The v Girl (2 page)

Panic rushes cold through my veins. Have they seen me? Does the splashing come from Starvillers hiding from the shots as well?

For a moment, there’s only silence. Then another shot startles me, and I fight my body to keep calm. I swim as fast as I can, not caring about silence anymore. Better to put distance between myself and my possible enemies.

The current makes my escape slow. I reach a point where I can hide behind a trunk.

Then I see him.

A young man, so tall and built that for a moment, I think he’s Sasquatch minus the fur. No one in Starville, not even Rey, is so burly. Strong muscles reveal years of military training and hint at the drug use that makes Patriot soldiers so inhumanly tall and massive. Long wet strands of blond hair run down his broad back giving him a leonine look. The tattoos on his back tell me he has been in combat and deserves respect.

A soldier! He seems to be alone.

My stomach clenches in panic and my heart beats at top speed. Soldiers are sadistic giants and killing machines. The tonics they use to build their muscles make them extremely dangerous, violent, and horny.

I lose sight of him for a moment. He emerges in a different spot where the water is deep. The Sasquatch is so tall that the water covers only up his waist while he’s standing. He must be at least seven feet tall and without a doubt, the strongest soldier I’ve ever seen. When he moves, I can see his private areas. Every part of him is enormous.

The soldier doesn’t seem to be in attack mode. He’s inclined and rubbing foam around his massive torso. He’s bathing.

The possibility of being discovered, with no one to witness when he rapes me makes the hairs on the back of my neck prick. I could wait for him to go, but what if they plan to camp here? I won’t wait for the coast to be clear, risking discovery and gang rape.

I force myself to remain focused. I suspect he has a reason to be unbothered by the shots. If
he’s
not startled, it’s likely that whoever’s making the racket will take his side. I consider attacking him while he’s naked. I’ve been practicing knife throwing with my rebel group. But, Sasquatch’s nakedness and apparent relaxed behavior are deceiving. I’m armed while bathing, so he probably is too. And what if he alerts his companions? I don’t stand a chance fighting against a trained unit of steroid-injected soldiers.

He’s blocking the safer spot to get out of the river. There’s a gargantuan rock behind him that reaches not far from where I’m hiding. If I could climb it unseen, I could get back to where my clothes are and escape. The only other option is to swim to the other side, where the current is too strong. At this moment, my only advantage is my knowledge of the hiding places in this river.

The soldier frequently submerges and emerges for several minutes. My eyes open wide when I see that Sasquatch’s leonine face looks incredibly sad. Sadness isn’t an emotion I associate with soldiers.

When he rubs his face with foam and closes his eyes, I silently approach the lower part of the current and climb the rock.

I put my foot on the base of the rock. It’s smooth and slippery. There are few places to put my fingers and climb on, but I manage to climb my way up.

When I’m almost at the top, I toss my knife over the rock to free my hands. From here I see the soldier is all by himself.

The higher I climb, the less visible I become to him.

Sasquatch is back under the water now and hasn’t resurfaced for a while. In spite of the danger, I gawk, impressed by his lung capacity.

He finally emerges to take air, but I hide until he goes back under. I’m close to my goal when my feet become slippery traitors.

I fall to the water below me.

Butt first. Straight toward the soldier’s head.

Chapter 2

My butt hits what
I think is the soldier’s face, and I rebound directly into the river’s current.

Something pulls me to the surface. The soldier, blinded by soap and startled by my sudden appearance, is already in defense mode.

One of my thigh razors has disappeared. I try to get away and reach for my only weapon, but strong arms catch me from behind, suffocating me.

He doesn’t have a weapon other than his powerful body, but he has the advantage of drug-induced strength and military training.

Our naked bodies are slippery as I writhe to escape his hold. I use my wet skin and shorter height to my advantage and free myself from his embrace. I disappear under the water.

Adrenaline and terror make me faster. I swim to the other side against the current. Disoriented by murky waters, I don’t get too far.

The soldier finds me, grabs my feet, and suddenly I’m struggling with him again in the same position this started. This time, the water doesn’t cover my torso.

As we struggle with each other, one hand finds my left breast and squeezes it. He freezes for a second, as though surprised. That second is all I need to launch for a kick in his groin. But before I reach it, he grabs my arms violently and forces me to face him.

If the Sasquatch-like soldier finds my nude body tempting, his face doesn’t show it. He seems to care for nothing except winning this fight.

“You …” His voice is menacing and accented. The scent of alcohol radiates from his mouth, and his nose bleeds. “Why do you stalk me?”

I pant, unable to respond.

Stalk him? What’s he talking about?

He loses his temper at my silence. “Talk. Or I’ll kill you,” he yells.

My mind works at full speed. Unarmed and drunk. That’s all I need to know.

I kick him in his balls that are hard as steel. I do little damage. He’s inhumanly resistant. Although he bends in pain for brief seconds, he keeps one of his hands on my wrist and squeezes it hard.

I cry out in pain. I lost the opportunity to knock him out while he was bent over. He grabs my other wrist and avoids the kicks I throw at his groin.

Sasquatch realizes he has the advantage here, and his grip on one of my wrists relaxes a little bit. Then, as though he has just become aware of my nakedness, his eyes travel all over my body. For a brief moment, I see the shock in his blue eyes as they melt into an entirely different expression.

His eyes darken. I can see something inside them that makes me blush. I feel the urge to cross my arms over my chest to cover my breasts with my arms. Surprisingly, he allows it, without taking his eyes off of me.

“You have … you have an incredible body,” he says, panting.

I’m paralyzed and unable to think straight. I would’ve preferred it if he had gone in for the kill. Instead, he seems to want to force the thing I have hoped to avoid: a violent sexual debut.

I won’t submit without a fight. At this moment, his lust is getting him distracted. I have to figure something out.

He mutters something quietly while his enormous hands slowly approach my face. It sounds like
so pretty
, but it could be something else. My body stiffens, but I find my voice.

“Don’t touch me,” I say firmly.

To my amazement he stops. Our bodies are so close that my bare skin almost touches his.

His lower part draws my attention, and I notice something that takes me out of my trance. A bulging piece of veiny flesh, ready for action.

No!

I’m terrified now. This has to stop.

Using both of my hands, I grab his considerable length and twist. Forcefully. He doesn’t double his body, but I’m convinced he’s in pain. I free myself from his stone-like grip and escape as fast as the water permits me. Soon, I’m at the river’s edge.

I’m running at top speed when I turn to see him. Sasquatch stands in the river current, staring at me intently. He shows no intention to chase after me, but I can’t let my guard down. Even for a soldier, he’s remarkably strong and resistant. I applied all my force, and I’m not weak. I need to hurry.

Soon, I’m where I left my backpack. I manage to put on my t-shirt, pants, and boots while I’m still fleeing. Terror keeps me from even taking a breath. My only thoughts now are of getting away and making sure that my family is safe.

My clothes get wet from my soaking body and hair. Scrambling up the river bank, with the stickiness of my wet clothes against my skin, I spare a brief glance over my shoulder. No signs of the soldier.

Climbing up the hill,
I reach a winding, stone path and finally catch sight of Starville’s trash-filled sidewalks. I don’t see any sign of recent fights, which only adds to my confusion and fear.

I run down the path toward town, letting gravity pull me faster.

People look calm, no more stressed than other times. Some Starville riders pass me by. Their horses are prancing placidly. If the animals are not scared, I shouldn’t be either.

I haven’t imagined the shots, have I? I ask the first stranger I see what’s going on. He looks at me dismissively. “The soldiers got drunk, played with their guns, and lit fireworks. Aren’t you Leila Velez?”

“Lila,” I say reflexively, still searching for sense in his words. The occupation soldiers are men close to retirement. With age, their bodies can’t tolerate the drugs, so they turn to alcohol, and when they’re drunk, they play with fire. Literally. Did I put myself through all that anguish for fireworks?

Sensing my confusion, he adds before walking away, “A reception for the Accord cops.”

Annoyed, I spit on the ground. I despise cops as much as I hate Patriot soldiers. Accord cops are ex-soldiers from foreign armies. That explains my opponent’s accent and the alcohol breath. Sasquatch can’t be older than thirty. His long hair and build are not common among cops, so I mistook him for a soldier. I should’ve known. A soldier wouldn’t have stopped when I said no. An Accord cop, maybe.

I walk home along Numbers Avenue, mumbling angrily. As usual, Starvillers murmur and stare when I pass them, but I’m too annoyed at the cops to care. How idiotic to use fireworks when the sun is still high.

The Accord cops are ex-soldiers who are part of an organization of “neutral” countries called UNNO. They come for the recruitment ceremony. The cops verify that Nats and Patriots keep things civilized and respect the international laws on human rights. In addition they provide free medical services, food, medicines, and vaccines when they haven’t drunk too much.

They used to be strong and adequately protected civilians. Nowadays, they’re nothing but drunken guys wearing black armor and red capes who do nothing to stop recruitment. Maybe Sasquatch will point me out to the troops and then pretend he doesn’t see when they attack me. I scowl at the thought.

A rat startles me and I jump as I turn around a corner. I can understand Sasquatch’s urge for a solitary bath away from this stench. If he didn’t look like a soldier, I’d admit the guy’s ruggedly handsome. But because I’m always in danger of rape, all thoughts of him become revolting. I hope against hope that I left him sterile.

A copper-haired Accord cop, who is standing near the Starville canteen, leers at me when I pass him. He looks a lot like a soldier except for his round belly. As I quickly look down, I remember that he’s been in Starville before.

I realize my shirt is plastered against my breasts. I put on my cloak. This public display of my body will cause more rumors about me, but I’m more worried about Sasquatch’s revenge. Something tells me this encounter will haunt me for life.

I cross a bridge before reaching the hill that shelters the multi-family complexes. I always wonder how Starvillers managed to build huts and buildings on such steep, tree-crowded slopes. I’m walking up Judges Avenue, three blocks short of home, when the dog that thinks of the Velez family as
his
pets, hurries toward me. His gigantic body almost throws me to the floor. “How come you didn’t bathe today, huh?” I say, scratching his ears.

Poncho’s a genetically modified dog I found by accident. Someone probably bred him for combat because, like Patriot soldiers, he barely eats and he’s always horny. I trust Poncho better than I trust people. Having him at my side partly dissipates my negative feelings.

I should feel afraid. I feel empowered instead. I managed to escape a potential rapist with links to the troops. Coming out of the encounter with this gorgeous, stronger, naked enemy, unscathed and still a V-girl, turns me on.

I keep feeling mighty and aroused the rest of my way home.

“S
exual intercourse with dubious mutual consent is frequent among other animal species. Why deprive the soldiers of a natural inclination?”

Barnabas Kim. Co-Creator of the DNA Modification Program.

Chapter 3

When I arrive home, I
don’t cross the door into our tiny one-bedroom apartment. To avoid a homeschooling session, I sit on the floor in the hallway. Today’s lesson moves smoothly from Biology to History.

I hear my father’s voice. “We used to call our country
America
. War divided us into two countries. Which ones?”

“Patriot States and Nationalist States, a.k.a. Nats,” answers Olmo in a chiming, cheerful voice.

“They couldn't compromise in the division of territories,” says Dad. “At first, the Nats were winning but the Patriots had the best scientists among them. They provided the Patriots with a lethal weapon: genetically-engineered soldiers.”

My father, being a doctor, likes scientists, but I hate them. A renowned one took a great part in passing the recruitment laws.

“Technological advances were critical for Patriots’ strike back. That’s why technology, science, and most books are forbidden to us.” Dad always tells this story to drill the message in our minds: education is important; knowledge means power. He never mentions that these genuinely educated soldiers were the ones who raped his wife and left him without both of his legs. Besides education doesn’t prevent troops’ superstitions. They claim seers can guess who is or isn’t a V-girl by touching their hips.

I’m sure Olmo watches Dr. Velez attentively with wide eyes while my sister Azalea pretends to listen. That’s until my father asks her to participate.

“Nats made Patriots their slaves when they had the power,” Azalea says, not in the voice of an eleven-year-old, but in the voice of a middle-aged woman who has seen too much. “So, for the troops, every Nationalist’s child deserves punishment.”

That was decades ago. I’m not to blame for whatever Starvillers did back when I wasn’t even born.

“Is that why Patriot soldiers do horrible things?” asks Olmo.

“Don’t be naïve, Olmo. That’s not the only reason,” says Azalea. She has grown up too fast, too soon. In fact, she’s mean when she wants to be, and her voice reflects that.

Dad knows the twins want him to dwell on recruitment-related topics. “Recruitment is their way to exert power and take revenge.”

“But your pills and creams will stop them,” says Olmo cheerfully.

“No. My pills are contraceptives. The creams are to lessen the pain of an attack. However, they intend to see their victims’ pain. They impale them with their male organs and other objects and—” Dad sighs, unsure of how to continue. “So the pills—”

“What does
impale
mean
?” asks Olmo, whose imaginative, naïve nature doesn’t belong to these dangerous times.

Dad calculates his answer. “To pierce with a sharpened object.”

Olmo giggles. Obviously he doesn’t grasp how repulsive the subject is.

In contrast, Azalea is aware of what is at stake with recruitment. Too aware. “Let’s see if you find impaling amusing when they’re doing it to you.”

“Me? That’s impossible,” says Olmo blithely.

“Not impossible. They abuse children, too,” says Dad patiently.

A few of the luckiest families in Starville, the ones who haven’t ever faced rape, might think this is an inappropriate talk between a father and his eleven-year-old children. But the twins have witnessed recruitment and death. During the war, you can’t protect children from the cruelest facts of life.

Dad thinks his honesty prepares them for the worst, but he’s wasting his time. Olmo has the purity of a toddler seeing the word for the first time. War realities won’t reach him where he lives: a self-created world, full of puerile delusions. Azzy is extraordinarily intelligent and probably figured out the worst war realities all by herself.

“Someone’s outside,” says Azalea. Poncho and I enter the cracked-walled, barely furnished room.

“Lily! You’re early today!” shouts Olmo excitedly and runs toward me. I lift him and kiss his dark hair. He suffers a rare form of fibrosis that messes with his growth; I’ve seen seven-year-old kids taller than him.

I take off my boots and clean my feet and Poncho’s before walking further into the apartment. We never bring the dirt of Starville into our home.

Olmo pretends to shoot a gun. “Did you hear the shots? It was so exciting!”

Azzy and I exchange knowing looks. Olmo’s delusions make him think of war as a game. Or perhaps his XY chromosomes make him see weapons as toys.

“I didn’t want to interrupt homeschooling,” I lie. Dad insists my siblings should get an education. I insist they should get a gun.

“Are you hungry, Lily?” asks Olmo sweetly. “Oh! Your clothes are wet.”

Dad has a very illegal object in his hands: A solar reader. If soldiers discover it during their usual checks, they’d execute him publically. Patriots only allow us to own and read religious books. He moves the cart that replaces his legs toward me. “Lila, the Accord cops arrived today.”

I blush remembering my naked opponent. “I’ve noticed.”

“This year they’re younger, so try to not catch their attention.”

Too late. My bare butt on the face of one of them makes me more than noticeable. I nod.

“Perhaps it’s time for you to start taking my pills.”

I turn to see him. Does Dad suspect what I am up to? But his eyes only show the pride of a scientific experiment going well. “I finally made my pills and creams work. Safely.”

Dad and his crazy scientist inclinations. He’s been working to extract ingredients from plants to create two kinds of anti-rape pills.

One pill numbs your body. If you put the medicated cream in your most private parts, you’ll get two bonuses: desensitization and lubrication. You won’t feel the whole pain of soldiers forcing themselves inside you. The other pill is a contraceptive. I’ve been taking the pills even before dad considered them safe.

Dad smiles. “We can get more money from selling the pills than your salary, so why don’t you quit your job? Besides, the Accord units will open the clinic soon and pay me a doctor’s salary.”

I shake my head. Dad hopeful face breaks my heart. Leave it to Dr. Velez to expect a change. My dad: the eternal optimist. Most likely, the Patriots will send their own staff and won’t hire my dad. Soldiers and Starvillers only call on my dad’s medical services under extreme circumstances.

“People won’t buy anything coming from us. I’ll keep my Shiloh job,” I say while searching for something to eat.

Dad drops the subject and resumes his lesson. “Mass rape on Nat towns was expected, but when the troops recovered Patriot towns, they didn’t spare Patriot women. Eventually they attacked Patriot men, too.”

The apartment is small, and I’m forced to take part of the lesson. Olmo and Dad have their cots in the room that we use to cook and eat.

“The Patriot politicians wouldn’t risk losing the support of the troops, so they created the visitants service. People on the government payroll to attend the troops. It was controlled: Medical checks, STD vaccination, and birth control. Rape rates went down drastically, but religious groups protested. People didn’t want their tax money spent on prostitution.”

We rarely pay attention to Dad’s history lessons. Biology lessons are great, though. Azzy yawns loudly. Olmo hums happily. I make appreciative sounds while eating some carrots and a soy steak. No doubt a piece Olmo denied himself to have something to give me.

“The troops wouldn’t consider stopping the mass rapes, so a compromise was achieved. Nats would pay the war costs and the right to live in occupied territories with hard labor, including sexual services. The Accord Units would check certain limits were respected, and so the recruitment ceremony was born.”

I hate that my dad’s talking about this subject while I’m eating. Especially since there’s so little to eat.

Begrudgingly, I save some carrots for later. Losing weight before recruitment might help to avoid rape. From the last time there was recruitment in this town to this moment, I’ve blossomed. Soldiers will take the curviest girls first and then underdeveloped girls and boys. My new womanly form isn’t as voluptuous as Elena’s, but it might provoke them. Hopefully, my body might stimulate Rey, too.

Dad wraps up his lesson and prepares to leave. He usually has house calls in the afternoons. Or so he claims. Because in reality, dad’s job is to wait in line at the rationing board office and bring food to the tables. The way he says goodbye to Olmo makes it clear that Olmo is his favorite. I don’t mind because Olmo’s also my favorite. He’s even bitchy Azalea’s favorite.

Azalea has developed a unique awareness and knows about my plans. She blocks my way to our shared room, brandishing a carrot. “Why don’t you just put this inside you and get it over with?”

I sigh. I gave Elena Rivers a display of my patience some hours ago. A family member deserves no less than the same.

“It’d be easier than trying to seduce Rey. He can have any girl he wants, and he keeps saying no, even to Elena. What makes you think he’d say yes to
you?
”

“Mind your own business, Azzy.” She knows troops prefer V-girls, so she should be more supportive.

“What difference would it make? You don’t want the troops to find you a
virgin
, right?”

I cringe at the insult but don’t answer. Everything you say—and even what you don’t say—to Azalea can be used against you.

She smiles wickedly. “You’re wasting your time by trying to make your first time memorable. You won’t enjoy sex unless you can get into a romantic scenario.”

“I’m not romantic.”

“No? Haven’t you always wanted to find what mom and dad had? Then get married? Then reproduce like a bunny?”

She’s wrong. That was before they raped our mother. Now I shudder at the idea of love. Troops will hurt who and what I love the most. Dad lost the love of his life to the Patriot forces, and I won’t suffer like him. Love and marriage are out of my agenda until the day the war stops. But I can at least get lust, affection, and more importantly: mutual consent.

Azzy’s
green eyes look through me and read my mind. “So you’re gonna go all the way to avoid falling for someone? You think having sex will help?”

I try to pass her. “Not really. There’s not enough men and the good ones are already taken.”

“You didn’t even share your plans with Rey, did you? Are you gonna get him drunk?”

If I give him a chance to think about it, he won’t do it. I have to play this by surprise. Appeal to his physiological needs. It’s been a while since Angie broke up their engagement.
I can’t imagine Joey going a year without sex with Divine.
Rey must need sex right now.

I shake my head.
“
Who knows?
Surprise might be the greatest aphrodisiac.”

“Not for Rey,” she retorts.

I shut my ears as she tries to convince me to desist in my schemes.
I don’t respond; I let her rant for a while.

“It won’t take long for you to get your period so you should be nicer to me,” I say acidly. “I won’t help you with Poncho when the time comes.”

She gives me her trademark
you’re-so-stupid
look, sighing in exasperation.

I snap my fingers and Poncho attacks Azzy’s leg.

Azzy is unfazed. She knows how to deal with Poncho with dignity. Giving her a vindictive smile, I take advantage of the distraction to enter our room.

* * *

In front of the mirror, I peel off my wet clothes and take a long moment to stare at my naked figure. My skin color is uneven. It’s tanned in my arms and face. It’s pale in the rest of my body except for the soft pink area of my breasts. My hands touch my breasts and slide over my stomach, down to both of my hips. In
spite of the training and limited diet, there’s unwelcome fat in certain body parts where fat doesn’t look good. At least I look well-shaved.

I remember the way the Accord cop caressed my skin with his eyes. I’ve never thought eyes could touch my body in that way. My hands slide over my body again, echoing the way his eyes did.

Before my bath today, I couldn’t stop thinking about Rey. Now, remembering the naked cop, I’m in a weird mood. I’ve seen penises before, but never one so close or so ready. Such a strong, powerful man and still he seemed affected by me. I’m used to seeing only contempt when boys look at me.

I’d love Rey to look at me that way today since desire is all I can expect from him. We care for each other immensely, but I don’t think either of us wants to have complications like love at the moment. I’m too busy trying to earn the bread I eat and hiding my tendencies. Rey’s the bread-earner in his family and the leader of The Comanche Resistance.

I search in my box of treasures, or more exactly, the box where I keep my mom’s clothes and pictures. I don’t have sexy clothes. Mom’s old school uniform will have to do. Most girls my age don’t dress well. We bind our chests with bandages and wear long cloaks. Partly because the abrupt weather changes. Partly to prevent provoking someone with our bodies. It doesn’t always work. Rey’s ex-fiancée tried to avoid recruitment by hiding her beauty and getting a marriage tattoo. Even so, soldiers made a meal of raping her in public.

I won’t wear my hideous bra. Instead, I button the white shirt, which is now tight to the chest in a way that enhances my breasts. Looking in the mirror, I knot the silky tie sides of the translucent underwear I’ve made for this occasion. It reveals enough to make me feel sexy but not so much as to embarrass me. If my plans work, his hands on my thighs will go up and reveal my legs and underwear; he won’t care too much for the rest of my outfit. The mechanics of the act shouldn’t be a problem. I’ve seen couples doing it.