Farm Boys

No visitors ever came to Kingston.  It looked much like any other

small town, out on the barely civilized western frontier.  Had a

visitor wished to visit Kingston, they would have come over the ridge

into a wide river valley where the town lay.  They would have seen

neat rows of clapboard homes separated by broad leafy streets, a few

of which were even paved.  At the end of town lay a short commercial

street of well-kept brick buildings.  A stable, a garage, a general

store.  At five stories, it loomed over a town where nothing else rose

above two.  This hypothetical visitor might have driven down one of

the streets, watching kids playing, and women in flowered cotton

dresses hanging laundry on the line.

Then the visitor might have felt the ground tremble, just slightly.

He'd feel it again and again, getting stronger.  None of the residents

would be perturbed in the slightest, as if they didn't even feel it.

As the shaking grew stronger, so would the visitor's panic.  Then he

would cry out in alarm as a massive young giant strode into view,

towering high over the treetops.

The giant might be carrying something -- an uprooted tree or two, or

perhaps even a full-sized truck in his massive hands.  Naked to the

waist, his bulging muscles would ripple and flex, glowing in the sun.

The visitor would stand in the middle of the street and gape upwards,

mouth hanging open, until the giant had passed out of sight, his

towering form hidden behind some nearby trees or houses.  None of the

townsfolk would even seem to notice as his majestic bulk thundered

past the town.  They all acted as if this was perfectly normal.

That's because for them, it was.  Kingston had a secret -- all the men

in it could become giants.  Reaching the age of 16 unlocked some sort

of innate size control power in Kingston boys.  It was quite limited,

and the same for every man -- each could become about 40 times his

normal height.  (The exact ratio had been measured once, and it was

actually slightly more, but most of the townspeople just called it an

even forty.)  It was an all-or-none proposition, too -- you were

either your normal size or your giant size, nothing in between.

Switching back and forth was simple and nearly instantaneous.

No one knew why or how this came about.  Maybe it was the air, or

something in the water.  Maybe the town sat on a ley line.  The people

of Kingston didn't much care, to tell the truth.  It was the

foundation of their economy, something too valuable to mess up.  They

didn't want anyone back east finding out about it, coming back here

with gauges and probes and whatnot.  It was their secret.

At any given time the town had a handful of males aged sixteen to

twenty who regularly became giants.  Past this age, the men starting

"going up" less and less often.  Giant labor was great where sheer

brute force was needed -- clearing land, digging irrigation ditches,

and so on, but there was also plenty of work to do "down on the

ground" -- indoor tasks, more delicate tasks, tending the crops and

machinery and so on.  Usually around the time a young man reached the

age of 21 or so, the thrill of being a powerful giant would have worn

off.  He'd be ready to learn a skilled trade, and there would be a new

16-year-old kid, eager to take his place.  The system worked well, and

the town had prospered for 150 years.

Derek walked down the giant path towards the town.  The earth under

his feet was solid, packed hard as concrete by years of colossal boots

treading on it.  Huge and handsome, 18-year-old Derek was the de facto

leader of the current gang of giants.  Having been raised on farms,

doing hard labor every day, nearly all of the young men in the town

were strapping and muscular, but even among them Derek stood out.  He

had bulging muscles in places other men didn't even have places.  "On

the ground" he was six foot five, 270 pounds of solid brawn.  As a

giant he topped 260 feet and weighed well over 9000 tons.  He had dark

hair, cut short, and dark eyes above a strong, square jaw.  The same

dark hair lightly covered his massive tanned chest and arms.  He wore

only faded jeans and boots, his enormous upper body glistened with

perspiration.  His deep voice boomed out as he squatted down over the

tiny man waving to him from the ground.  "WHAT CAN I DO FOR YOU TODAY,

MR. DENNY?"

"Jeb Parrington's tractor's broke down again, a couple miles east of

the river fork," called out Mr. Denny, waving vaguely in the right

direction.  "Needs me to take a look at it!"

"I'LL GO GET IT."  The little man nodded his thanks as Derek rose back

to his feet and thundered off.

He returned after just a few minutes, the huge fingers of his right

hand wrapped around a the midsection of a shiny red tractor.  In his

hand it looked like a detailed model.  The cables in his massive

forearm flexed lightly as he gripped it, firmly, but not hard enough

to crush it.  He squatted and set the tractor down lightly, right in

front of Mr. Denny.

Mr. Denny's shop was built right on the edge of town, so the giants

could bring in disabled vehicles easily.  They usually didn't venture

too far into town -- their weight broke the asphalt if they didn't

step carefully enough, and it was hard to maneuver their huge

workboots amongst the houses and trees.  One slight misstep and they'd

knock off a good chunk of someone's house, or flatten a car to the

thickness of a silver dollar.

"Thanks, Derek."  Derek nodded in reply.  "Where are the other

boys?"

Derek waved a huge hand.  "THEY'RE ALL CLEARING SOME LAND," he boomed,

waving in their general direction.  "I'M ABOUT TO GO HELP OUT."

"Say, you know Tim Overby's birthday is coming soon, right?  Got a

place all picked out?"

Derek grinned widely, clapping his hands together with enough force to

crush a truck.  "YOU BET.  'BOUT FIFTY MILES NORTH OF HERE."  Denny

smiled and nodded.

"That really takes me back -- almost wish I was just turning 16 again.

Richard's kinda wishing he'd stayed, now, but he'll get over it.

Well," he said, "I'd best get to work on this tractor..."  A rock

caught under Derek's heel exploded into powder as he shifted his

weight slightly, but neither of them even noticed.

"YEP, WE'VE GOTTA GET THAT LAND CLEARED BEFORE NEXT WEEK.  SEE YA."

Mr. Denny waved as Derek turned and left.

                          * * * * *

"Hey, welcome back!  Where 'ya been?"  John turned as he stood, the

trunk of a gnarled tree still clutched in his hand.  Derek thundered

closer, across some grazing land, his massive boots sinking deeply

into the soft earth, adding to the dozens of enormous bootprints

already there.

"Tractor broke down."  He stopped alongside John, then reached down,

wrapping his huge hand around the trunk of one of the trees at his

feet.  Derek's gargantuan arm muscles bulged slightly as he ripped the

tree from the ground, as easily as pulling up a weed.  "Had to go grab

it."

"Took you long enough."  John grasped the tree he was holding with his

other hand, and there was a loud CRACK as he snapped it in two.  His

hands closed around the pieces, and more crunching sounds as John

broke the tree up in his hands.

Derek shrugged his broad shoulders.  "Wasn't in a big hurry.  Thought

you three liked this work."  He eyed the tree in his hand, before

deciding it was straight enough to save for lumber.  He began pinching

the limbs off one by one, stripping them from the main trunk.  He

finished quickly, and tossed the rough log into the stack of keepers

before reaching down for another tree.

"Like it?!  We fuckin' love it!" called out Jim, who was pulling up

trees a few steps away.  His eyes twinkled as he pulverized another

tree in his hands.  At twenty, Jim and John were the oldest giants,

and twin brothers.  Both of them were redheads, lean and muscular,

like runners or swimmers.  Strong, taut muscles showed under their

smooth skin like cables of fine steel wire.  The fourth giant was

Steve.  He was the newest giant, already bigger than the twins but not

nearly as huge and hulking as Derek.  Since the start of the summer,

when Richard had decided to leave them and take a job in Mr. Denny's

garage, these four had made up the town's giant force.  In two days'

time, though, they would be joined by a fifth.

There was an old tradition they'd observe whenever a young man became

a giant for the first time.  All the giants would hike over to a

neighboring town, grow to their full, terrifying size, and attack.

They would rampage, kicking buildings apart, crushing the fleeing

citizens underfoot, reducing the whole town to wreckage.  It was a fun

game for them, and a necessary outlet.  There were those people --

mostly the women, who couldn't become giants -- who complained that

the practice was needlessly violent and cruel.  But those who had been

giants themselves knew.  They had felt the terrible destructive urge

welling up inside them, felt the desperate need to use that power to

kill and destroy.  Ignoring it was simply not an option -- the only

choice was to unleash it on another town, or risk a giant's snapping

and rampaging through Kingston.

"Tim's birthday is day after tomorrow, right?" said Steve, while

expertly stripping another tree and tossing it aside.  Steve and Tim

were close friends, and it had been hard on them both since Steve's

birthday a few months ago.  Derek knew that Steve was especially

looking forward to his friend's joining the gang.

"Yeah.  Pretty good-sized kid, too.  Six foot already, or near

enough."

"I can't wait, man!" 

                          * * * * *

Two days later, the bright morning sun shone down on a normal-sized

Derek, walking alongside a scared-looking Tim as they left town.

Neither of them had said much since Derek picked Tim up at his house.

Derek broke the silence.  "You ready?"

Tim hesitated.  He was a little intimidated by Derek -- even at normal

size, the 18-year-old was a huge, strapping man.  Tim was not small by

any means, but the massive, muscled arms hanging from the sleeves of

Derek's clean white t-shirt looked fit to beat Tim to a bloody pulp

with ease.  Tim didn't want to disappoint the older giant.

"Um, I guess...  I know today's my birthday and all, but I don't feel

any different.  I don't know if I can do it..."  His voice trailed

off, and he looked up at Derek, waiting for signs of anger.

Derek just smiled.  "That's normal.  We all felt that way.  You'll do

fine."

Feeling somewhat reassured, Tim walked on.  Soon they reached the

giants' road.  Tim felt the urge to leave it at a run -- from the time

they could walk, Kingston children were taught to avoid the path where

the giants walked, to avoid being inadvertently caught underfoot.

Today was special, though, and now Derek and Tim walked straight down

the center of the wide strip of bare earth.  Old habits died hard,

though, and Tim kept looking nervously about for any sign of

approaching giants.

Rounding a hill, they came upon the other three men, who were already

grown to giant size.  Tim took a deep breath.  He'd seen the giants

nearly every day of his life, but rarely this close up.  Their

enormous muscular physiques were simply incredible.  He fought the

urge to flee.  He kept walking forward, until he had to crane his neck

back to see the top of them.  Even Steve, who had been Tim's best

friend since the first grade, was frightening at this size.

When John spoke, the thunderous sound of his voice nearly knocked Tim

on his ass.  "'BOUT TIME YOU GOT BACK HERE."  He sounded angry at

first, but then he grinned.  Tim realized the giant was speaking to

Derek, not him.  He turned around, only to find that Derek wasn't

there anymore.  There was just a boot, a gigantic boot the size of a

semi trailer.  From the top emerged a massive pillar of denim that

rose up, up, up to a broad dark form silhouetted against the sky.

Derek had grown.  His gargantuan form gave a new meaning to the word

awesome.  Tim's throat went dry as he saw Derek's massive hand close

lightly into a fist.  Boot leather creaked and rock crunched underfoot

as he shifted his stance slightly, and Tim became all too aware that

Derek could simply crush him like a bug.

Derek backed up a step, leaving tiny Tim alone in the center of the

half-circle of giants.  "YOU READY, TIM?  WE CAN'T TELL YOU HOW TO

CHANGE -- IT'S IMPOSSIBLE TO DESCRIBE.  JUST CLOSE YOUR EYES AND SORT

OF THINK ABOUT IT.  FEEL AROUND IN YOUR HEAD.  IT MIGHT TAKE A COUPLE

OF MINUTES.  DON'T WORRY IF IT DOESN'T COME RIGHT AWAY -- WE ALL

REMEMBER WHAT IT'S LIKE THE FIRST TIME."  The other giants nodded.

Uneasily, Tim closed his eyes.  He was shaking like a leaf -- and

hoping that the other guys couldn't tell from their high vantage

point.  He could feel nothing but blank fear.  He pictured them

exchanging glances high above him, silently agreeing on which of them

would crush him into the ground.  "Oh, Tim," they were telling the

people back home, after they'd killed him, "yeah, he didn't work out.

Couldn't do it.  Had to get rid of him."  He pictured one of them

raising up a colossal boot, ready to smash it down.  In his mind, he

looked up at the giant preparing to obliterate him.  His eyes were

closed, but he could see the face.  It wasn't Steve or one of the

twins.  It wasn't even Derek.  It was his own face.  He was the giant.

Tim opened his eyes, and found himself face-to-face with Steve, who

had a big grin on his face.

Steve stuck out his hand to shake Tim's.  "Welcome to the club, dude."

His voice was no longer thunder -- he sounded perfectly normal.  "That

wasn't that hard now, was it?"  Tim looked around.  All the men seemed

normal to him now.  Even Derek -- he was still big and intimidating,

but not the terrifying godlike titan he'd been a minute ago.  Just a

man -- a man who had six inches and 60 pounds on Tim, but a man

nonetheless.

"Good job, man."  They crowded around, congratulating him.  It was

still hard to believe he was a giant.  Then they backed off a little,

starting to discuss amongst themselves plans for the upcoming

adventure.  Tim got a better look at his surroundings.

Everything was tiny.  The giant road, which he knew as a broad,

straight highway, was just a little twisting path now.  The town

itself was hidden behind a rise in the ground, but at his feet Tim

could see trees that barely reached his knee.  He couldn't resist.

Bending down, he wrapped his hand around a couple of trunks and

tugged, pulling them easily from the ground.

He couldn't help smiling as he examined the tiny trees in his hands.

When he was done, he closed his fingers around the trunks and

squeezed.  They snapped like dry twigs.  He felt something deeply

satisfying about such casual destruction.

Derek, who was watching him, laughed a little.  "Feels good, don't

it?"  Tim looked down, slightly abashed.  "Just wait till we get to

the town."  Derek's wide grin showed perfect white teeth.

John piped up, "Speaking of the town, what are we waiting for?  Not

getting any closer, is it?"

The five giants set off.  Derek led the way, with Tim right behind.

Within minutes they reached the end of the giant road at the edge of

the Kingston valley, and started walking through thick, untamed

forest.  The three guys in the rear laughed and chatted casually,

taking no notice of the forest they were bulldozing, but Tim was

silent, fascinated by the tiny world at their feet.  He watched

Derek's boots as they casually smashed down a dozen trees with each

step.  To the giants that was no more difficult than walking through

grass.  Tim looked down at his own boots, which were doing just as

much destruction.  He spotted a fist-sized rock lying in his path --

probably a good-sized boulder to anyone on the ground.  Tim kicked at

it, and watched as it went crashing through the trees, steamrolling a

path of destruction.  Tim felt a slight stirring in his crotch as he

watched the boulder mowing down the forest.  He salivated as he

thought about what the five of them could do to a mere town.

They walked for perhaps forty-five minutes before Derek slowed to a

stop.  He cocked his head towards the ridge ahead of them.  "Just over

that hill.  Wait here.  I'll be back in five minutes."  The others

nodded, and Derek set off, heading to the right, along the ridge

rather than up it.  Tim wondered what he was up to, but everyone else

seemed to understand so he felt foolish asking questions.  He stayed

silent as Derek disappeared behind a curve in the valley.

The sun was climbing higher in the sky, and the four of them were hot

from the long hike.  Steve was the first to strip off his shirt.  Not

to be outdone, Tim followed suit.  He was beginning to get his courage

back now, to think of the others as equals.  He'd lifted weights with

Steve, back before Steve had joined the giants.  The two of them had

always competed for size.  Steve had had an unfair advantage for the

past few months, but now they were nearly equal in size once again --

both handsome and powerfully built.  The competition was back on.  Tim

tossed his shirt aside and stood facing Steve, chest to hairy chest,

so close they were almost touching.  "You think you can take me?"

growled Tim.

Steve scowled for a second, then grinned.  "It's good to have you

back, man," he laughed, chucking Tim on the shoulder, a little harder

than was necessary.  Tim returned the blow.  Together they turned to

John and Jim.  "What's keeping Derek?"

Jim shrugged, but then John pointed.  "Here he comes."

Derek came thundering down the side of the ridge, easily smashing

trees aside.  Seeing the others, he grinned and pulled off his own

t-shirt, revealing a stunning muscled torso that put them all to

shame.  Tim tried to avoid staring, but he couldn't help admiring

Derek's broad, cannonball-sized shoulders, his massive hairy pecs, and

the perfect six-pack deeply etched into the hard wall of his stomach.

It was awe-inspiring, watching those gargantuan bulging muscles bend

and flex as Derek thundered forward.  Tim could only hope he'd be half

as huge when he'd reached Derek's age.

If the others felt this envy, too, they showed no sign of it.  They

were probably used to it.  Jim called out, "Everything ready?"

Derek nodded.  "Yep.  Phones and power are out, and the pass leading

out of the valley is buried under about 75 feet of rubble.  No road,

no rail."  So that's what he'd been up to.  Tim pictured Derek's

colossal form at work, plucking phone and electric poles from the

ground like toothpicks, twisting steel rails like licorice whips.  He

noticed Derek's knuckles were white with dust.  He imagined Derek

shattering a wall of sheer granite with his fists, burying the pass

leading out of the valley under hundreds of tons of rock.  Again he

began to get aroused at the thought of such power -- power which he'd

be unleashing himself shortly.

"Everyone ready?" asked Derek.  Grunts of assent from all the men.

"You remember the rule -- nobody escapes.  Nobody but us gets out of

this valley alive.  You ready for this, Tim?"  Tim nodded.  "Ok.  It's

your day, man -- you lead."  Derek pointed up the hill.

Tim started to climb.  The others flanked him, Derek and Jim on his

left, John and Steve on the right.  He took long, powerful strides.

Any second they'd crest the hill and he'd be visible -- they'd all be

visible -- to the unfortunates in the doomed town.

At first Tim felt very self-conscious.  As he spotted the town,

though, the streets lined with little houses, dotted with the

occasional tower or steeple, his fears died away.  He was eager to see

what he could do to this town.  Tim's footsteps grew heavier, the

ground shaking each time one of his boots struck the ground.  The

others had all followed suit -- he glanced back at their faces, all

hardened by the same anger and rage he was feeling.  He turned back

towards the town, sneering down at all the pathetic little people.

As they crossed a field, the toe of Tim's boot caught a tiny little

tractor stopped in his path, sending it spinning and flying like a

child's toy.  It rolled to a stop after a few seconds -- right in

front of Derek.  Without even breaking his stride, Derek reached down

and scooped it up.  It looked a lot like the one he'd taken to the

garage a couple of days earlier, but instead of gently carrying it,

Derek closed his fingers around the tractor and crushed it, his

viselike grip reducing it to scrap metal.  He tossed the wreckage

aside.

The five giants formed a broad vee, with Tim at the forward tip.  They

thundered across fields and meadows, carelessly trampling crops

underfoot, focused on the town.  Already they could see tiny people in

the streets, screaming and pointing.  The sight of such pathetic

little creatures only served to steel their resolve, to whet their

destructive appetites.

Tim stopped as he reached the edge of the town, standing right in

front a little house.  It was barely taller than the tops of his worn

work boots.  The bulk of his hairy muscled leg dwarfed the little

structure.  Tim lifted one foot, lightly resting the thick treads of

his heavy boot on the peak of the roof.

"Go on man, crush 'em," growled Jim.

Tim took a deep breath, gritted his teeth, and brought his colossal

weight down, obliterating the house instantly.  Thick timbers

shattered as the might of Tim's gigantic leg drove his tough boot

easily through both floors and down into the basement.  He stood

blankly for a moment, staring down at the mangled wreckage under his

foot, taken aback a little by the ease of such total destruction.

The others laughed cruelly.  Someone clapped him on the back.  "Way to

go, dude!  Welcome to the club!"  Tim shook off his stunned

expression, beginning to laugh thunderously along with the rest.  With

that, the real party began, and the earth began to shake under the

violent onslaught of five colossal young men.

Jim lifted one boot up high, smashing it down with so much force that

the house he stomped seemed to simply explode outwards.  Steve kicked

in the front of another, his foot tearing through it, scattering

debris for a hundred feet or more.  The inch-tall citizens of the town

began to panic as they fled for their lives.

Seeing a car coming at high speed, Derek stepped closer and reached

down.  Casually, almost lazily, he closed his hand around it, bringing

it instantly to a dead stop, leaving the people inside dazed but

alive.  He picked it up, lifting the battered car up to his face to

take a good look inside.  His white teeth showed in an evil grin as he

peered in at his tiny captives.  Then he clenched them in his fist,

his massive sinewy forearm easily crunching the car into a flat disk

of steel.  Looking around, he caught another car, which he smashed to

pieces against his hardened chest.

John took a more careful approach.  He was squatted down in front of

one house and was slowly, methodically pulling it apart.  Already the

roof was gone and the top floor exposed.  John picked out little

pieces of furniture, shattering them by pinching them between his

fingers.  Then he started wrenching off the emptied second floor,

tearing out walls and floors as easily as he'd destroyed their

contents.  He noticed Tim watching him, and grinned.  "Little shits

always hide in the basement," he said, indicating the half-destroyed

house, "always fuckin' terrified by the time I get to 'em."

Chuckling, he went back to his work.  Tim turned away to attack

another house.  A couple minutes later he heard John's booming

laughter, and knew that the little people he'd trapped had probably

just met a very violent end.

Not long after their destructive party had gotten underway, Derek

yelled for Tim to come over and join him.  Derek was alone, standing a

little ways apart from the others, towering over the remains of a

block that had already been ravaged by the giants.  He seemed to be

holding something in one hand.  Tim wondered what it was, and why

Derek wanted with him over there.

As he crunched his way across town towards Derek, Tim kicked at a

little mound of rubble, sending a heavily damaged little car that had

been buried underneath flying.  He was still chuckling as he walked up

to Derek.  "Hey Derek, what's up?"

"Houses and cars are nothin', man."  Derek held out his hand.  "Let's

see how you do mano-a-mano."  Tim looked.  His laughter stopped short

as he realized that cupped in Derek's massive, calloused hand were a

dozen or more little people.

As Tim watched, Derek plucked one of the little guys out of his hand,

pinching him between thumb and forefinger as he lifted the guy up to

his hairy sternum.  Tim swallowed, remembering the terror he'd felt

standing at the feet of the giant Derek -- and he'd been pretty sure

the giants had been on his side.  He couldn't begin to imagine the

little man's terror as he looked up at the godlike Derek, at the

massive slabs of thick chest and shoulder muscle looming over him.

Tim's heart pounded as he watched Derek squeeze, crushing the little

guy like a grape.  When it was done, Derek gave a short laugh before

flinging the mangled body contemptuously away.  "See?  No problem.

Here, take a few."  Tim held out his hand, and Derek tipped a few of

the terrified captives into it.  One little guy didn't want to go,

clinging to Derek's hand like it was a lifeboat in a stormy sea.

After what they'd all just witnessed, it wasn't clear why he thought

being in Derek's care was any safer than being in Tim's, but all the

little people were probably beyond rationality.  Derek shook his hand

gently a couple of times, trying to dislodge the man without breaking

his neck, but somehow he managed to hang on.

"NICE TRY, LITTLE MAN."  To the little people Derek's voice must have

been eardrum-shatteringly powerful.  With his other hand, he roughly

brushed the little guy off.  He fell 150 feet to the ground below, but

survived.  "SEE HOW YOU LIKE IT DOWN THERE," snarled Derek.  With that

he lifted his right foot and delicately pressed the toe of his boot

down on the man's lower body.  His screams reached a fever pitch as

Derek's boot ground his legs and pelvis into dust.  Smiling, Derek let

him lie there for a minute in agony before finishing him off.  His

screams grew briefly louder as the huge treads descended on him, then

there was a tiny wet crunch, and silence.

Tim laughed, looking down the people trapped on his own hand.  It

hardly seemed possible, but they looked even more scared than before.

Cupped in his gigantic hand, none of them had been able to see what

was happening down on the ground, but they'd all heard the grisly

execution and their imaginations had probably filled in the rest.

Tim caught one of his own hostages between his fingers and lifted him

up above the rest.  Tim might not have been as huge as Derek, but he

was still a broad-shouldered young man, with a well-developed chest

and thick, bulging biceps, and he was willing to bet that to the

little people his musculature was just as impressive and frightening.

He rolled the little man back and forth in his fingers.  He felt the

fragile little ribcage.  He gave a slight squeeze, causing the man to

cry out in pain.  He'd broken some of the guy's bones without even

trying.  Grinning, Tim responded to the man's pleas for mercy by

squeezing harder.  He felt things snap, then the pathetic struggles

ceased and the man went limp in his hand.  Tim felt a surge of pride

and bloodlust -- he'd just killed a man with his bare hands.

"Fucking awesome," breathed Tim.  Derek threw his head back and roared

with laughter.

"Watch this!" said Derek.  Still holding a few captives in his hand,

he started to make a fist.  They panicked, pushing each other aside in

a futile attempt to escape the huge fingers curling down toward them.

Once Derek had them all pinned, Tim watched the huge sinews of his

powerful forearm flex again as he crushed them all.  He opened his

hand and flung the pulpy mess away.

"That's nothing," laughed Tim.  He smashed his whole handful of

hostages against his chest, splattering them across an expanse of

granite-hard pec muscle.

Derek roared his approval.  "Jesus, man, you're a natural!"  The two

giants' laughter shook the remaining buildings of the town.

Tim turned away, looking for something to rinse the mess off his

torso.  Spotting the town's water tower, he strode off toward it,

destroying all in his path.  When he reached it, the steel legs broke

like brittle spaghetti as he lifted the tank off.  He tore the metal

walls of the tank open like tissue paper, and splashed a few thousand

gallons of cold water across his bare chest.  Before long he was

dripping wet but clean.  There wasn't much water left in the tank, so

Tim crumpled it up like a piece of newsprint and hurled the ball of

steel off into the distance.

He headed for the town's main street.  He walked up and down both

sides of the street, feeling brick structures shattering against his

shins.  He crouched down and blasted a few more to rubble with his

fist.  He scooped up a few cars, compacting them into little balls

which he hurled at fleeing people.  They usually missed their intended

target, but Tim didn't care.  He threw them hard enough to destroy

whatever they eventually slammed into.  Once in a while he'd strike a

person with one and chuckle as they were pulped instantly.  Before

long this area too was rubble.

The largest structure in town was the grain elevator.  It came all the

way up the giants' muscular thighs, but didn't last long as Derek and

John started to kick it to pieces.  There were now very few structures

still standing the devastated town, but the boys were able to amuse

themselves by hunting down and exterminating any survivors hiding in

the rubble.  Tim went over to Steve, who was working over towards the

edge of town.

Steve had cleared out a small space, a circle about fifty feet across,

and walled it off with heaps of wreckage.  Tim chuckled at the sight

of the town sheriff's battered squad car forming part of the barrier.

Already there were about twenty people trapped in the little pen, and

to these Steve added another handful he'd collected from the

neighborhood.  One of them was a little deputy.  He was severely hurt,

his uniform covered in blood.

Steve noticed where Tim was staring.  "Little fucker tried takin' a

shot at me," he snarled.  "So I ripped his fuckin' arm off!"  Steve

roared with laughter.  Down on the ground, the tiny deputy had

collapsed to the ground.

To scare the others trapped in Steve's pen, Tim lifted up one foot and

held it over their heads.  His huge boot was almost too big for the

circle.  He watched them scramble for the edges, shoving each other

aside, trying to get out from under the ominous shadow.

Steve laughed.  Reaching down he picked up one of the captives,

holding him by pinching together one leg and one arm.  He held the guy

out to Tim.  "Here, make a wish."  Catching on, Tim grinned as he

seized the guy's other limbs and the two giants tugged.  There was a

brief shriek as the poor man was torn apart, but when it was over Tim

had gotten the head.  "Aw, shit," lamented Steve, as he tossed the

torn limbs he was holding away.  "What'd you wish for?"

Tim shook his head.  "Can't tell ya, or it won't come true, right?"

Squatting down, Steve said, "Guess not," as he started to eliminate

the trapped people -- crushing a few into the ground with his thumbs,

ripping some limb from limb, whatever he felt like.  One man he picked

up and squeezed just hard enough to prevent him from breathing.  He

slowly turned purple, then blue as he struggled uselessly against

Steve's iron grip.  When he'd lost consciousness, Steve tightened his

fingers to finish the job.  It was probably the most pleasant death

any of the captives experienced.  Tim helped himself to a couple,

tucking one into the crook of his arm and flexing, crushing the guy

between his forearm and bicep.

The town was finished.  The five men searched the rubble, looking for

any sign of movement.  Occasionally one would suddenly stomp some heap

of wreckage down, but it eventually became clear that all they were

doing was further pulverizing the rubble.

"Doesn't look like there's much more to do here," said Derek, kicking

idly at a mangled truck.  The others nodded grimly, mourning the loss

of their playground.  "We should head up towards the pass, make sure

that no one got away."

They left the town behind, following the two-lane highway that led

towards the ridge.  Derek walked right on the road, the asphalt

cracking and shattering under his tremendous boots.  They all kept

their eyes peeled for signs of people -- a log cabin, a farmer out in

the fields, anything.  They started to climb.  As they neared the

roadblock Jim suddenly pointed.  "Hey!  Look!"  They followed his

finger and saw a car, a little two-seater stopped on the road right

where Derek had blocked the pass with an avalanche of rock.

The earth shook as all five giants raced forward, trying to be the

first to reach the little car.  Derek won -- his strides were the

longest, and his bulk capable of shoving the other guys aside.  The

car stayed still as he reached down for it.  He lifted it to his face

and peered inside.

"Empty."  His voice was a dangerous growl.  He crushed the car without

a second thought, then ordered, "Find them.  Now."

The five giants split up.  Derek simply stepped over the barrier it

had probably taken the little people an hour to climb.  Within a

minute Derek had spotted a little person and gave chase.  Tim expected

him to just step on the little guy, but instead Derek squatted down

and caught the guy in his hand.  Lifting him up, he boomed, "YOU'RE A

DEAD MAN, BUT YOU HAVE A CHOICE.  IT CAN BE INSTANT AND PAINLESS, OR

IT CAN BE LONG, DRAWN-OUT TORTURE.  UNDERSTAND?"  Probably deafened,

the little man looked bewildered but managed a nod.  "WAS ANYONE WITH

YOU?"  The man shook his head, and Tim figured he was being truthful.

It was hard to imagine lying under that kind of pressure.

"OKAY," thundered Derek.  Then, quick as lightning, he pounded his

fist down into the palm where the guy lay.  He was good to his word --

the little man was obliterated instantly, probably didn't have time to

feel a thing.

It was only mid-afternoon.  In no hurry to return home, the five

giants sat down on the ridge, telling each other what they'd each done

to the town.  They had a view of the whole valley, and didn't see any

other vehicles on the shattered road, or any signs of life in the

destroyed town.  As the sun sank lower in the sky, they figured it was

time to start the hike back.

They crossed the ridge, going back to where they'd discarded their

t-shirts.  As Tim picked his up, Derek said, "You know, it's not like

this every day.  Most of the time it's hard work.  Jim 'n' John will

probably be leaving soon, and it'll probably just be the three of us

for maybe a year."

Tim nodded.  "Yeah, I know."  He looked down at his powerful body,

already feeling the destructive urge subsiding.  Flexing his powerful

bicep, he said, "I think I'm ready to get to work, anyway."

Derek clapped him on the back, "Good man, Tim."  He pulled his t-shirt

on and the five of them started walking, headed for home.

As Tim walked, he thought about the work that lay ahead.  He tensed

the muscles of his chest and abs, thinking that their strength would

be equal to any task.  He didn't mind the idea of labor.  The rampage

had been fun, but he was ready to put his immense muscles to use as

tools, rather than weapons.

For now.

                           the end