TEN

"So…" Rick began softly, his heart hammering against his rib cage as his eyes darted between the armed men. "How do you suppose we handle this one?"

"Well," she said softly, clearly speaking out of one corner of her mouth to limit lip movement, "interrogation was more my strong suit, so maybe you should try to talk our way out of this. Seems like something you might be good at."

While the writer was well versed in schmoozing literary execs, publishers, editors, and even lawyers, he feared gun-wielding thugs were a different ballgame all together. "I'll give it a shot." With that, Rick pressed the button on the car door to lower the driver's window. He cleared his throat, plastered his best "Richard Castle, famous writer" smile on his face and called out, "Good afternoon, gentlemen! Or is it morning? Damn apocalypse—I never seem to know the time." He finished with a laugh, hoping to keep things light—and hoping they wouldn't get close enough to see the sweat pouring off his brow.

The man directly in front of him, who was dressed in an olive green t-shirt and khaki cargo pants lowered his weapon and approached the driver's side window. "Good afternoon yourself." He spoke to them in a surprisingly polite tone given the near hostage situation. "Why don't you go ahead and roll down the passenger window and then shut off the engine."

Wanting to keep the situation as calm as possible, Rick did as he was asked. Once the key was pulled out of the ignition he asked, "Is there something we can help you with? My girlfriend and I were just on our way south trying to find someplace safe."

"That so?" the green shirt stranger said, tightening his grip on his weapon. "Then I suppose it's unfortunate that you ran into us." At the end of his statement, he whistled and Rick saw using the rearview mirror that at least a dozen gun-toting men had emerged from hiding spots along the roadside and were now surrounding their vehicle; so much for a peaceful resolution.

The green shirt man crouched down so he could better view in the car as he asked them, "You folks have any weapons with you?"

Thinking it was best to be honest with those who were armed, he admitted, "Ah yes. We both have knives and she has a gun."

The green shirt man smirked. "Not man enough to carry one yourself?"

Rick gave him a look; he did not wish to have insults thrown at him by a man holding a gun. "She's a cop."

"Yeah?" Green shirt asked, mildly intrigued. "Where at, sweetie?"

Rick sucked in his breath, certain Kate would not appreciate being called "sweetie" by a stranger, let alone one holding them at gunpoint, but she answered simply with, "NYPD."

Green-shirt chuckled. "Then I guess it's good we're not in New York. Get out of the car—slowly."

"Now hold on a second, I think we can just-"

"I said," Green-shirt man demanded as he held the muzzle of his weapon up to the open car window, "get out of the car."

Rick held his hands up, palms facing out and slowly rotated his body towards the car door. "Okay, okay, we're-"

"Hold on." Kate interrupted his surrender. "We have a cat in here. Let me just-"

"I don't give a shit about your cat, lady. Get out of the car, or I'll shoot your boyfriend."

As green-shirt man had made himself quite plain, Rick gave Kate a sympathetic look before dropping his eyes to Tux, who cowered on the floor by Kate's feet. He said a silent apology to the feline before popping the door handle and stepping out of the car. Immediately, he was roughly grabbed by his right shoulder and forced around so that his hands were against the car roof and he could be frisked, police-style.

Standing there as strange men relieved him of his knife and rummaged through his pockets, Rick mentally flashed back to all the other interactions he'd had with strangers along the road. For as long as he lived—however much longer that ended up being—he would never understand why in times of stress and strife some people's default reaction was cruelty instead of kindness. Then again, maybe that was just the kind of person he was.

Even at his darkest hour, he never would have considered armed robbery as an option to obtain what he needed. When Kate had found him that day in the forest, he was certainly at his lowest point as far as starvation and thirst went, though he would never have even thought about stealing from her. Had she not offered, he might have asked—okay, begged—for water she had to spare, but taking it by force never entered his mind.

He remembered the first time his possessions had been taken from him. At that point, he and his family were just days out of the city, so when a group of men approached him his initial response had been to protect the two women, but also keep things light just in case the men had an innocent motive. Of course, they turned out to be no better than school yard bullies: punching him in the face, causing his daughter and mother to scream, relieving him of his guns, and then continuing on their way. All things considered, that had been a minor incident.

The second time he'd been robbed, the one that had only happened a little more than two months earlier, was significantly less pleasant. He'd been punched, kicked, and spat on; called every insult the attacker's simple mind could come up with, many of which were simply involved curses for adjectives. Perhaps unwisely he'd put up more of a fight, but times were tough. It had taken him no small amount of scavenging to find what he had so he offered to split it with them, but that had not gone over well.

Standing against the car with his palms flat on the roof and his legs spread, gazing over at Kate as her position mirrored his, Rick wasn't sure what to think. Did they roll over and allow the thugs to take anything and everything they wanted in hopes they'd be able to escape with their lives? Or did they attempt to make a deal to keep some if not all of their haul. Unfortunately, Rick could not see any scenario in which they'd be able to keep the car.

Once frisked, Rick was led towards the back end of the vehicle and half expected his hands to be tied behind his back. They weren't, though his left bicep was held almost painfully tight in the grip of a man nearly twice his size. Rick briefly wondered how the man managed to find enough food in the apocalypse to maintain such bulk, but dismissed the thought from his mind when Kate was walked into a similar position just a few feet from him.

Green-shirt man retrieved the car keys from the center console and popped the rear hatch of the Subaru. Observing their boxes and crates of water and food, he grinned. "Looks like you folks were packed for a journey."

"Yes, and we'd like to keep going if it's all the same to you," Rick said.

The man hummed and rubbed his fingertips over his beard-covered chin. "Unfortunately, we can't allow that. There's a tax to use this road, you see." Finished with his assessment, the green-shirt man slammed down the back hatch to the vehicle, causing a loud noise and the shaking of the car. Unfortunately, this appeared to be too much for Tux to take, because he bolted from the passenger side of the vehicle and took off sprinting towards some road-side brush.

"Tux!" Kate cried out, moving quickly forward only to be roughly grabbed around the waist and hauled back into submission.

"Hey stop!" Rick called out automatically, fury building inside him at the mere thought of her being injured. "Don't treat her like that!"

"I'm fine Rick." She mumbled her eyes trained sadly on the direction in which the cat fled.

The green-shirt man stepped up to Rick and shook his head. "Always a shame when the hot ones turn out to be crazy, right?"

Rick narrowed his eyes at the man. "All right, enough. Let's just finish this. You can keep the car and the bulk of the supplies; just let us take what we can carry and we'll be on our way."

Green-shirt threw back his head and let out a bark of laughter so violent Rick was actually a bit startled. Shaking his head, green-shirt dipped his left thumb into his belt buckle while brushing at his cheek with his right hand. "Shoot…you're a funny guy. Did you used to be a comedian, funny guy?"

"No."

"Well, you should think about it in the future."

Now thoroughly unamused, Rick merely blinked. "Which part of what I said was so funny?"

"Oh, all of it," green-shirt said. "But you know I appreciate your attempts at negotiating, I really do, so I'll tell ya what I'm going to do: I'm going to let you and your girlfriend go without any bullet holes. How's that for a settlement?"

So much for a mutually beneficial negotiation; it was quickly becoming obvious they were not going to win anything from these thugs. If their only "win" was to escape without injury, they'd simply have to take it. With a sigh, Rick rounded his shoulders. Submission to the terms was poised on his lips, when he heard Kate call out, "We get one bottle of water each."

Green-shirt man brought his hand up to paw at his chin as though he were deep in contemplation, but only for a second before replying swiftly, "No."

"One bottle of water total." Kate countered.

Green-shirt's chin dropped to his chest and shook his head. With a heavy sigh, he gestured towards Kate with his weapon and asked Rick, "Can't you get a handle on her?"

The writer almost laughed. Though they had been an official couple for only one week, and known each other barely two months, he very much doubted Kate was the type of woman who could be "handled" by any man. Instead, he pointed out cautiously, "Well, it is a very hot day."

Green-shirt sighed exasperatedly and trudged over to the vehicle. Ducking into the driver's side door, he returned with the water bottle that had been in the central cup holder. He held it up and shook his head. "I really am too kind." With that, he unscrewed the cap and began pouring water onto the ground until the twenty ounce bottle was approximately half full. Then, he screwed the cap back on and tossed the bottle to Rick.

"Thanks." Rick replied with no small amount of sarcasm.

Once he and Kate had been released from the grips of green-shirt's henchmen, they began silently walking towards the fallen tree. As Rick was ahead of Kate, he didn't realize she had stopped walking until he heard one of the man shout, "What the hell do you think you're doing?" Whipping around, he saw Kate leaning over by the passenger door, her arm extended inside the vehicle.

"I'm getting my bag."

"Lady," Green-shirt began, now sounding more annoyed than ever, "if I didn't let you take water, what the hell makes you think I'm going to let you take a bag?"

"It only has my tampons in it—or are you girls nearing the end of your cycle?"

Had the situation not been so dire, Rick might have laughed at the absurd expression that crossed the face of about half the thugs. Green-shirt, however, was not amused. He stalked over to Kate and reached down into the vehicle to pull out the black satchel that had been sitting at Kate's feet. Rick never thought to ask what was inside it, figuring it was just more supplies. He watched as green-shirt peered inside, grimaced, and then shoved the bag at Kate's chest before saying, "Now get the fuck out of here before I change my mind."

"Do you really have only tampons in that purse?" Rick asked as quietly as possible once they had traveled approximately a quarter mile from the fallen tree. During that five minute walk, neither of them spoke.

Kate grinned over at her companion. "Of course not; there are two protein bars tucked into the lining."

Rick's expression mirrored hers. "Smart girl."

Kate merely chuckled. Almost ever since the beginning of her time out in the zombie-filled world she had carried her tampon-hidden stash of supplies. Had she come along a group of female robbers, she may have had an issue, but she was banking on the stereotypical, yet valid squeamishness of men when it came to women's feminine hygiene products. Green-shirt man had confirmed her theory when he merely gazed into the bag instead of rifling through it.

"Guess we need to come up with a plan for more supplies," she said as they continued along the main road. "I'd imagine these houses have been pretty picked through, but maybe we can veer off into a neighborhood and find some water?"

Rick slowed his walk until he came to a full stop. When Kate realized he wasn't following, she turned and saw he had a sad expression. "I'm sorry, Kate."

"Why?"

"I messed up. I was driving. I should have turned around and-"

"Hey. No." Kate stepped up and reached out her hand to cradle his face. "It's not your fault. If I'd been driving I would have done the same thing. It's just…something that happened."

He nodded, though reluctantly. "Still, I'm sorry…about Tux, too."

"Oh." Kate said, feeling her heart sink a little more. She tried not to think of him and how long he would last—rather, how long he wouldn't last—out on his own. At least she could be satisfied with the fact that they did the best they could for him. "Thanks."

Rick leaned down and kissed her before taking her hand as they continued down the road. "I was thinking: we drove for about ninety minutes, right? We had to double back a few times, which slowed us down, but I think that sign we passed at the traffic circle said Flemington, which was about halfway to Philadelphia. That means we have about forty or so miles to go. And that's if the refuge is in Philadelphia proper, which I'm guessing it isn't given what a shit-show New York turned into."

"Right."

"It's easily past noon, which gives us what? Six hours of daylight. Even if we walk that whole time at a consistent pace without stopping at all to look for food and water, we still won't make it today."

"Agreed." Kate sighed. The writer was one hundred percent correct. With the loss of not just their supplies but their vehicle, the plan for their journey would be altered significantly.

"Maybe what we should look for in one of these houses is a working watch. Then, we can time ourselves. We'll walk for four hours and then we'll have to start looking for a safe place to spend the night."

"Sounds like a plan."

"See Kate," he said, giving her hand another squeeze, "I told you this would be and adventure."

"So…I was thinkin'—have you ever seen a zombie animal?"

Kate glanced over to her companion as they continued to trudge down the center of a side-street quickly becoming overgrown with brush now that there was no more regular road maintenance. "A what?"

"A zombie animal." He repeated. "Dog, cat, rabbit, squirrel… because I've never seen one."

Kate considered this for a moment before shaking her head. "I guess I've never seen one either, but that makes sense. They clearly don't get the flu or colds from us, so they're immune to this too."

"Oh!" He proclaimed excitedly, hopping in front of her. "Maybe that's it! That's the cure! We splice human DNA with animal DNA—I just hope they pick a really cool animal. Like—oh!—a tiger; that would be cool!"

Kate let out a light laugh and shook her head as they continued to walk. "Yeah, because splicing DNA sounds really plausible given our desperate lack of electricity."

He clicked his tongue and made a flippant gesture with his hand. "Please. The labs that have the DNA splicing availability clearly would have been prepared for something like this. They'd still have generators and everything they need to cure all this."

"Then why are we still living in the Stone Age?"

He grumbled and gave her a side-eye. "There you go again—messing up my story with your logic. Cures take time—obviously."

"Uh huh."

"Hey! Don't judge me. This is why you brought me alone, right?"

"For what? Your delusions of grandeur?" She responded. A defeated look crossed his face and she reached out and hugged his arm briefly. "I'm kidding, Rick. I really do appreciate your nauseating-at-times positivity."

He merely shrugged. "What can I say? I'm a glass-half-full kinda guy."

Kate merely smiled at him. Though he'd been in a darker place when they first met—perfectly understandable given everything that had happened—she was glad to see the bright, optimistic side to him that existed practically all the time. It was quite different than her default setting of serious, task-oriented focus, but that's what made him so fun to be around; he reminded her that without taking moments to be light and fun, the seriousness would crush her far more than she realized.

Could she have made the journey without Rick by her side? Of course, though her tendency to favor fight over flight and use snark more often than necessary probably would not have done her any favors had she run into the group of belonging-stealing thugs without her diplomatic partner. She could have made the journey, fought her way through zombies as needed and collected supplies, but she wouldn't have smiled, so what would have been the point?

"Kate. Look."

As she had been gazing towards the road, Kate raised her chin to see that Rick pointed straight ahead at an approaching duo of zombies. As they were moving quite slowly and one of them appeared to be missing an entire arm, she did not feel largely threatened. Still, they would need to take them out of they wanted to continue traveling safely down the road. Instinctually, Kate's hand went to her hip and when she realized her knife sheath was missing, she briefly panicked until she remembered she'd been relieved of it several hours earlier. Bastards.

"C'mon," Rick said, gently cupping her elbow with his hand. "I think we can make it to that building over there without them noticing."

"And if the building is full of them?" she mumbled back to him.

"We'll deal with it."

Running on tip-toes in order to make as little sound as possible, Kate and Rick veered off the road into a parking lot to find themselves staring up at what appeared to be a small, mom-and-pop grocery store. The glass from door had clearly been broken open, meaning the building did not offer anything in the way of long-term shelter and more than likely it had been thoroughly ransacked for supplies, but if it gave them a hideout until the zombies shuffled past, it was worth checking out.

"Be careful." Kate warned as they stepped through the vacant door frame. "They could be in any of the aisles."

"I know."

They crept through the rows of vacant shelves one by one. Other than some broken bottles and an entire row of practically untouched cleaning supplies, the store did not have much to offer insofar as viable goods; as Kate predicted, it had been heavily picked through.

"They didn't even leave as much as a matchstick." Rick commented as he picked up an empty display box of Snickers bars and tossed it back onto the shelf, annoyed. "Let's see if there's a back room."

"Careful, there could be-"

He held up a hand to silence her and said, "I know."

Rick walked to the back storage area door, which was shut, and rattled the handle before pressing his ear to the door and listening. He repeated the process twice before whipping the door open and stepping back out of the way. After ten seconds, nothing emerged from the room, so he entered with Kate at his heel. Not two steps in the room he proclaimed, "No way! Jackpot!"

"What?" Kate said, hurriedly walking around him to find his discovery. There, along the far wall of what appeared to be a storage area and employee break room combined, was a rather aged looking vending machine. Though it was dust-covered and long past its prime it was delightfully stocked with goodies.

Rick turned to his companion and grinned. "I never thought I'd be so happy to find stale potato chips."

She let out a breathy laugh. Yes, the food was a good discovery, but unfortunately there was no water or any other drinks in sight. At that point, having finished the meager liquid serving green-shirt man left them, the importance of water trumped that of food.

Kate scouted the area while Rick smashed in the vending machine's glass front with a chair and collected their treasures. In a mini fridge under a grotesquely under-cleaned microwave she found an unopened can of Mountain Dew, which while not ideal was better that nothing and also appeared to be the only thing to drink left in the building.

They shared a bag of popcorn before grabbing a few spare shelving rods to use as makeshift weapons before heading back out onto the road. Rick suggested they walk for another half hour before beginning to look for shelter for the night and Kate agreed.

Kate startled awake the following morning, not sure what had pulled her from slumber. She blinked and gazed around the interior of the vehicle in which she and Rick had settled. It was stifling hot and in the early morning hour the light had not yet filtered too far into the garage, so it was also quite dark, but she did not see an immediate threat.

The prior evening after wandering around until almost dusk they had yet to find a suitably safe place to rest their heads; that's when the settled on the garage. While there was no nice place to lie down on the garage floor, the back seat of the sedan left behind was roomy enough. Plus, it came with the added security of being a place where zombies definitely could not access them. True, if they somehow managed to get into the garage they could surround the car and that would be problematic, but they certainly would not wake up with their limbs being gnawed on.

After eating some pretzels and sharing a small bottle of apple juice they'd found, they settled down to rest with Kate volunteering to take the first watch. Rick lay across the back seat as much as he could considering his large frame and rested his head against her thigh. He fell quickly to sleep while Kate stayed up for several hours contemplating their new situation and where it fell on the scale from moderately concerning to completely dire.

Clearly, their first task the following day needed to be finding water or at the very least, any viable source of liquids to intake. With their shopping bag full of snack foods, they were okay insofar as foodstuffs, but if the following day was as warm as that one had been, liquid would be critical. Past that, their lack of direction concerned Kate. Yes, they were walking south towards Philadelphia, and the closer they got the more signs there would be, but as Rick pointed out, the center of the city hardly seemed the most likely place for the safe haven. Even if they knew exactly where it was they would struggle without a map, but going completely blind? It seemed like a nearly impossible task.

After three hours, Kate gently stroked the hair of her companion until he awoke and they switched positions. Kate struggled to relax enough to sleep, but with Rick's hand smoothing down her arm, she was soon lulled into rest. Judging by the fact that it was now at least partially light outside, Kate felt she had slept several hours, which, considering the situation, was better than expected.

Grumbling to herself at how cramped her back and neck felt, Kate pushed herself up only to find that Rick was not awake watching over them, but that he had fallen back asleep. His head rested on the back of the seat, his mouth hung open and he snored. "Rick!" she said sharply, poking his arm with her index finger. He startled.

"Wh-what's-what?"

"It's morning; you were asleep."

"Shit! Sorry!" He quickly sat up and craned his next to gaze around the exterior of the vehicle; Kate mirrored his movements. "Looks like we're good though. I mean, nothing got into the garage."

"Right. It's light out, though, so we should get moving."

Rick nodded in agreement before popping open the car door and sliding to the edge of the seat, stating he would be back in a minute. Kate remained in the car, picking up their plastic bag of supplies from beside her feet. In doing so, she felt the hair from her pony tail sticking to the back of her neck and grimace. Damn, she already missed the treehouse and all its amenities. Hopefully, by day's end she would be wearing clean clothes and sleeping someplace safe.

Just as she was gazing into the bag, mentally deciding whether or not she wanted salt and vinegar chips for breakfast or sour cream and onion, she heard, "Uhh, Kate?" and immediately felt her face flush. Rick's tone was not light or conversational, but terror filled.

The bag of food abandoned, Kate pushed herself to the car door and froze when she saw her boyfriend standing just inside the garage door, his arms up in a goal post stance, palms facing out. A foot from him stood a bearded, pony-tail sporting man holding a gun up, muzzle facing directly towards the eyes of her boyfriend. "Shit." Kate cursed under her breath. Not again!

"Well, good morning, Sunshine," the gun-wielding man said, though his tone was not at all pleasant. "Why don't you step out of there very slowly and come join your friend."

"I feel it's only fair to warn you," Kate said as she slid out of the vehicle and raised her hands cautiously, "we were already robbed yesterday."

The ponytailed man chuckled. "Then you two have some shit-ass luck."

"She's not kidding." Rick continued. "We have three bags of chips and some crackers. If that'll get you to put the gun down, you're welcome to them."

The man chuckled again and, most amazingly, lowered his weapon. "Now you folks seem like nice people so I think we can come to an agreement here. As for your chips, I'm not too interested in those."

"Then…what do you want?" Kate asked as Rick shot her a look that said, don't ask questions you don't want to know the answers to!

"To take you back to our camp."

Kate said nothing, as she assumed the camp to which he referred was not the safe haven they sought. The writer, however, couldn't resist. "And what kind of camp would that be?"

The man winked at them before raising his gun and using it to gesture them out of the garage. "You'll have to see for yourselves. Outside. Now."

With her arms still raised, Kate followed her boyfriend into the backyard of the Philadelphia suburban home they'd hunkered down in. There, three more heavily armed men awaited them. One stepped forward and pulled Kate against him, trapping her biceps in his vice-like grip. Another stepped forward to presumably do the same to Rick, except instead he produced a zip tie and bound the writer's hands together in front of him. Kate tried to catch Rick's eye, but could not due to the angle at which she was being held.

The ponytailed man exited the garage and paced a small area in front of his colleagues and new hostages. "Now, if you folks continue to be nice and not resist, there's no reason for you to be harmed."

"I'm getting a feeling that this camp isn't going to be a place for us to get some food, water, and a nice bed, is it?"

The ponytailed man chuckled at the writer. "Smart man. Of course, we have food and water, but it must be earned."

"Earned how?" Rick asked.

The man tucked his gun into his back pocket and walked over to Rick, patting his shoulder with a grin. "Well, a sturdy gentleman such as yourself would make a mighty fine laborer, don't you think? And, as for this pretty little thing," he said as he walked over to Kate and stroked a finger down her cheek; she turned away in disgust. "Well, I'm sure there are plenty of things she can do to earn her keep."

Kate fought the urge to vomit at his comment, though it appeared her boyfriend was reacting in a different manner.

He lunged forward, spitting, "Don't you touch her!" only to be yanked back into position a moment later.

"I suggest you settle down, son." The ponytailed man warned.

Rick glared at him with a fiery gaze that actually made Kate swallow hard. Rick was clearly in a mood to protect her, which while incredible noble and sweet of him, scared her for she did not know how negatively their new foes would react; the last thing she wanted was for him to get hurt—especially not while protecting her.

"Then don't even think about putting a hand on her again." The writer spat.

"What? Like this hand?" The man laughed and took his left hand, fingers splayed, and placed it atop Kate's head. She tried to shrink away from the touch, but the thugs behind her held her too tightly.

"I said don't you fucking touc-"

But Rick's words were stolen from his mouth when the butt of the ponytailed man's gun came in contact with his temple. The writer's body immediately crumbled and his captors allowed him to sink to the ground, where he landed with an unpleasant 'thud' in the grass.

"Rick!" Kate shrieked out, attempting to lunge towards him on instinct, but she remained too tightly restrained. "Rick! Rick!" She called out his name desperately, but he was out cold. Her eyes never left the welt on his temple as her hands were bound with a zip tie in a similar manner as his had been.

"Get her to the truck." Ponytail man commanded.

"What about the guy?"

"Leave him."

"NO! No! Stop! Rick! Rick!" Kate screamed and thrashed against her captors. She dug her heels in and bent her knees, but it was no use. One of the men merely hoisted her up and carried her struggling body towards the street. As Rick's face began to disappear from her view, panic clutched Kate's throat and she fought to keep from sobbing.

They were supposed to stay together; together they would be safe. That's what Rick had promised her when they left the treehouse—they would stay together the whole time. No, he wasn't leaving her by choice, but still they were being separated, and there wasn't a damn thing she could do about it.

As the thugs shoved Kate into the back of a black pickup truck, she was not sure what terrified her the most: the fact that unconscious Rick lying in the middle of an unprotected yard could be subject to a zombie attack or the fact that it was entirely possible they would never be able to find one another again.

A/N: thank you for your patience during my week off from posting, though I don't imagine any of you are too much happier with me right now :) At least you only have to wait until Wednesday for the next chapter!