Betrayal

Tim grabbed the stained, wet pillow that had been under Karen's hips while she was getting fucked, took the pillowcase off, and stuffed the pillow under the bed. He quickly looked through the twenty-plus tapes, gathered all those with KK on the label, added a tape entitled "Fuckfest Highlights", and then indiscriminately grabbed videos and stuffed them inside his pillowcase sack until he had just enough unused cloth at the top to twist and tie it so he could carry the bulky sack.

Slipping back out the door into the cold wind, which now included freezing rain and sleet pellets, forced Tim to the realization that he was running out of time. He began trotting back to his truck with shotgun in one hand, the 30-30 strapped over his shoulder, and the pillowcase in his other hand.

When he came to Larry's BMW, he paused: the foreign vehicle belonging to that punk somehow released a spurt of the rage he had kept under control all night. White-hot fury rushed through his veins; he pulled out his Bowie knife, stabbed two tires through the sidewall, and muttered, "Take that, you arrogant, wife-beating asshole! Try changing two tires in a fucking snowstorm!"

Briefly mollified, Tim turned back toward the road to his truck, took two steps, and then paused again. "Fuck all of them, and the horses they rode in on! Let ALL those mother fuckers walk back home in the fucking snow!" he yelled into the howling wind and freezing rain.

With that proclamation, he went from truck to truck stabbing every tire on every vehicle, including the remaining two on Larry's Beamer. He used the tip to mark the paint job on both side, the trunk, and hood.

His rage was channeled toward destruction now, and he was considering other ways to strike back without killing them all, although, he concluded, that option was actually sounding better and better. Hell, they did say they would kill him and his sons if he found out, and he found out, so now it was kill or be killed!

The sentry light dimmed as the wind-borne frozen precipitation made it harder to see, and another idea popped into his mind: blow up the transformer and leave them here in the storm without light or heat! He brought his shotgun up, and then remembered that JW had a backup generator in the pump house. Rushing inside the pump shed, he took up an axe lying against the wall and battered the generator beyond repair. Gasoline ran from the ruptured tank across the floor and against the wall south wall.

Chuckling wildly in exhilaration, feeling the Berserker blood of his warrior ancestors surging again after so many years of containment, he looked around for more targets. Seeing mostly junk, he used the axe to destroy the electric box for the pump. That served no real purpose, but gave him another outlet for his rage.

Still carrying the axe, he went back outside, followed the telephone line back to the house, and destroyed the tether. Without a phone, they couldn't call for help when they discovered their vehicles had no tires, and, after he destroyed the transformer, they would be up shit creek without a paddle!

He now had a plan for vengeance: the unanswered question was, could he carry it out, knowing the whole damn crew, including the mother of his children, could die?

He stood in the blizzard, examining the scope of his betrayal as he stared at the brightly lit house, which contained the woman he had loved for six years and the seven naked men there to fuck her, six of whom he worked with or for.

Sadness washed over him, and then fell away as rage returned with a roar!

Despite Larry's supposed banishment, no one had come outside so Tim went back for a last look. He saw Karen lying across the bed straddling Joe Wardens fat carcass, ostensibly riding his cock. John Allen knelt above Warden's head so Karen could suck his cock, and Larry's cock was buried in her ass. Benton and Steve were on either side of her, and she was jacking them off. JW was carrying one of the video cameras, taking close ups of the various cocks entering her every orifice and her hands stroking the remaining dicks. Tim watched in anger and anguish as the wife he loved so completely a few hours ago serviced five men at once!

His heart raced for a moment; he idly marveled at the fact that the guy she derided and threatened ten minutes ago was now buried in her ass, and felt the last vestiges of his love for her drain away.

His decision confirmed, Tim muttered, "Fuck 'em all! They've got it coming, every single one! My sons will be better off without the slut's influence anyway!"

He took pictures with the remaining film, saw Allen cum in her mouth, watched her make a production of swallowing, and heard Karen moan theatrically while the others continued to pound her.

He walked back to the light pole, leaning into the howling wind while lightening flashed and thunder roared. Tim backed off a few steps toward the road, aimed his full choke 12-gauge shotgun loaded with #1 shot at the junction of the transformer line and house, waited for a close lightning flash, and instantly pulled the trigger so the shotgun blast would blend with the thunder.

All hell immediately broke loose! The line seemed to explode, and sparks flew from the wire, which was bouncing around, erratically hitting the ground, the trucks, and the pump house. He saw the lights in the house go out while he was backing quickly away from the terrifying acrobatics of the live wire. Satisfied with his work, he ran in the direction of his truck.

When he made the brush line, Tim stopped and peered back though the driven snow toward the house. He saw a flashlight's beam, saw a man step out the back door, and scream to the others "HOLY SHIT! The damn blizzard is already here! OH, FUCK - the electric line has broken and is bouncing around shorting on our trucks! GET DRESSED! WE'VE GOT TO GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!"

The sound of his Berserker laugh muted by the storm, he turned back toward his truck.