The Hunter and the Hunted

I smiled.

"At least you still have your sense of humor."

"I wish I did. I keep thinking about what's going to happen to me next."

"Where is this Bible camp you talked about?"

"I don't know. Jeremy said it's a farm with a big barn and the barn has a cross painted on the roof. He said it's a wonderful place. Yeah, right, a wonderful place where they erase your brain and then put in it what they want. Why? You can't do anything about it."

"Probably not, but I can find out if you're telling me the truth or not. Did he say anything else about it?"

"No. Well, he did say it took about an hour for them to bring him back. He knew that because he wanted to be back home before dinner so he could say the prayer before they ate. He said they started about four and he got home at a little before five and he got to say the prayer."

"Did Jeremy live close to your house?"

"Yes, two blocks away."

"So, maybe an hour or so from your house?"

"I suppose so."

"Well, let's go see if we can find the barn."

I pulled up the global map website on my laptop and typed in Chastity's address. An hour on the road would be probably forty or fifty miles, so I used the distance tool to draw a circle of fifty miles radius with Chastity's house as the center.

The suburbs filled up most of the circle, but there was one section to the east that was pretty empty of houses. I scrolled over to that area and then zoomed in a little and started scrolling again.

The barn was there, just like Chastity had said. The cross was white and under it were the words, "CONFESSION WILL SET YOU FREE". There were four other buildings beside the barn. They looked like the old, run-down motels you sometimes still see along the older highways in the state - tiny little houses that only have one room and a bath.

They could have been houses for chickens or something else, but I'd only seen buildings surrounded by a chain link fence with barbed wire on top in a few other places. One was at a military prison where I'd been temporarily stationed before going into Special Forces. The other was a POW camp in Iran when I was there during the war. The words on the barn roof were a little too close to the words on the main gait at Auschwitz too.

I looked at Chastity.

"See that fence and the barbed wire? I think I believe you."

"I thought you didn't care."

I closed the laptop and then looked at Chastity.

"Chastity, I do what I do because people want their kids back and they'll pay me to make that happen, but I lied when I said I don't care about them. I get emails from some of those families saying their kid has turned his or her life around and they're a family again.

"That's just as important to me as the money because of my background. I grew up in the city not very far from where I found you, so I know what life there is like. It makes me feel good to know I got some kid out so they can make something of themselves. The emails tell me most do and that tells me I've done something good.

"I won't feel good about you if what you say will happen does happen. Nobody should be able to tell anybody what to believe, much less do anything to make them believe like they want. That goes against everything I believe and everything I've lived for. I won't take you back if it means something like that, but I need to know for certain."

"I don't know how you're going to find out for certain. They'd never let you in there and tell you what they do."

I smiled.

"No, probably not, but I might have another way."

I opened my laptop again and pulled up my email. I hadn't used the email address for three years, so I hoped Tom hadn't changed it.

Tom Jackson was one of my instructors in Special Forces school, and when the war started he shipped out to Iran with my unit. We became pretty good friends. Once the war was over, Tom got out of the Army and went to work for the FBI. I didn't know what he was involved in there because he wouldn't tell me, but I hoped he might have some information about a farm with a cross painted on the barn.

His answer came the next afternoon.

"Hey there, Asshole. I thought you'd probably got your sorry ass shot by a jealous husband and that's why I haven't heard from you. I hope you're doing fine and getting yourself fucked on a regular basis.

"I can't tell you much about the place you described because it's classified, but I do know about it. For a while, they were on our watch list of suspected domestic terrorists. That's because the place is run by an ex-CIA agent who was involved in some right-wing protests that got out of hand and some people got hurt. We put them on a different list after we learned what he was really doing.

"Like I said, what he's doing is classified so I can't tell you that. Sorry.

"By the way, I was thinking about you the other day. Remember those training sessions when I taught your class about interrogation? You never did learn how to interrogate anybody worth a shit did you? I should have failed your sorry ass, but it looked like we were going to war. I figured if I failed you, you'd get to stay home, play guard, and fuck my girlfriend while I was over there sweating my balls off. If I passed you, you'd get your ass shot off and I'd have my girlfriend all to myself, so I let you pass.

"Well, sorry I couldn't be more help, but you know how the government works. You keep your shit wired tight and your dipstick wet and stay in touch.

"Tom"

Chastity had been reading over my shoulder.

"Well, he wasn't any help."

I looked back at her and grinned.

"Oh yes he was. He told me everything I need to know about your Bible Camp."

"But he said that was classified and he couldn't tell you."

"Yes he did, but that paragraph about him teaching an interrogation course -- that was it. Part of that course was the techniques and results of some pretty severe brainwashing. He was reminding me of that as a way of telling me what goes on at that farm."

"So you believe me now."

"Yes. Now, I just have to figure out what to tell your father and what to do with you once you heal up. You have any ideas?"

Chastity grinned.

"This place is a mess. Could you use a maid?"

"No. I couldn't afford to pay you."

She frowned.

"I don't know then. I wish I could just be somebody else. I wish I had some different clothes too. These were Trixie's but they were the first thing I could grab that night. I need some shoes too...and some underwear would be nice."

Well, that explained why Chastity's tits were pushing out the front of the blouse so much. I hadn't really looked the night I'd brought her out, but I'd been looking since. She had to leave the top three buttons of the blouse undone because there was no way she could get them buttoned around her tits. It also explained why her jeans looked so baggy.

"We'll get you some clothes as soon as you don't need your feet bandaged. Until then, I'll give you some T-shirts and some of my boxer shorts. They won't fit, but they'll cover you up."

"That's not all I need. In about three days, I'll have my...I'm going to have another problem clothes won't fix."

"What?...Oh...that problem."

"Yeah, that problem."

I waited until four in the morning to drop by the local Walmart. Chastity had given me the brand of the tampons she used and I picked up four boxes. I didn't want to have to do it again. I was glad there was a self-checkout.

I put off talking to Chastity's father for two days. The easy way was to tell him she was dead. That's what Chastity wanted. She was worried that as long as her father thought she was alive, he'd still try to find her. I had to find a way to convince him she was never coming back.

I was trying to think of a way when Chastity and I ate dinner that night. It was hard enough just to sit there and eat, let alone think. My T-shirt didn't fit Chastity anywhere except around the bust and since she didn't have a bra, that fit kept pulling my eyes from my plate to her chest. It had been that way since she walked into the kitchen in my T-shirt and a pair of my boxer shorts. The shorts fit better, but that was only because her ass was wider than mine and the way they fit her was really interesting too.

She caught me looking and frowned.

"You're looking at me like the guys looked at the girls at Lady Madison's."

"No I'm not."

"Yes, you are."

She grinned then.

"I didn't say I didn't like it, just that you were looking."

"Maybe I was, but what I'm really trying to do is think of a way to convince your father you're not coming back.

Chastity pulled a small, gold ring from the little finger of her left hand.

"I've been thinking about that too. Tell him I'm dead and give him this. My grandma gave it to me a long time ago. He knows I'd never sell it or give it to anybody."

"You sure you want to give it up? I can't very well show it to him and then take it back."

Chastity smiled.

"Grandma was a lot like me. She ran away from home when she was sixteen and married her boyfriend. She always told me to do what was in my heart and not what other people said I should do. She gave up everything to do that, just like I gave up everything but her ring to go into the city. If losing the last thing I have left from her means I'm free to do what I want, it'll be worth it and she'd understand."

The next day, I drove to Reverend Meadow's house and knocked on the door. He smiled when he opened it, but then frowned.

"Where is she? I don't see her in your truck."

"Sir, I don't know how to make this easy so I won't try. Chastity won't be coming home. She's still in the city...she's dead."

"I don't believe you."

"I don't have any reason to lie to you, Sir."

"If that's true, what happened? How did she die?"

"I found her like I said I would. She was working in a place where men paid to...well, you've probably heard of places like that."

"You don't have to tell me the rest. I can imagine what she was doing. I told her mother that was probably what would happen to her."

"Well, she did want to leave with me, if that's any consolation, but when we left the place, one of the other women saw us and told the man who runs it. He chased us to the hole in the fence I made to get in, but just before we got there, he started shooting at us with a shotgun. If Chastity hadn't been behind me, we'd both have been killed. She was though, and she stopped the buckshot that would have killed me.

"I took care of the guy and then tried to help her up, but she was ...I don't want to tell you how bad she was hurt, but there was no way she was going to live. I saw men in Iran who weren't hurt as bad but still died.

"Before she died, she asked me to tell you she was sorry for what she did, and she asked me to give you this."

I took the ring out of my breast pocket and handed it to him. He took it and then frowned.

"Probably for the best. My congregation thinks Chastity is doing missionary work in Columbia. If she did come back and they found out what she's really been doing, they'd leave my church and I'd lose my income. This way, I can say she decided to stay there and continue her work."

I toyed with the idea of asking him for the second half of my money. I wasn't going to keep it. I thought Chastity could use the money to make a new start someplace. A second before I was going to say I'd found her and it wasn't my fault she'd gotten killed and I still wanted paid, he looked me in the eyes.

"You don't expect to be paid now, do you? Our agreement was for you to bring her back and you didn't."

"Well, Sir, like I said, I couldn't bring her back."

"You could have brought back her body. At least that way I could have told my congregation she was killed in Columbia doing God's work and had a funeral. That would give them a higher opinion of me and my family."

I was getting pissed at the guy. The self-righteous bastard didn't really care what happened to Chastity as long as it didn't embarrass him. I was certain then that what Chastity had said was true. If I had brought her back, he'd have sent her off to be brainwashed into a mindless robot who'd do whatever he told her to do.

"Sir, I didn't want to have to tell you this, but the guy was pretty close and the buckshot nearly cut her in half. If I'd tried to pick her up..."

I watched him for any sign of grief or shock after that statement, but I didn't see any. He just stared at me for a second, and then said, "I think you need to leave now."

Two weeks later, I took Chastity shopping in a town two hours away from where I lived. She came back to my place with a bunch of new clothes and three pairs of shoes. It put a dent in my cash, but she wouldn't be parading around my house in the T-shirts that had bumps where her nipples were or the boxer shorts that sometimes showed me the crack of her ass.

It was time to tell her she had to leave, but I was having a hard time doing that. Once she knew her father wasn't looking for her anymore, she relaxed a little and started doing little things that caught my eye.

The refrigerator got cleaned and the kitchen floor got mopped. The dust on my TV disappeared, and the bathroom looked spotless. She was also getting friendly, a lot more friendly than I thought I wanted.

The fact I had Chastity stashed in my house didn't mean I could stop working. I continued to get emails from other parents, and even one from a man who said his wife had gone into the city and he wanted her back. I spent most days either answering those emails or getting information about the kids I'd agreed to track down.

The first time Chastity came into the living room while I was working, she said she'd made lunch if I was ready. Her nipples were trying to poke holes through one of my T-shirts. I didn't think much about the lunch. After all, she had to eat too so making another sandwich was pretty easy. I was thinking about her tits and nipples though. When she walked back into the kitchen, I was thinking about her ass because my boxers had slipped down and the crack of her ass was showing. The dinner she fixed us probably tasted good. I don't remember because I kept wondering how her nipples would taste.

After she got up before I did the next morning, made coffee, and was sitting at the table when I walked into the kitchen, I started to wonder how her pussy would taste. She was slumped down in the chair and my boxers had ridden up into her crotch. I was sure one of her pussy lips was peeking out at me.

She looked up at me and smiled.

"I know how to make pancakes and you have some mix and some syrup. Want some for breakfast?"

By the time her feet had healed up pretty well and we'd gotten her some clothes, I was starting to feel uneasy. I mean, I liked not having to cook and clean, and Chastity was good at both, but I'd gotten used to being alone. I had to remember she was there if I wanted to sit on the couch in my shorts and have a couple of beers before bed.

Then there were her baths. She usually took a bath every other night except for that week when she had her problem. Then it was every night, and once she'd finished her bath, she'd walk through the living room where I was watching TV. She had to do that to get to the spare bedroom. She didn't have to do it wrapped in a towel with most of her slender legs and her soft shoulders showing. She could have taken a change of T-shirts and boxer shorts in the bathroom with her, but she never did.

Once she'd dressed again, she'd come back into the living room and watch TV with me for a while, except I couldn't really get into the program again. My boxers were a silky material that seemed to ride up Chastity's thighs when she slouched down on my couch. Every once in a while, I'd get a glimpse of fine, blonde hair sticking out of the leg of those boxers.

I've had my share of women, and if any one of them had done what Chastity did, I wouldn't have been backward about taking it further. With Chastity I couldn't. It wasn't that I hadn't thought about it. After she'd gone to bed, I'd thought about it and jacked off more times than I care to tell about. I was getting more used to her but more uncomfortable by the day.

At dinner, two days after our shopping trip, I asked Chastity what she wanted to do now that she was pretty much free from her parents. She looked at me for a second and then said, "I want to stay here."

She wasn't smiling and she wasn't grinning. Her face looked...hopeful is how I'd describe it.

"Chastity, I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why not? I can take care of all the other things while you work."

"Don't you have anything you'd like to do with your life?"

"Yes."

"Well, what things would you like to do?"

"You wouldn't understand."

"Try me."

Chastity looked at her empty plate for a second, then looked back up at me.

"Ever since I was a little girl, I've dreamed about the day I could have a family of my own. When I played with my dolls, I was their mother, and I took care of them just like I imagined I'd take care of my babies when I grew up. Grandma understood that, because that's how she was too. When I went to visit her, she'd tell me all about how to take care of babies.

"When I was at that age, my mother told me about boys and what they would want to do. She said it was a sin to do that unless it was to make a baby and an even worse sin if I did it before I was married. Grandma told me a different story. She said it was a wonderful thing that I should save for a man I loved, but that once I found him, it was something we should do a lot because it was a way to show each other how much in love we were. She also told me I shouldn't tell my mother and father about our talks. She said they wouldn't understand because my father and mother were in love with their church and not with each other.

"My father wouldn't let me go out with boys, so I had to just imagine how it would be to be with one. I imagined a lot. I imagined my husband coming home from work and eating the dinner I fixed. I imagined going for walks in the park with him. I imagined going to bed and doing what Grandma called making love. She never said 'having sex' like my mother. She always said 'making love'.

"I'm twenty now, and I'm still imagining how those things would feel. I thought since in the city nobody tells you what you can and can't do, I might find out, but I was wrong. They still tell you what you can and can't do, and what they want you to do is dirty and awful. All I've ever wanted to do is feel how it feels to be married and have a family because it's what I've dreamed about so long."

She smiled.

"Pretty crazy, huh? I should be wanting something else like a nice place to live and money to spend."

"No, not crazy. A little simplistic maybe, but not crazy. The problem you're going to have is you can't find that guy if you're staying here with me."

Chastity looked down at her plate again.

"What if that guy is you?"

You could have hit me with a ball bat right then and I don't think I'd have felt it.

"Me? Chastity, I'm not the kind of guy you want. You're just thinking that because I helped you out."

She looked back up.

"That's what I thought too, for a while, but then I noticed you watching me all the time and I started watching you too. Rich, you're not a man my father and mother would approve of. You swear all the time and you drink beer and what you do to make money is something most men would think is terrible. Grandma told me not to look at what a man does and says. She said I should look to see how he treats other people. She said if he treats other people like he cares about them, he'd care about me too.

"If you didn't care about me, you wouldn't have done what you did, not the part about taking me out of the city, the part about letting me stay here and taking care of me and telling my father I was dead so he'd leave me alone. You've done everything you could to make me feel safe and to feel like I wasn't alone. You said you care about the other people you've helped too, and I believe that.