maria and gives her back the small flag "Thank you señorita."
The shirtless teen smiles and nods back, exhaling in relief. She pokes the nose of the two-year-old causing him to giggle "No problem. Where are you heading next? Canada?"
The woman shakes her head as she re-accommodates the cambaya satchel and the toddler in her arms "No señorita, China."
A silence as the teens exchange looks, their eyebrows raised. The boy removes his party hat and whistles.
"That's a looong walk... And crossing the Bering Strait ain’t as easy as before."
The woman shrugs.
"No, but it’s what I have to do for my angelito and his hermanito. I want them to grow up speaking Mandarin." she passes a hand over the boy's curly hair, smiles "They're already chinitos anyway…"
He smiles back and shrugs a little, feeling awkward. The tattooed woman kisses him on the forehead and walks away. The red-haired boy on her arms waves the teens goodbye with a thumb in his mouth.
The teenagers wave him back and watch the duo leave in silence, listening to the tunes the mother murmurs to entertain her child during their long journey.
Then once she has vanished in the distance, one by one they turn towards the topless Maria still holding the small flag with curious eyes.
"So... What happened out there?" asks one of the girls handing her glasses back “And where's our shirt from the 2nd grade? You were supposed to be the one keeping it safe."
The Latin teen puts on her glasses and sighs, wondering where to begin.
At the same time but in the opposite side of the seawall, a Maglev train arrives at a crowded station where rows of caffeinated and hung-over tourists stumble on board during the few seconds its doors remain open. After a beep they close shut and the hovering vehicle launches back to full speed amidst puffs of nitrogen gas.
Inside one of the train cars, a stylish old man with blue hair, a tweed vest, and checkered pants reads the news on a paper-thin tablet with a wooden back and golden trims. He throws glances at the people hurrying to find seats around him and blinks rapidly when an exhausted Caro slumps on the plastic seat in front of him wearing María's grey t-shirt and nothing else, too tired to even try and hide her pussy which is barely covered by the teen-sized garment.
She notices the man's disapproving stare and shrugs slightly.
"Crazy night uh…?" she murmurs deadpan.
The old man doesn't respond. He huffs and returns his attention to his tablet replaying the King's speech at the UN. The images of his stern, regal face intercut with stock footage of the Queen wearing an elaborate, otherworldly dress smiling next to her two small children.
The air is quiet on Miguel's hideout atop the brick building in the middle of the flooded town. The noon overcast sky dulls the colors from the otherwise cheerful decorations the boy has assembled over the past couple of years.
A nude and soaking wet Caro moves from one side of the roof to the other scouting the area below, looking for any red object she may have missed after her exhaustive exploration of the flooded surroundings.
Close to succumbing from both exhaustion and hopelessness, she rests for a moment leaning on the two-foot brick ledge bordering the rooftop, her breathing raw.
Fresh, painful memories crash against her consciousness as she stares at the waves three stories below, threatening to bend her legs and crumble what little remains of her resolve into a puddle of tears and regrets.
"The phone! NOW!" hisses the towering woman in tactical gear moving her assault rifle closer, the green orbs of her night goggles making her look like some kind of murderous machine emerging from the night.
Carolina freezes in fear and her phone —still playing the video of the fishing boat— slides off her fingers and lands face-down on the floor. Next to her, an equally terrified Miguel stares with wide-open eyes at the muzzle of the assault rifle. He has seen that very weapon in countless shows and movies, but now that he's facing the real deal he can't seem to get his eyes off it.
"Pick it up, and hand it to me." says the muscular woman in a steady, collected voice while extending a gloved hand towards the Asian preteen "And do it slowly... I don't want to shoot you boy."
Caro nods fighting back tears. She kneels while keeping her palms up and grabs the electronic device with two fingers as if it were a piece of radioactive material.
She places it on the woman’s palm who immediately turns the device with her fingers and presses the screen with a thumb to stop the video.
A pause. She taps the screen again and grunts, annoyed.
She takes a quick look at the two petrified kids and takes a step back. Then without lowering her rifle, she lifts her night goggles and awkwardly tries to remove her glove to manipulate the screen.
The kids exchange a quick look and the boy's expression immediately changes when he sees Caro's terrified face for the first time framed in an oval by the hood of her green hoodie.
The boy's eyebrows drop, his jaw clenches in a swell of anger and determination. Caro recognizes his intentions and shakes her head, trying to stop him.
But it's too late.
He grabs her wrist with a hand, the brim of his MAGA cap with the other, and uses it as a net to snatch the phone out of the woman's hand and throw it in the air, bolting in the opposite direction with the girl in tow who has no choice but to follow him.
For a second the woman with the buzzcut doesn't react, unsure which of her two objectives is more important. She finally raises her rifle and tracks the bright phone screen tucked inside the hat as it flies in the air and disappears past the edge of the rooftop.
A second later, a tiny splash.
"Fuck!" she whispers, returning her attention to the two preteens who are nowhere to be seen, lost behind the many plants and decorations populating the rooftop.
"Fuck..." she mutters again. She throws the rifle over her shoulder and lowers her night goggles, hurrying to get them settled.
"What was that? You found it?" says a tiny voice in her ear, stopping her.
"Negative. Still no signs of the recording device." she whispers trying to sound like nothing is out of the ordinary.
A pause on the radio “Affirmative, it was probably an old webcam again. Just make sure there are no witnesses, things didn't go so swimmingly down here. We got to go ASAP."
"Roger...." she whispers ending the call "Fuck...!" she mutters to herself grinding her teeth, trying to figure out her next move.
She looks back in the direction the phone vanished, then towards the place the kids ran away.
She breathes deep, absolutely hating what she has to do next.
"Just jump!" screeches Miguel trying to keep his voice to a whimper, his hands pressing Caro’s body as she sits with one leg on each side of the two-foot ledge, staring with a terrified face at the crashing waves three stories below. Behind them, the platform of blue plastic pallets with the two deck chairs on top hides them from the woman.
"I-I can't!" she whispers, fighting him as if he was trying to throw her into a lava pit "W-what's even the point of jumping!? She can still shoot us!"
"Hypersonic bullets don't penetrate water!" he hisses "Just jump!"
The platform of pallets suddenly launches in the air as the woman raises it in a single swoop, deck chairs and all.
"THERE YOU ARE!" she roars triumphant.
The two kids scream their lungs out. The woman smiles and throws the platform with the chairs behind her, readying the first of her zip ties from the bundle hanging from her elbow.
But then her smile vanishes when Caro's stripped dress lands on her face along the rest of the trash and other items the kids left atop the platform.
"Girl, what the hell…?" she grumbles rolling the beige dress in a ball and throwing it off the roof.
Miguel has a brief moment of clarity as the rest of Caro’s clothes, the empty juice boxes, abuelita’s old coins and bills, and even the Trump plushie roll on the floor. He turns to Carolina and pushes her off the roof.
The Asian girl screams, her body moving on its own to stop her fall at the very last second by hugging the brick ledge with her armpits.
Miguel is about to jump off the roof when he does a double take. He drops his shoulders "This is NO time to be afraid of heights!"
Caro glances at the crashing waves below and hugs the brick ledge tighter, her face pale. She looks up and sees the muscular woman standing in front of her with an amused smile, her massive hands reaching towards her.
She squeaks and closes her eyes.
"DON'T TOUCH HER!" screeches the boy lunging against the woman, his skinny frame impacting her body as if she were a concrete wall.
He looks back at Caro "JUMP! Don't worry about me! We'll meet ag...!"
His voice vanishes in a puff. The woman has sunk a knee on his stomach, emptying his lungs of all air.
"ENOUGH with all this yelling...!"
Miguel slumps to the ground and curls into a fetal position, eyes bulging. Caro stops struggling and stares horrified at the boy on the ground.
She looks again at the water below, then meets eyes with the big scary woman who looks at her with a defiant grin, waiting to see whether she’ll try and help him.
Carolina squeezes her eyes and lets go of the roof. She puts her hands on her head and bends her body, preparing for impact.
A second passes, then two, and three. She opens her eyes and looks without understanding at the ocean below as she floats in the air.
“Where you think you’re going…?” the woman mutters clenching the fabric of her hoodie.
Caro is suddenly yanked upwards and she lands with a painful humph back on the roof. Before she can reorient herself a padded knee lands on her back, nailing her in place.
"You MORONS! I was going to let you go!" the woman hisses as Caro kicks and punches the air "You just had to give me the DAMNED phone!"
The girl's yells for help come to a sudden stop when a ball-gag is shoved inside her mouth and tied shut. Moments later her wrists and ankles are tied together with zip-ties in swift, practiced motions.
"But NO! You boys had to try and be heroes, and now that the phone is gone I have NO choice but to take you in!" she shakes her head, furious "FUCK!!!"
A second later the eleven-year-old girl is fully hogtied and unable to move. She looks at Miguel laying with dead-fish eyes next to her and screams into her gag.
The woman huffs, recovering from the adrenaline rush. She steps off the preteen girl and walks to the boy to repeat the same procedure at a more leisured pace.
"You want to be a hero boy?" she says to her as she hogties him "Next time you record professional criminals with your shitty phone, disable the infrared hail from its FUCKING camera! You can buy sensors at Walmart that detect when someone is recording you." she taps one of the antennas poking out her night goggles. She snorts "Pretty basic stuff..."
Caro's muffled cries grow louder as the woman finishes tying Miguel up. Tears flood her vision as she keeps yelling, desperate.
She can't help him anymore, that much is clear. All she just wants is to see him react, see him blink.
She wants to know he's okay.
His face suddenly vanishes when a golden sack is put around her head and tied shut.
Carolina's fingers clench into fists, anger and despair bubbling inside her. She sniffs trying to control herself, rubs away the tears combined with the water dripping from her hair, its colorful tips almost completely washed away by this point.
She suddenly notices something in the periphery of her vision. She turns and sees Miguel's red cap laying on the ground.
Her eyebrows furrow.
An adult hand slides around her head and presses her mouth shut, pulling her body back into a tight hug. The preteen girl tries to scream but no sound comes out.
"Shhh! Calm down! This will only take a second…" says a heavily accented voice behind her ear, his other hand touching all over her developing body.
The nude tween is in a state of absolute panic, she wails and tries to free herself from the grip of the arms holding her but he’s too strong. She screams harder when large fingers slide between her legs and probe unceremoniously inside both her entrances, moving in and out so fast she can barely tell if it actually happened.
Her head is suddenly forced sideways, she notices the man is barefoot and yells as she steps on his toes with all her might.
The man's body tenses up but he doesn't release her, he just grunts and curses to himself. He forces her head to the opposite side and inspects her other ear.
"Alright, no trackers. Let’s just hope you don’t have one of those new quantum ones inside... Now CALM DOWN! I can tell you've never been frisked before. You're one of the kids they captured earlier today, aren't you?"
Caro stops just when she's about to kick his toes again, her panic replaced by astonishment.
The man sighs in relief and lets her go, raising his palms in front of him to signal he intends no more harm.
Caro immediately moves away and turns to face him. She squeaks and covers her mouth with her hands as if she just saw a ghost, the astonishment in her face going through a series of sequential transformations.
First, she's shocked by the fact that he's the same young man the people on the boat supposedly executed. Second, the fact that he's severely injured and wearing her blue boy shorts which are comically small for his size. And third, how strikingly handsome he is, giving her the surreal feeling that she's in front of a movie star.
"Ah...! Ah... Y-yeah that was us. H-how did you...? Um..." she mutters stumbling with her words, trying not to stare at the contour of his large penis pressed obscenely against the fabric of her underwear. She suddenly remembers she's still naked and hurries to cover her breast and crotch.
“Hey, hey!” he yells snapping his fingers, bringing her attention “What country are we in?"
"Uh?"
"You heard me. Is this the former Yucatan Peninsula?"
"Ah… N-no! The former Gulf Coast. We're in Greater America." she pauses, looks sideways "I think that's still how it's called..."
Ramesh drops his shoulders, his resolve rapidly deflating. He puts a hand on his head and leans against the platform of blue pallets laying upside down.
"Fuck...! I saw so many signs in Spanish I thought this was Mexico..."
"I-I don't get it, Mister... H-how are you still alive? We saw you getting shot."
"No, you heard rifles being discharged. Big difference." he says with a pained smile taking a seat at one of the toppled deck chairs, bending his body to rub his reddened toes.
"Ah! I'm… Sorry for that. I thought you were going to..."
"No need for an apology," he interrupts with a grimace, producing Caro's phone from the back of her boy shorts "Instead, compensate the damage by helping me unlock this thing. I got to make a call."
He throws the device to the naked girl who barely manages to catch it.
"Oh my God, you found it!?" she yells ecstatic, struggling to manipulate the device while keeping her body covered. But her enthusiasm quickly evaporates as she keeps tapping the black screen with no results.
"Oh no… It stayed too long in the saltwater. It's dead!"
"Really? Uh, I thought it was just locked, it was buzzing like crazy when I found it…" he notices the girl moving to retrieve Maria’s grey t-shirt from the floor and points at it "Don't bother to get dressed, I’m going to take that t-shirt. All the clothes around here are tiny."
"M-my shirt!?" she squeaks hugging the garment and taking a step back "W-why?"
He smirks "Don't flatter yourself kiddo, your breasts are so small you’re basically a boy." he tilts his head, murmurs to himself "Not that big breast would make much difference in my case…"
"But you're already wearing clothes! W-why can't YOU remain bare-chested?"
He sighs and stands up with difficulty "Because I'm going to the bank and they ask fewer questions if I don't look like I literally fell off a boat." he limps towards her with his palm extended "The shirt, please."
Ram stands in place waiting for the girl to comply. Caro stares at his handsome face and hugs the t-shirt tighter. She looks down at his bare feet, weighing her options.
He sighs and rolls his eyes.
"Whatever, suit yourself kiddo. I'll just use my charms." he says turning to leave "They kept me from being shot, they should get me some bloody clothes..."
Caro watches him limp away and breathes in relief. She puts the grey t-shirt back on, looks at the scattered remains of their struggle with the scary woman just hours ago, and presses her palms on her face, growling in desperation.
"W-wait! Mister! Don't leave!"
She catches him just as he grabs the handles of the rusty ladder leading down the side of the building.
"If I give you this t-shirt, would you help me?" she says holding Miguel's hat like a bowl with her dead phone tucked inside.
Ram frowns, confused "I'm not sure how I could help you kiddo. I don't have anything to..."
"All I need is information!" she pleads placing the hat on the floor and taking her single piece of clothing off "Do you know where the pirates will take him?"
"Him?"
"Miguel! T-the boy who was here with me!” she says giving him the t-shirt and covering herself with her hands again “They captured both of us, but they let me go for some reason!"
He grabs the grey shirt and smiles, points at her uneven breast buds "Same issue as before." his expression suddenly darkens "But yes, I know where they'll take your friend. They're heading back to The Farm."
"A... Farm? W-why? They want him to pick strawberries?"
Ram smiles and shakes his head, finding her ignorance adorable.
"No kiddo, not even close. They want his sperm of course, and they will get it whether he wants it or not." he leans his weight on the ladder’s handles, starts speaking in a business-like voice "The 'Farm' —as it's colloquially known— is a sea-bound, movable, untraceable facility designed to extract maximum value out of a rotating cargo of male children in the spermarche age." he notices her confused face, sighs "It means that they'll milk your friend dry every single day so long as he remains fertile, then throw him overboard once he's not. What age is he?"
It takes a moment for Caro to answer, her eyes unfocused and jaw loose.
"A-about my age, eleven and a half… But I don't know exactly, he hasn't told anyone when's his birthd..."
Ram looks up as he does some math "Yeah, I'd say you'll see him again in 20 to 22 months."
"WHAT!?"
"Plus a year or so for the extradition process."
"Extradition!?"
He shrugs "Of course! You think these 'pirates' —as you call them— will be anywhere near this shithole country two years from now?" he clicks his tongue, motions at the flooded town around them "I doubt they'll stay for more than a couple weeks around these shores. Especially since 'she' started Moby Dick'ing this whole hemisphere, but that's another story..." he says pronouncing 'she' with disdain, then points at Caro's face "Hey, does your friend look like you? Because if he ends up in a country under the Red Protectorate he could pass as a Hanzu and get much better treatment."
But Carolina is no longer listening to him, blood long ago having abandoned her face. She walks backward about to faint, steadying herself with a hand.
"N-no… That can't be…!" she mutters, her voice swelling with despair "T-there must be something we can do to help him!" she suddenly remembers the red hat in the ground "The video! My phone is wet, but the files can be recovered! If we send it anonymously to the cops with a note explaining what's inside, I bet they can..."
Her voice trails off as Ram's smile grows. He shakes his head and steps carefully on the rusty ladder.
"Right, a video... I bet before releasing you the 'pirates' threatened you and your family if you reported them, right?"
Caro nods "Y-yes Mister... They showed me a..." she gulps "Horrible video of an execution... T-the women in the background were all... Cheering when the boy was shot in the head! They told me they kill boys like that for minor misdemeanors all the time, and they’ll do the same to Miguel if I report them to the authorities!" her voice breaks, about to start crying "They... forced me to give them my username. They could kill me too...! Sir, please! They can find my moms with my username…!"
Ramesh nods, his expression solemn as the naked girl stands trembling in place, about to start crying.
He snorts and starts laughing.
"Don't sweat it kiddo, it's all bullshit. They were just trying to scare you to protect their asses. They were supposed to kill me, remember? Here, keep this, you seem like you need it more than me..." he throws the t-shirt at her feet, taps his bruised forehead "Just think! If we... I mean... if they had to keep track of every single person who has seen or recorded their operations, HALF THE WORLD would be held at gunpoint already! Who has the time or money for that!?" he laughs again, starts descending the ladder "So knock yourself out! Call the cops, the Red Guard, post it online, whatever. I bet your video will be a popular creepypasta."
Caro listens flabbergasted. She grabs the t-shirt from the ground and puts it on, leans on the edge of the roof to yell at Ram descending the ladder.
"B-but Mister! If so many people have recorded these pirates and they’re still free, then NOTHING will happen from my recording either!"
Ramesh pauses his descent, smiles.
"Pretty much, yeah. You hit that nail on the head, good for you!" his smile vanishes "But you're right, there are too many interests around drone milking for people to try and stop it. I learned THAT the hard way..." he points at his swollen eye "But hey! You should report them anyway! It will be good for you, psychologically speaking. Get the trauma off your system and all that..." he continues descending "At a minimum tell his parents so they can trigger an Amber alert! Those are always fun..."
"But he has no parents to report him missing!"
"That makes two of us!" he yells back, growing annoyed at their conversation "Good luck!"
"No Mister! Don't leave! Please!" she screams leaning half her body over the ledge, her voice breaking up "Y-you don't understand! Miguel has been all alone since his family... vanished or something two years ago! I-I don't even know half of what he's lived through! He's very secretive! All I know is that he has NO ONE to help him!"
The rusty ladder keeps shaking from Ram’s footsteps, uninterrupted. Carolina falls back on her butt and starts crying with hands on her head, Miguel's hat resting silent next to her.
"Pleaseeee...!" she pleads to no one, tears flowing freely down her cheeks "He's such a good boy! He's so polite and cultured... He hasn't harmed anyone to deserve this...!"
Her bawls get lost between the colorless decorations around the rooftop. The plants from Miguel's garden swing in the gentle ocean breeze, big tears land by her knees.
She sniffles loud and starts rocking in place, hugging herself.
"I was supposed to escort him. Keep him safe..." she whispers, miserable "Oh God... Please help him... Please… Please help me fix things..."
The rusty ladder continues clanking, only louder now. Ramesh's head peeks over the ledge.
"What did you say your friend's name was again...?"
The ginger toddler plays with the little American flag as he sits on the concrete incline between the soaked Caro and Maria who talk in whispers.
"Okay, I won't call the cops. But at least let me help you find him..." says Maria placing a hand on the naked girl’s shoulder.
"No, no, it’s too risky. I have to do this on my own..." the preteen says rubbing tears off “And not just because of the video they showed me. There’s..." she swallows “There’s more… Something I haven’t told anyone…”
The small boy turns and starts crawling up the incline to see if he can see more ships from a higher altitude. After a while moving on his hands and knees, Maria comes to fetch him and holds him in her arms.
"Jesus..." she mutters.
Caro shrugs and lets out a pained smile.
"You still want to help me?"
Maria hugs the boy tighter, apprehensive. Caro nods and stands up with difficulty.
"Don't worry, you've helped me enough by not calling the cops." she points at the toddler "And besides, you already have someone to take care of..."
She waves them goodbye and walks away with unsteady footsteps, heading in the opposite direction to where Maria came from.
The Latin teen looks back at the buildings where her friends are, then at the nude preteen walking along the empty road dragging her feet.
She hurries to catch her.
"Hey! Wait…! At least take this!"
She hands the child to Caro to hold for a moment as she takes off her wet t-shirt. She points at one of the handwritten notes on the grey fabric "That's my username, use it whenever you need money and I'll authorize it with my glasses."
“No, no. You don’t have to…”
"I may not know your boyfriend, but I also want you to find him." Maria smiles "He must be a great guy for you to be doing all this."
Caro can't stop herself from chuckling.
"He's not my..." she stops herself, grabs the t-shirt with a hand and gives the toddler back "He is a great guy… Thank you."
Maria nods "Don't get me wrong, my novio is cute and all but..." she shrugs “Yours sounds like the kind worth toppling the Moon for. When this is all over, I hope you introduce us."
Caro laughs despite herself. She puts the t-shirt on and nods looking at the ground, unconvinced that will ever happen.
"You'll find him..." Maria says suddenly serious. Caro looks up and they meet eyes "Don't ask me how I know it, I just do. I have a knack for these kinds of things…" she gulps "I knew I shouldn't have to worry about what would happen to me after my dad passed. I also know that despite everything you just told me,” she rocks the toddler in her arms, tickles his belly “This little guy won't have to be scared of going outside when he reaches spermarche."
Carolina frowns and nods, not wanting to waste time arguing back. She pokes the toddler's nose and waves them goodbye, walking barefoot on the cracked pavement stretching into the horizon.
Her unstable footsteps grow more and more determinate as she walks along the sea wall. After a while, they turn into a gait, then a jog, and finally a sprint as she hurries to reach the other side of the barrier where the train station is.
Caro sits at one of the cushions hugging the Trump plushie, her eyes dry and her cheeks crusty, no longer able to muster any more tears.
Ram sits on a cushion nearby, his hands playing with the MAGA cap as he thinks. He sighs, looks with narrowed eyes at the afternoon sky and shakes his head, trying to talk himself out of a really bad idea.
"Okay, I lied. There IS something you can do to help your friend…" he says throwing the red hat back to her.
Caro blinks and perks up, a hint of hope in her voice "Yeah?"
"But before I tell you, you should know this will be the opposite of easy, not to mention incredibly dangerous. Are you ready to do whatever it takes to rescue him?"
The Asian girl nods. She puts the soft toy aside and sits on her knees, all ears to what he has in mind.
Ramesh raises a palm "Hold your enthusiasm until you hear what it entails kiddo." he takes a breath "See, I don't just know the insides and outs on how these 'pirates' operate, I wrote almost all their operational manuals. Hell, there were so many we could have been granted an ISO:9001” he chuckles, then gets serious again "What this means is that I know every single weakness or exploit in their system, things not even 'she' knows about..."
He snaps his fingers, trying to think of an analogy.
"Think of these weaknesses as... zeroth day bugs in a new App." he smiles devilishly "And the Farm is chock full of them. Especially after its latest drydock renovations when nearly every system was upgraded. Do you understand why it's SO important you take this very, VERY seriously…?"
Caro gulps and nods, trying to follow his train of thought.
"Y-yes Mister, I think so... If we screw up there will be no do-overs. We only got one shot."
He smiles and points at her.
"Exactly! Right now the 'pirates' think I'm dead —or at least the crew will report me as such—. But once we try and rescue the p... I mean Miguel, they'll double-check everything I've ever touched or revert things to their legacy versions. You must do EXACTLY as I tell you."
Caro nods, scared but also hopeful by Ram’s competent and reassuring demeanor. For the first time since this nightmare began, she feels like there's a chance.
She puts Miguel’s hat on and stands up, hyping herself up "Yes sir! Let's DO it! Where do we start!?"
He snickers, motions at his bruised face "Well, in case you haven't noticed, I need to recover from getting the shit beaten out of me, not to mention I need a way to get back online to replace the broken implant in my skull." he sighs “We also need a form of transportation, something private and untraceable... A car preferably."
"A car?" she repeats, suddenly worried "W-where are you going?"
"Where are WE going." he says standing up and wincing in pain "Everyone at the Farm knows my face, their security bots even more so. If I get even a little bit close it will trigger all the alarms." he points at the girl, smiles "But they don't know YOUR face. From what you told me, Miguel is injured and likely to be kept in the ship's infirmary until next weekend when brothels have a surge in demand. If he has recovered by then he’ll be inside one by Friday night." he shrugs "Or at least that's what I would do if I were still in charge since his considerable sexual skills are more profitable than his sperm, so that's where we'll start."
Caro's jaw hangs loose as she hears him speak, overwhelmed by the casualness of his explanation.
She shakes her head, hurries to fetch her phone and the money from Miguel's grandma and shoves it all inside the bottom pocket of the Trump plushie. She runs back and helps Ram walk back to the access ladder.
"Start where!? A brothel!? I-I don't understand!"
He snorts "Isn't it obvious? I need you to fuck the boys in these brothels until you stumble across Miguel or find information about his whereabouts. It should be easy as boys are usually quite chatty when outside the Farm.” he snickers “What used to be a big headache for me will now be our biggest advantage. Ironies keep piling up..." he steps on the ladder, points at her "And once we find him —and this is really important— DON'T try to rescue him! Just knowing where he is in the Farm’s corporate ecosystem will be enough for the next part of my plan."
"H-hold on Mister… You want me to find Miguel by..." she swallows "Having sex!?"
He shrugs "Yeah, as much as you can in fact. We've partnered with lots of brothel brands, so he could be anywhere. Don’t forget the clock is ticking and there's an element of luck here, our chances improve drastically the more establishments we sample." he starts descending the ladder in small, careful steps "If you're worried about how much money it will cost, don't worry, when I was about your age I invested some Yuan in nano startups and those motherfuckers have exploded in value ever since.” he smirks and shakes his head “This whole operation will probably cost me one less room in the Antarctica mansion I'll retire to afterward. Oh well... Oh, that reminds me, you got all your STD vaccines?"
"B-but Mister! I've never...! I don't know if I...!" Caro babbles blushing hard, her hands gripping her t-shirt as if to reassure herself it's still there "Is this the only way!?"
Ram stops and sighs, frustrated by her hesitance.
"Look kiddo, it's either this, or we turn you into a boy, shove an entangled beacon up your ass, and wiggle you as bait for the ‘pirates’ to capture." he rolls his eyes "Unfortunately we don't have enough time to get a working penis grafted onto you, so I'll ask one last time: ARE you, or are you NOT ready to do WHATEVER it takes to get your boyfriend back?"
Caro recoils from his stern words. She hugs the plushie and looks at her bare feet, battling conflicting emotions.
She breathes deep and nods.
"Yes... I'll do whatever it takes to fix things..."
Ram holds his harsh stare for another second. Then he nods and continues descending.
“Good to know…”
"Thank you, Mister... For helping us." says Caro with a quivering smile, eyes wet with tears "I know you don't need money, and I don't have any to offer you anyway. So, from the bottom of my heart... Thank you..."
Ram seems doubtful for half a second, as if wondering to himself if he's doing the right thing.
But his hesitation vanishes like a whiff of smoke, replaced by a beaming white smile.
"Don't worry about it."
"But! Um, I also have a suggestion…" she adds quickly.
Ram stops and looks at her with a raised eyebrow. Caro shrugs slightly.
"You say our chances improve the more brothels we visit, right?" she bites her lip "Well... There's someone I know who could help us with that."
"Girls! The car is here! Let's go!" yells the middle-aged white woman dressed in a yellow sundress and holding a small red purse. She turns to her bearded husband dressed in a baby blue shirt and beige dress fiddling with his crystal-clear phone "What type of car they sent now? Another subcompact?"
"No, an SUV." he mutters grabbing the red purse and sliding it over his shoulder. His wife lifts a bulky camouflaged backpack waiting by the door and slides it over her shoulders.
"Typical..." she huffs.
Moments later, their two six-year-old daughters come running amidst giggles from inside one of the hotel bedrooms, both girls naked except for wiggling Minnie Mouse strap-ons around their hips, the pink plastic cocks blinking with LED lights inside.
"Hey, hey! Where are you going?" says their father reigning them in "Those are still wet! Get them cleaned or get them off before we get in the car. Where's your sister?"
"She's still tied up." explains one of the girls with a guilty smile.
"Still!? Well, get her loose and tell her to hurry!"
"And remind her to put on some panties!" adds her mother looking for wet tissues to include in her backpack "I'm tired of cleaning pussy juice off movie seats!"
The preschoolers nod and run back to the bedroom where they press a red plastic button to unlock the web of pink ropes crisscrossing the mattress. They relay their parent's message in a flurry of words to the naked preteen laying spread eagle on the bed before bolting towards the bathroom in another flurry of high-pitched screams.
Rebecca sighs and removes the cartoon blindfold from her eyes, pink handcuffs hanging from her wrists. She turns, grabs her sunglasses from the bedside table and groans in sheer disappointment. Still no new messages from the boy and girl she met at the beach and her Sunday is almost over.
Bereaved, she drops the sunglasses back on the table and unlocks the handcuffs and purple bar keeping her ankles spread, then carefully slides the dildo in the form of a cartoon caterpillar out of her pussy, turns it off, and throws it aside.
She jumps out of bed and searches for something to wear inside her vintage suitcase laying next to a Disney bag, carefully examining each garment trying to choose the most slutty combination.
"Becks! The car is downstairs!" yells her father from the hallway. The black girl groans.
"I'm coming!"
"You better not or we'll be waiting for you all day! Save that orgasm for later!"
The twelve-year-old rolls her eyes and gets her arms inside a stylish denim jacket, buttoning only the lower half so her budding breasts cones remain visible. Next, she grabs a pair of white lace panties and bends her body to put them on.
Her glasses start buzzing from an incoming call, catching her with her legs still midway inside the skimpy underwear. She gasps and tries to jump in one leg towards to answer, but in her panic she trips and falls to the ground.
The glasses keep buzzing impatiently. Her hand reaches from under the bedside table and finally grabs them.
"Hello...?" she answers while on the carpeted floor, trying to sound casual and a little bit sexy "Oh! Hi! Yeah, sorry, I was shaving my coochie in the bathroom and didn't hear the buzz... Yeah, yeah, of course I remember you!" she bites her lip, speaks more sensually "How could I not...?"
"Becks!?" call both her parents, yet the preteen doesn't even flinch.
"No, I'm not busy..." she says turning on the floor to lay on her stomach, her feet swinging behind her in anticipation "I'm just chilling naked in my bedroom thinking about yesterday, how about you…? Mmh? Oh! No, no need to apologize! I spent the day hanging out with the family instead. It was..." she gulps "Fun..."
She pauses again as she hears Caro speak, her smile widening the more she keeps listening. Somewhere far away her parents yell again, angrier. Rebecca doesn't even notice.
"Next weekend sounds good!" she says a bit too excited “And who is this cousin of yours who’ll be driving us between each brothel?” her eyebrows wiggle “Is he also cute…?"
To be continued…
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