Giant Men and Violent Women

She's Doing What?

ASHLEY

She's fucking the correctional officer. The one in charge of Cabin 5.

Mercer and I see them now. Some of the men of the New Hampshire Army are outside of her cabin, looking in the doorway. Some of them can see her, too.

I brought along Louisiana's brother, Dallas, because Pop said he needed to make his bones. He needs to be toughened up, so we put him to work. He's on the bounty team, rounding up runaway prison workers and lawbreakers of all kinds.

He's in the doorway, smiling at the scene. But this isn't an exhibition that I'm after; it's a lesson. I want these men of the New Hampshire Army to be the first ones to watch both a crime and the justice that comes from it firsthand. I want them to see that prisoner holders aren't always right because they, like prisoners, are humans. Because of that, they're susceptible to failure, and what we're watching now is someone who has failed at The Prison Work Program.

I listened to Presley Ann when she told me that something was going on here, and I'm glad I did. I stumbled on a conversation about a half hour ago that sealed everyone's fate this morning.

Along with Dallas, I convened ten men who are officially members of New Hampshire's Army—men from the mountains of New Hampshire. These are mountain boys I've known all my life, who live outside the city gates of Darling, in the peaks of mountain tops. Boys I played football against in high school, running touchdowns on them every Friday night, while God was sleeping. Boys Mercer and I got into fights with over these football games while we all walked to our team buses to head back to Boston. Boys who eventually became drinking buddies when we all came home from college with sorority-girl stories to tell. Boys who aren't concerned about riches as much as they're concerned about respect. Boys who live on the same land that bred them and contribute to the same communities that raised them. Boys who will never move to the city because they love Friday night high school games, Saturday college football, and their Sunday family dinners too much. Boys who belong to the Rebels for the Revelation league. Boys who work out of law firms located in Victorian houses instead of downtown high-rises. Boys who run their family business because why would they be the boss of a Fortune 500 when they can be the boss in a town of five hundred? Respect over riches. These are New Hampshire boys. Each of them is already trained in hunting and killing, planning and executing. Each of them was more than happy to become members of the New Hampshire Army.

Of course, none of this applies to Louisiana's brother, Dallas. He's a fucking lame. Even after all these years.

This morning, ten men, Mercer, Dallas, and I walked across peach orchards, toward prisoner cabins. The good thing about Darling is that it's in in the mountains, near Righteous Brook. Because of this, a thick mist of fog begins on The Brook and rises to almost cover the tops of cabins. We walked through that fog this morning, which meant one thing—nobody saw us coming. But we're from these mountains, and our eyes are trained to see through the fog. I do not doubt that this strength will be an advantage for us one day, as it is this morning.

This morning, as I watch her with the correctional officer, it dawns on me that I've never had this kind of passion before.

Just think about it. How many people wouldn't hear a door open or see the faint glow of morning's light even if busy in bed? When having sex, your senses heighten because your body is in use unless you're so captivated by the act that your senses shut down. How many people can say that, during sex, they've had their sanities actually shut down? Not many.

These two right here are an exception. It's evident as she bites his shoulder, presses her fingers into his arms, shoves her tongue into his mouth, and tightly wraps toned legs around him that she not only desires him, but also feels like she needs him. Every act of her body shows her need to keep him restrained. This is an animalistic trait that evolution just can't seem to dignify. Sex usually boils down to two body parts interacting with each other.