In The Heat Of The Night Chapter 2

[talliw]

Title: In The Heat Of The Night Chapter 2
Author: TalliW
Characters: James Lester/Connor Temple
Rating: T
Disclaimer: Primeval is the property of Impossible Pictures. I write just for fun.
Acknowledgments: Thanks to the wonderful Fredbassett for beta duty.
Summary: Lester and Connor have to fight for survival in a future where a climatic catastrophe has drastically changed the world.

The howl of a siren pulled Lester from his slumber. He needed a moment to orient himself. But the depressing surroundings quickly brought the events of the previous day rushing back into his mind.

He and Connor had agreed to integrate in this world until they found an opportunity to leave the camp with enough water and food to last a few days in the wasteland for discovering a way back home. If someone from the camp had taken Connor's backbag maybe they could even get the handheld detector back by then.

Next to Lester, Connor peeked out under the blanket, his face scrunched into a yawn that immediately changed into a grimace of pain as he stretched his arms.

Lester heard the rustle of the other inmates in the room and quickly donned the suit he had hung in one of the lockers the evening before.

Connor, caring a lot less about modesty, slowly got up from the bed and stood there in his boxershorts until Lester snapped at him to get a move on.

Worried, Lester observed how Connor winced while pulling on his trousers. He had spotted a heavy bruise on Connor's right leg and a minor one just above his shirt collar and he assumed the rest of Connor's body didn't look any better. Every move seemed to hurt him. Connor needed a long time to put all his clothes on.

Lester groped about in his trouser pockets and heaved a sigh of relief as his fingers closed around the package of Ibuprofen. It was pure luck he had picked up a brand new package out of his medicine cabinet at home yesterday morning in case his migraine struck again. Connor probably would need every single tablet later.

To Lester's surprise, Roger handed him two tags stating afternoon shift, even though they had been one of the last to come to the Counter. This would give Connor a longer time to recover. But Lester knew it wouldn't be nearly enough. No one could take such a heavy beating in his stride.

Connor had got the easy task of sieving through the sand for tiny gems the coarser sieves might have missed. It seemed Roger had put a word in for them here as well.

From his assigned work place, Lester had free sight of Connor. In the bright daylight the red bruise on Connor's left cheek Lester hadn't noticed before was now clearly visible. The black headband set with a magnifying glass and the white hard hat they had to wear only accentuated how badly the young man had been battered.

Feeling the strong impulse to sweep the ugly hard hat from Connor's head, Lester turned away and directed his attention back to his work.

He hadn't expected that there would ever come a time when he might miss Connor's former trademark, one of his ever-present hats. But if he remembered correctly then Connor hadn't worn one of his hats since he and Abby had returned from the Cretaceous.

With the hat had also gone the last shreds of Connor's youthful exuberance. It seemed to have been ages since Connor had made jokes or babbled enthusiastically about one of the technical marvels he'd created. Only now did Lester realise how much Connor had really changed after Cutter's death. Even Connor's hands, always covered in gloves in the past, were now bare.

"Oi, you, newcomer. Not so fast or you’ll run out of steam before the shift ends," someone called from behind.

The black man to his right mumbled, "Aside from that you’re making us look lazy."

Lester slowed his pace and earned the satisfied murmurs of his new co-workers.

"Hey, newcomer, I heard your boy got it bad from Johnson," said a  man who looked like a hippie when he approached him a little later. "If you need medical help I've studied four terms of medicine and can treat all common injuries."

"Thanks for the offer. I'll keep it in mind," Lester answered politely, not liking the attention he was suddenly getting.

"I charge only a third of the price the doctor does. And I even make home visits. Just send for Timmy and I’ll come. Don't forget, name's Timmy."

The guy grinned like a lunatic before he wandered off and Lester hoped that they could afford a real doctor if they got seriously sick.

To his own astonishment, Lester enjoyed the work. Shoveling sand on a sieve was most certainly not an intellectually demanding task but feeling his muscles ripple and flex while he could let his thoughts run free was a rather nice experience. He wouldn't do it for a living, but for a change a monotonous job without any responsibility and stress had its merits.

Nevertheless, Lester was glad for the break two and half an hour later. Unused to physical work his muscles had started to protest.

Connor was faring far better despite his battered condition. He had learnt to endure pain in the Cretaceous where running away and climbing a tree with an injured leg had been his only chance of survival.

"Connor, if it gets too bad... I've got painkillers," Lester said to the young man who clumsily heaved himself up, deliberately ignoring Lester's proffered hand.

"Spare them for emergencies. I'll manage without. It isn't as if I've never been hurt before."

That had been said without any hint of accusation but even so, Lester felt a pang of conscience at Connor's words. How often had Connor suffered the consequences of one of Danny's reckless plans and Lester had studiously avoided acknowledging the bruises Connor had received?

It was easier to believe Connor was a clumsy fool than to live with the uncomfortable truth that he'd hired an incompetent team leader. Captain Wilder would have been a bad choice for the job for a number of reasons but at least he would have kept the civilians out of the danger zone.

"Connor, your whole body is bruised. Don't try to play the hero. It's a brand-new package of Ibuprofen. So I can afford to give you some."

"I’ll tell you if it gets too painful," Connor said with an attempt at fortitude.

"Connor!"

"I react badly to Ibuprofen, okay? If you think I look shitty right now then you should see me after I've taken Ibuprofen."

"Damn!" Lester cursed. Was there an over the counter drug the boy wasn't allergic to?

"Hey, newcomers, hurry up. The food counter isn't open all day."

Lester looked over to the men who had already sat at the green plastic tables, a plate of food in front of each one.

The smell of roasted meat wafted over from there, making Lester and Connor realise how hungry they really were.

"Next time move faster or you’ll get nothing," the guy at the food servery said furiously. It seemed Roger's authority did not reach this far.

The man quickly dumped a ladleful of mash, a slice of braised meat and two scoops of gravy onto a plate and handed it Lester. Then he repeated the whole process but hesitated marginally before he passed Connor his plate. Lastly he plonked two bottles of water on the counter. With a spiteful look at Connor, he pushed the counter window down.

"I think that was one of the bullies who attacked me yesterday," Connor whispered to Lester.

"That isn't good. It looks like he still harbours a grudge against you. Be careful not to provoke him again."

At this Connor got agitated. "I never provoked him at all. I just stood there and took a look around."

"Of course." Lester muttered, making it sound as if he was doubting Connor's statement even though he guessed that the young man had probably spoken the truth.

"You didn't make friends with Fat Ed with your dawdling," the black man from earlier said as Lester sat down at the table.

"I don't think that made any difference," a pale-faced man in his thirties argued. "Johnson's gang has it in for the boy since he arrived. Carver said something about the boy's manner ticking Johnson off."

Connor had heard the last two sentences and looked pointedly at Lester.

"Stop chatting and you, boy, sit down. Meal break is over soon," an amazing large muscled man admonished from further down the table.

Connor and Lester ignored their former dispute in favour of filling their stomachs like the rest of the men. With every bite traveling down their throats they felt their spirits returning.

All of sudden, Lester received a nudge against his elbow

"That meat ain't no bad, ey, newcomer?" the old man, sitting to Lester's right said with a toothy grin.

"Gimpy, leave the newcomer alone and eat!"

Grumbling under his breath the man called Gimpy pushed his last piece of meat into his mouth and chewed, open-mouthed.

"Ey, newcomer, pass me the salt," someone shouted.

Lester had had enough. "I have a name and it’s most certainly not newcomer," he declared in frustration while he shoved the salt-shaker into the middle of the table.

"Okay, mate, calm down. He meant no harm," the black man said placatingly. "So tell us, what should we call you?"

"Lester will be fine. And the young man on my left is Connor."

"Good, so Lester and Connor it is. I'm Ben. That's Morris, Ripper, Jailbird, Gimpy, Andrews, and the big lump of a man over there is Lem. Quack Timmy you’ve already got to know, I assume."

Lester nodded. "Nice to meet you," he said to everybody around the table before he turned his attention back to his plate.

"Meal break is up," Fat Ed announced over a speaker.

The men who hadn't finished their meal yet quickly shoveled the rest of the food into their mouths, their cheeks bulging like hamsters.

Connor and Lester, used to working and eating under time pressures, had already emptied their plates, and followed Ben and Lem back to the workplace. They had still two and an half hours to go until the shift was over.

Lester stretched his limbs and turned his neck from side to side, enjoying the feeling of his taut muscles relaxing. The five hours of work that had first seemed like a walk in the park compared with his usual working hours had taken its toll on him.

Unused to the dry desert heat, with the sun beating down mercilessly all the time, Lester had started to feel like a chicken on a grill after the first hours.

The sweat pouring out of his pores had turned the blue work uniform into hot, wet rags and the baking desert air, enriched with sand, had irritated his nostrils to the point where his nose had started bleeding.

Despite the fact that they had received two more bottles of water to keep them hydrated, Lester's eyes, lips and skin were thirsting for liquid and he wished he could have a cold shower to wash off the nasty film of sweat and dust now burning on his skin.

There hadn't been a single cloud in the sky the whole day and Lester feared that could be the norm in this area.

"Lester," Connor gasped, his movements rigid and uncertain as he walked towards Lester. The full bottle of water in his hand slipped into the sand as his feet gave way.

Lester was fast enough to catch Connor before he could hit the ground. Kneeling on the warm sand, he took Connor's hard helmet off and pillowed Connor's head on his shoulder.

"You brainless idiot," Lester hissed angrily as he grabbed the full water bottle and opened the cap.

"Dehydration, huh?" Ben asked from above. "A lot of newcomers make the same mistake. They think they can ration the water and spare some for later. It never works well. At Garrard we get just enough water to last the five hours of work in the open sun."

"He needs a doctor."

"Not really. Just give him his water and then some more. You can get bottles in the little shop outside the security gate. It’s £3 a bottle. If you don't have money it will be taken into account off your wages."

Connor swallowed the water trickling into his dried-out mouth greedily. A moment ago the world around him had begun to spin and then had gone completely black. 'That's it,' he'd thought before oblivion had consumed him.

"What a stupid thing to do. If you are trying to top yourself you’re going about it the wrong way. There are a lot more effective ways to die."

Hearing Lester's acid words gave Connor the assurance that he was either still alive or had landed in hell to be tormented by the man to all eternity.

"I swear if you scare me like that ever again I will finish you off myself," Lester ranted on.

Connor blanked Lester's next words out and just concentrated on the freshening effect of the lukewarm water sliding down his throat until the bottle was empty.

"Can you stand up? I don't intend to spend the night here."

Connor spared himself the effort of waste energy on giving an answer. Instead, he braced his arms and legs against the ground and wobbled to his feet.

With Lester's support, Connor walked towards the security gate with its examination room they had to pass through.

"About time. What took you so long?" one of the dark-haired men in medical scrubs snarled.

Before one of them could answer, the second man said, "Let it go, Kyle. You know the boy's hurt. It's a wonder he's up to work at all."

"Then he shouldn't pick a fight with the wrong people, should he?"

Seeing the mocking sneer on the other man's face, Connor knew without doubt that he'd just met another of Johnson's gang.

"Okay, drop your clothes. Then stretch your arms out at the side and open your mouth."

"Completely?" Connor asked, startled. Running around in his underwear didn't present a problem for him but showing himself in all his glorious nakedness was another matter. Aside from the fact that he would have trouble undressing with his injuries.

"Of course, or do you have something to hide? A gem in your stink or your tiny prick?" Kyle was goading Connor.

"Kyle! That's enough! Behave and do your work or you can root around in the rubbish mountains in Cornwell again."

The reprimand worked. With a practised eye, Kyle checked Lester's and Connor's mouths and armpits then waited until Lester had dropped his trousers and pants. Connor was still struggling with his zipper.

"Not bad," Kyle mumbled appreciatively as he inspected Lester's penis and fondled his testicles.

Gently, he then pulled the foreskin back and let his fingertip slide around the rim of Lester's glans. "Really not bad," he repeated chuckling as Lester reacted with a shiver.

Connor had put his crossed hands protectively over his crotch, his eyes directed to a point on the grey concrete wall.

His body was littered with bruises of varying sizes. The worst was a large angry bruise above his belly button, reaching almost up to his chest.

Ignoring the young man's injuries, Kyle pushed Connor's hands out of the way and grasped the limp penis to proceed with the standard procedure.

Connor blushed furiously and wished a hole would swallow him up as his dick started to swell when Kyle rubbed roughly over the tip.

"Ey, boy, don't get too excited. I don't care for wimps."

Kyle's mean laughter saw to it that Connor's cock lost its stiffness immediately. But that was only a small consolation for Connor after his body had betrayed him so badly.

"Now bend over the block!"

"What? Afraid I’ll stick more in than my fingers?" Kyle asked as Lester hesitated to follow the instruction.

Lester gave himself a mental shake, full aware that this was some sort of powerplay he had to win.

"No, just worried about the cleanliness of your fingers."

Kyle and the other man laughed out loud at this.

"Lester, right? You can put your mind at rest. Just for you I will put on a new set of gloves."

The rectal examination wasn't any worse than the annual prostate check up his urologist had done since Lester had turned forty. Still the thought of having to endure this daily for a week made Lester cringe.
Next time he would make sure he didn’t end up with Garrard as his employer again.

"Block!" Kyle ordered coldly.

Connor hadn't had an anal examination ever before. But at least he knew that every soldier and most professional athletes had to undergo one during their full body-checkup and that with enough lube to ease the penetration it was bearable.

Unfortunately the concept of using lube seemed to have gone lost somewhere in the future. Also the large green plastic block he had to bend over so his arse lay exposed for everyone to see, didn't look very inviting.

Connor trembled when his arse cheeks were parted and two gloved fingers pushed into his anus and dug around.

It was painful intrusive, and quite unnerving. On top of it all, Connor realised that Kyle was still wearing the gloves he'd used on Lester.

"Don't make such a fuss, boy. I bet you’ve had larger things up your arse."

Kyle's eyes drifted suggestively over Lester, who was just putting his clothes back on.

"I haven’t," Connor hissed, not liking what Kyle was implying. Although he felt still very vulnerable he'd finally mustered up the courage to talk back to the bully.

"Oh really? So you aren't a whore, just a pet boy. Good for you. Examination's finished. They’re clean," Kyle announced with a hard slap to Connor's backside.

Lester and Connor changed silently into their own clothes in the locker room.

There hadn't been a shower stall, just a sink with a few washrags, all already used.

Lester had sacrificed his white handkerchief so Connor could wash his battered body with a clean cloth. Lester himself had used his tie.

"Connor, drink something," Lester said after Connor had finished dressing.

Without protest, Connor fetched one of the five bottles Lester had bought in the shop and took a healthy gulp.

"I'll be okay, Lester. Now stop fussing."

"Me, fussing about you? You really do need your head examined."

Lester spread the wet handkerchief and the tie out on the rack next to the sink while Connor took some more sips from the bottle.

"Lester, drink something." Connor said, matching Lester's words from earlier.

"I bought it for you."

"You need water too. Besides it was your money. Come on, take a sip."

"If you insist. But just one. And then out of here. We both need rest."

The next day started almost the same as the one before, except that Lester was earlier at the counter. Offered the choice, he decided to take the afternoon shift again. At least then they had some time to recover from the precious day.

Connor had learnt from his mistake. He had asked for a bottle of water from his daily entitlement first thing after arriving at the Garrand work place. Now he took small sips of water periodically to keep his body hydrated.

Lester followed suit. It helped him to adjust to the unaccustomed heat but did little for his aching muscles.

But his burning ambition, which had already helped him climb up the greasy pole in the Home Office faster than most others, spurred him on to continue giving his best despite his protesting body.

Fat Ed was a lot more friendly towards Lester at the meal break. To Lester's astonishment he found a second slice of meat on his plate after Fat Ed had already handed him an extra bottle of water.

"Congratulations, you must have impressed the hell out of Kyle. I bet they’ll ask you to join the gang soon," Ben said as Lester sat down next to him.

"That's not really a good thing."

"Oh, I can assure you most people would be glad of such an offer. At least you'll be safe from their attacks now. Although I'm not sure about your boy. Johnson is good at bearing grudges for years."

"Why does the camp put up with those bullies at all?" Lester asked. "If you all stick together you could easily make an end of it."

"What does it matter to me that people have been stupid enough to pick a fight with Johnson and his men? I keep out of their business and they leave me alone."

"Connor hasn't provoked them in any way. But they still worked him over badly."

Ben poked around in his mash to avoid meeting Lester's look.

"A few years ago there was a guy, " he said quietly. "One of the Rushmoor rebels. He spoke just like you. They found him with a cut throat a few weeks after his arrival. Don't make the same mistake. Johnson has more power than you think. If they ask you to join them, remember it's an honour."

"Have they ever asked you to join?

"I'm the wrong colour. Johnson's gang is white. But we have an unspoken deal."

"That you look the other way if someone gets beaten up?"

"That's right. It's better than being on the receiving end of their fists. I have a family to support. I can't risk... "

Ben lapsed into sudden silence as Gimpy neared the table and dedicated himself to his food.

That was warning enough for Lester not to touch the topic again. Pedantically, he cut his extra slice of  meat in four equal pieces.

"Here, I'm not really very hungry."

Ben stared in confusion at the piece of meat Lester had put on his plate. Gimpy smiled thankfully before he stuffed his piece greedily into his mouth. From Connor, Lester received an enquiring look.

"Fool," Lem mumbled further down the table after noticing Lester's action. Morris, Ripper and Quack Timmy nodded their assent.

For the rest of the week Lester received extra meat and water while Kyle's touches during the examination got more extensive than necessary.

Fortunately the gang leader hadn't approached Lester yet. Lester dreaded the day that might happen. He couldn't afford an open confrontation with the gang, knowing that no one would come to his defense despite the fact that he'd built up a fragile friendship with Ben and his colleagues.

Connor and Lester had slept or dozed most of the time until their shift started, glad of every extra hour of rest. They still hadn't found out where the controller for the gate was located but knew now that Connor had arrived in the camp without his backbag.
Beside Mattie everyone else had left them alone. After it had been put about that the gang had an interest in Lester, Lester had assumed that had been Gimpy's work, people hadn't dared to disturb them. The fear of angering a possible future gang member ran deeply.

On Sunday, their last day working for the Garrard company, Ben was waiting for them outside the examination room.

"Ey, Lester, next week, me, Lem, Ripper and Jailbird go back to working for Interserve. Food's better and we get plenty of it with enough time to eat it. Why don’t you join us? We could do with another hardworking man in the shift. Raises the chance of a bonus."

"And Connor?

"He's welcome as well. Wouldn't dream of parting you from him."

"If he’s up to it, I'll come with you. I’ve heard the work there is more demanding."

"There are a few easy jobs as well. If Connor bats his eyes at the foreman he will most certainly get a good one. It worked well with Mattie after all."

"Mattie? The scrawny boy with the shock of dirty blond hair? You know him?"

Ben burst out laughing. "Everyone at the camp knows Mattie. The little camp monkey is our good luck charm."

Connor sat in the shadow of their building, his eyes directed to the glimmer in the desert, caused by the diverging warm air layers.

"How’s working for Garrard been?" Mattie asked with a grin.

"Horrible."

"The examination, the food or the work?"

When Connor chose to remain silent Mattie bent down to him and whispered, "Has Kyle been bothering you? Sexually, I mean."

"No, he had more of a thing for Lester."

"Figures. Most of the gang detest people who sell themselves."

"I'm not a whore," Connor hissed, infuriated that Mattie would think that of him.

"Course not, but we let our keepers touch us in return for protection. That disgusts them. They look down on everyone who doesn't have sex only out of lust or love."

"Speak for yourself. I don't let anyone touch me. And I can protect myself."

Mattie shook his head as Connor stalked away, back into the building to his sleeping place.

"Still in denial stadium then," he mumbled to himself.

"They all think I let you fuck me," Connor hissed at Lester.

From his sleeping place, Lester peered up at the angry young man.

"And what should I do about it? Announce over the speaker that you don't? What do you care what some idiots think? "

"Mattie isn't an idiot and he thinks it too," Connor said in frustration.

"And now?"

"We should separate for a while. I'll move into another building and start working in another shift for another company."

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

"I don't care. You’ve ordered me around all week. Keep quiet! Act natural! Be quick! Drink your water! Go to sleep! That's even worse than all those post-it notes in your flat. I’ve had enough of that. I don't need a nanny. I can take care of myself quite well."

Sighing, Lester looked at the empty place to his left. Connor had switched accommodation with a young man who had received £5 of Connor's wages and a bottle of water for his trouble. The boy had chosen to sleep cramped between the wall and the locker instead of next to him, even though Lester had greeted him in a friendly manner.

Connor bit back a groan as he lifted the heavy box onto the shelf. If that was what they called easy work than he didn't want to know what working for Interserve was like. Although he'd seen Lester from afar a few times, the man hadn't given the impression he was close to collapsing.

He hadn't wanted to go near Kyle ever again, so that had only left Sotheby and Corus for employers as Lester had gone to Interserve with Ben and his mates.

The Corus counter had been surrounded by a lot of people. When Connor spied Johnson among them he had lined up at Sotheby's and soon regretted it.

From the first moment he’d had to fight. For his place in the queue, to keep the tag for the morning shift the other men had wanted to rob from him and for the food and the bottles of water he was receiving whilst working. It seemed Sotheby was the melting pot for all the scum in the camp.

Without Lester as his side, Connor was seen as week. Despite the fact that he had almost given as good as he'd got, the same two men in his shift tried to mug him over and over again.

Quickly, Connor understood why people in the camp formed small groups. Anyone who preferred to stay on his own was an easy target. He had been an idiot to part from Lester. Above all his hasty action hadn't really changed much. People still assumed he had been Lester's fuck toy until recently.

"Look what we have here," Johnson said with false merriment. The brute must have waited for him.

Connor remembered Mattie's advice and looked at the ground. In the hope Johnson would let him pass now he walked on.

"Not so fast, boy. I think we still have a matter to settle between us."

Strong fingers dug into Connor's shoulder quite painfully, stopping him abruptly.

Connor tried to break away from Johnson's grip and received a punch to his kidneys for the attempt.

When Connor fell gasping to the ground, he noticed Mattie standing only a few feet away with a terror-stricken expression. He was gone by the time Connor was dragged up by his hair by one of Johnson's men.

"Let him go!"

"Keep out of it, Lester. This has got nothing to do with you!"

"I said, let him go," Lester repeated with determination.

"Why? Pity for weaklings is a flaw not tolerated in my gang."

"I'm not in your gang."

"But you are a candidate. Do you want to risk that by standing up for a pet boy you sent packing last week? A few of my men had doubts about your worthiness all along. You really want to prove them right?!

"Leave Connor alone. He has done nothing to you or your men."

"His existence is already enough," Fat Ed yelled.

Kyle gave a scornful cackle and high-fived with Fat Ed.

"You see what my men think about it? I fear you have to make a decision. What do you choose? The gang or him?" Johnson asked slyly, feeling very certain in his victory.

"That's not really hard a choice. I would pick him any time over a group of brutes who take delight in beating up innocent people."

Johnson went red with rage. For a brief moment Lester entertained the thought the scumbag would suffer a heart attack. But then Johnson recovered from the shock.

Lester adjusted his stance to prepare for a fight and saw from the corner of his eyes that Lem and Jailbird who he'd now become good friends with were doing the same.

But Johnson didn't want to risk an open attack with all the people gathered around them by now.

"Are you kidding me? You’d really choose this scumbag over us? Well, I'm a man of honour. I will respect your decision. But I can guarantee you one day you will regret it."

Connor stood unsteadily on his legs after Johnson's man had let go of him.

"How are you?" Lester asked.

"I've been better. Thanks, Lester."

"You have to thank Mattie. He called us. In the future be more carefully."

"Lester, wait," Connor called as Lester started walking away. "I'm sick of being alone. Can I come back?"

Ben and Ripper had been standing in the protective shadow of a building during the confrontation between Lester and Johnson. When Lester passed them by with Lem, Jailbird and Connor, Ben mumbled with clear approval, "Not the smartest move but a very brave one." Quietly, so no one but himself and Ripper could hear it, he added, "Let’s just hope you’ll be luckier than the other Rushmoor rebel."