As Gareth started to come to, he could hear muted voices on either side of him. He tried to tune into what was being said but everything still felt so distant. There was a pressure on his left arm. Someone moving it. He squeezed his eyes shut tighter, uncomfortable. Let out a small groan as he slightly turned his head to the side.

He gasped when a sharp pain suddenly swept over his arm. His eyes shot open, breathing quickened. Feet searching for purchase so that he could sit up, pushing the hands away from him the best he could with only one arm.

"Gareth, it's us! It's just us!"

Alex was slightly hovering over him on the right, Mary on the left. Both sat next to him. Both with worry etched on their faces.

"I know, baby. I know... It hurts. I'm sorry. But just try to rest." Mary placed a cool hand against his forehead. That instinct all mother's had. Like waking up from a nightmare, only to discover it's real.

Gareth tried to lift his left arm out of curiosity, as if the pain wasn't enough to go by. He wanted to see how bad it was. But Alex quickly grabbed that hand, keeping his arm sort of pinned to his chest. He glanced down to see that his brother had actually removed his outer shirt and used it to wrap his injured arm, along with his belt: the only items they really had.

"It's the closest we're gonna get to a splint... Or a cast..."

Gareth shut his eyes and nodded. Appreciated that they were both trying to do everything they could with limited resources. But the moment he awoke feeling that pain, he had already come to terms with the fact that he'd probably never be able to use that arm again. Or at least not to its full ability.

"How bad?" Gareth looked down at his wrapped arm. Then to Mary and Alex. Tried to read their expressions, knowing that they would probably lie. Try to make him feel better.

Alex glanced over to their mom. That should have been the first indication it was bad.

"We didn't..." Mary searched for the words. Her hand brushed across Gareth's forehead again, pushing his hair back, a sad smile on her face. "We don't really know. It didn't look too bad. But it might need... set."

"Then do it."

"Gareth..." Alex's face fell.

"Look, I know what I'm asking. And I wouldn't ask if the circumstances were different. But it's either you or them." Gareth licked his lips. A nervous tick. He tried to ignore the constant stifling pain radiating in his left arm. "...And I'd prefer it wasn't them."

And just the look on their faces had him regretting every word he'd just said. He felt almost selfish. Because how could he ask them to do that for him? They knew just as well as he did that it would hurt like hell. And yet here he was, asking them to do it.

If they didn't though, chances were pretty slim his arm would ever be properly set and have the chance to heal.

"They're not gonna lay another hand on you." Alex spoke up before Gareth could take his words back. Gritting his teeth. Angry.

And anger was only good for one thing anymore.

Gareth shook his head. "You can't stop the inevitable. And don't try, either."

"Like hell—"

"Anger only makes you stupid. If you try attacking, you'll only make things worse." Gareth wished he had only realized the truth in his own words sooner. He wouldn't have lashed out, at least not nearly as bad, and he wouldn't have received the whole "eye for an eye" treatment.

"We can't just keep standing by and letting them do whatever they want, Gareth."

"No... It's exactly what we need to do." Gareth pulled himself up into a sitting position, hissing in pain. He could feel Mary providing him with support by placing a hand on his back, Alex gripping his right arm. "We give them this, we do everything they want, they let their guard down."

"We'll die." Alex was staring hard at him, fear evident in his features.

"We won't. I won't let that happen."


Huddled in the corner, the rattle and bang of the railcar opening stirred them from their sleep again. Gareth felt the blood drain from his face as Mary pulled him closer, terror washing over them. They had just fixed his arm the best they could not too long ago: set it and wrapped it back up with Alex's belt and extra shirt. Hoping to keep it immobilized. They were just starting to feel… at ease. Because at least they had been given a break for most of the day.

Only this time it wasn't Chris. It was a different man. And he had a plate of what appeared to be some sort of meat.

He only smiled as he set the plate down. Backed out without a word, locking the door.

And there seemed to be a collective growl coming from their stomachs at the savory smell.

Alex fidgeted beside them, eager. Gareth wanted to tell him not to eat it. To just let it sit. Because he had a bad feeling about where that meat came from.

He didn't want to acknowledge it though. He couldn't think about it.

They were starving.

So, Alex managed to scrabble his way over to the plate and bring it back, hands shaking as he stared down at it. He looked to Gareth for approval. "It's not like they could poison it, right? Or even if they did, it's not like it would be a bad thing…"

Gareth vaguely nodded.


It was late in the night when someone returned to the railcar, the door opening and a beam of light landing on the empty plate just in front of it. An almost muted chuckled followed by a heavy footstep as the man entered the car. He shone the flashlight on them in the corner, partially blinding them, leaving them with no other option but to squint back.

"Warms my heart to see this tight-knit family unit all curled up like a bunch of kicked dogs." Chris lowered the flashlight down at the ground. "I'd have to say, you're the most entertaining. The others don't even try struggling anymore."

Gareth was still pulled back into Mary's lap with Alex huddled close to their side. Mary wrapped an arm around each son, hugging Alex closer, her other arm protectively across Gareth's chest with her hand gripping his shoulder. Everyone curling together even more than they already were.

"I'm just glad to see you three eat. You must have been famished. With everything you've been through…" Chris approached them, pulled at the knee of his pant legs before squatting down to their level about a foot away. He immediately locked eyes with Gareth before looking down at his arm, Mary's hand digging into Gareth's shoulder.

He continued, grinning, "How's the arm?"

"Leave him alone," Alex spoke up.

Chris rolled his jaw before smacking Alex across the face with the flashlight. "I wasn't talking to you."

"Alex—" Gareth reached his right arm out beside him in an attempt to kind of shield him. He felt Alex grip onto his arm, letting him know he was okay.

Mary gasped, trying her best to keep both of them pulled to her as close as possible. As if they couldn't be taken away from her if she did.

Chris chuckled as he straightened out his back, towering over them again. "Speaking of arms… Oh, what was his name… David? Not too bad if I do say so myself. Judging by the empty plate, I'd venture to guess you thought the same."

It was silent as the words processed. Gareth shut his eyes. Shook his head in disgust and disbelief. Alex gagged and Mary kept repeating: no, no, no.

David Cornett. Early forties, had a daughter about Alex's age. They came from Macon. Followed the tracks, found the signs. He was a good guy. One of the first who had joined them at Terminus—he and his daughter, Ashley.

Another innocent among the dead.

"You're sick," Gareth hissed, lip snarled.

Chris turned back to face him after having reached the door. Smiled. Like he was proud of it. And just left without another word.

"Did we eat—" Alex cut himself short, voice shaking. "What did we do?"

"No. No…" Gareth tried to stay stern. "We did what we had to do. To survive. We didn't have any other choice."

"But we didn't have to ea—we didn't have to do… that."

"We didn't know…" Mary whispered.

"Just—just stop. There's no point in feeling guilty about it. What's done is done…" Gareth's eyes ended up landing on the empty plate. "We just have to keep moving forward."