ELEVEN

Sitting in the back seat of a pickup truck, her eyes blindfolded with what she hoped was a clean shirt and her hands bound together, Kate Beckett tried her best to remember her police training. Granted, while there were many lessons on hostage negotiations, dealing with individuals in highly volatile situations, and even talking jumpers off ledges, the section in the handbook about what to do if you're kidnapped was decidedly short. She was, however, familiar with the pamphlets and teachings they provided to school-aged children on what to do if they were in a kidnapping situation.

First and foremost on the list of tips for kidnapping victims was: be observant. As a detective, she was already quite observant, but unfortunately their post-apocalyptic world made normal observant skills quite difficult. For instance, she normally would have been listening for sounds like traffic or trains to give herself an indication of where she might be. However, there were no vehicles or trains, or even the hum of electricity; it was entirely possible their car was the only one on the road.

Another tip for a kidnapped victim put into a vehicle was to attempt to memorize turns and stops to, again, discern a final destination. In that case, it was generally beneficial to be familiar with the point of abduction, which Kate was not. Furthermore, she found it incredibly difficult to follow or construct a pattern in her mind due to the fact that their turns were frequent and their speed changed almost constantly. Kate could only assume this was due to the fact that the kidnappers, like she and Rick, had been encountering blocked roadways.

The part far worse than actually being restrained and blindfolded was the even if she had been able to trace her exact location and would have therefore been able to return to the garage she was taken from once she was able to escape, what would she be going back to? Rick surely would not still be there. She hoped he would continue on towards the Philadelphia safe haven, but feared he might come after her and try to rescue her. What would happen to him then? Would he wander around in circles until he, too, became a victim?

Shaking such thoughts from her mind, Kate sucked in a deep breath and tried her best to calm her heart rate and focus. She needed to think about survival. She needed to keep her head, pay attention, not fly off the handle or antagonize; that was the key to beating the odds stacked against her.

Though police training did not give too much background knowledge with regards to being kidnapped, her hostage training could come into play to provide some key knowledge. First, the longer she stayed a prisoner, the less her odds were of having a happy ending. Considering she really wanted that happy ending, she needed to try and escape at the first clear opportunity. Once she was away from them she would figure out how to get back to Rick, but she needed to take it one step at a time.

They drove for what Kate estimated to be a twenty or thirty minutes before Kate heard the vehicle's breaks squeal and the truck came to a full stop. Up until that point, her kidnappers had not said much of anything, and she could not help but wonder if that was somehow intentional; to keep her as in the dark (literally and figuratively) as possible. However, when the vehicle stopped, one man directed two others to get out. Kate did not hear the car doors close, but a moment later she heard the sounds of metal clanking against metal. It sounded as though a fence or a gate was being opened meaning the compound in which she was now an unwilling captive was secure. Not exactly surprising, but would potentially complicate a future escape.

Once the clanking of metal ceased, Kate felt the vehicle rock as the two men climbed back inside. Then, their doors slammed shut and the truck progressed forward. Sitting as tall as she could in her seat, Kate began straining her ears to hear every little thing that happened around her; she had no idea what small, seemingly insignificant moment might just help her escape in the future.

When the vehicle stopped once more, Kate heard all four doors open and felt someone grabbing onto her right elbow and pulling her towards the exit. She tried her best to slide along the seat, but ended up stumbling out as the man pulling her did so far too quickly. She landed hard against the pavement as she was unable to properly judge the distance from the truck door to the ground and stumbled, fighting to wince at a pain in her left shin.

"I thought you were on a supply run."

The male voice Kate heard was from a distance and clearly not from one of her group of captors.

"We were, but we found something even better." Kate identified this voice as the one from the ponytailed gunman who had ruined their peaceful morning.

"Her?" The first speaker was drawing closer. His tone did not sound shocked or annoyed, merely curious.

"Yeah. Think she'll make El Capitan happy?"

The first speaker, who now sounded close enough for Kate to reach out and touch, chuckled. "You think you can get on his good side by bringing him a piece of ass?"

"Can't hurt," the ponytailed man said. Kate could almost hear the smirk that must have been on his face and fought the urge to grimace.

From the moment the ponytailed man had stroked her face and mentioned there would be ways she could "earn her keep" Kate feared the very worst, and with one simple statement her fears had been confirmed. Sick as it was, she could not entirely say she was surprised. When the world degraded, so did propriety and social decorum and as an attractive woman she would, unfortunately, be no exception to such debauchery.

Kate sucked in a deep breath and steeled herself for the coming hours. She would play along, she would do her best not to antagonize or upset the kidnappers unnecessarily. She needed to give them a reason to treat her fairly and with respect; however, she would not allow herself to be assaulted or even to be put into a situation where she could be assaulted, which meant she needed to make every effort to outsmart them and obtain her freedom. Task number one: removing the blindfold, as it severely limited her ability to appropriately assess her surroundings.

"C'mon; let's go."

Kate felt herself grabbed roughly beneath the left armpit by a man whose voice she did not recognized. Trying to keep up the best she could, she was half dragged across ground she guessed to be pavement or, at the very least, very packed down gravel. It had a firm texture and was definitely not dirt or grass. After about fifteen steps she heard the metal creak of a door being opened.

Though her blindfold did not allow too much external light to filter in, Kate could tell immediately that the building she entered was poorly lit, at least in the entry-area. As she continued forward, she guessed they were now in a building with concrete floors and possibly even cinderblock walls. At the very least, the area was minimally filled because the interior echoed far more than a normal office building or home would have.

After taking a few turns around building corners and going through one more heavy metal door, Kate's captor came to a halt and Kate could hear the jingling of keys. Great, she thought, a prison cell. Perhaps they were in an actual prison; it would explain the concrete floors and walls.

Not a moment later Kate heard yet another metal door being opened and felt a hand placed in the center of her back to give her an unceremonious shove forward. She stumbled at the sudden force and then came to a stop, not knowing where she was. As though her captor read her mind, her blindfold was swiftly removed.

Kate blinked and looked around the area. As the room was very dark, she did not need her eyes to adjust to any sort of difference in light for more than a few moments. Glancing around, she determined she was not in a prison cell, but some sort of industrial boiler room; as evidence a metal furnace-looking object loomed silently in one corner. Turning back around, she saw a man around six-foot tall with heavily tattooed arms smirking at her.

"Guess you can just hang out in here for a while," he said to her. She held out her bound wrists in a silent plea for him to cut the zip ties but he merely shook his head. He took a step towards the exit, but she stopped him with, "Wait. May I have some water, please?"

He glanced briefly over his shoulder and said, "Maybe later—if you're good." With that, he kicked the metal door closed behind him; the slam as it contacted with the door frame made Kate shudder. Well, there certainly would be no escape from this room.

Sighing, Kate paced around the area she estimated to be a nine foot square box and assessed her situation. She was, most thankfully, uninjured and aside from the zip ties on her hands, unrestrained. The prior morning when she and Rick set out on their journey, they had both been well fed and watered. Given that she had a small amount of food and liquid the day before, she was in no way desperate for water. However, the boiler room was warm (though, she imagined, not as warm as it would have been had the boiler been on) and she was sweating. Soon, her need for water would become paramount. Before that time came, she hoped to earn some water by "being good" in ways that did not involve any level of degradation.

With a slight grunt of frustration, Kate pressed her back against a wall and sunk down into a crouching position. Alone and out of imminent danger, her thoughts drifted back to Rick. How hard had the ponytailed man hit him with the butt of the gun? How long had he been out? Surely, he would be awake by then—and preferably zombie-bite-free. Had he set out after her? Had he run into any more trouble?

Unfortunately, she could find out the answers to any of those questions. All she could do was wait and hope for the best for both him and herself.

Richard Castle awoke with his face pressed down into a chunk of grass and groaned. What had happened? Why was he on the ground? What was—shit! Zombies!

He pushed his palms against the ground and jumped up as quickly as he could despite the pounding in his left temple. He spun around on the spot, but found himself alone in the back yard. Quickly, he surveyed his hands, arms, legs and torso to find that, mercifully, he appeared to be bite free. Bite free, but alone.

Kate.

Quickly, Rick rushed into the garage where they had spent the night, but could not say he was shocked to find it empty. He walked back out to the yard and followed the driveway to the street which was, again, empty. Shit.

Kate and their attackers were gone. Considering his less than conscious state, he felt it safe to assume that Kate had not voluntarily gone with them.

Shit.

Walking back in to the garage, he stood with his right hand covering his mouth and his left resting against the trunk of the car. The way he saw it, he had two options. His kneejerk reaction was to attempt to find Kate. Who knew what the gun-wielding ponytail man would do to her, but he could only assume it was nothing good. Even if she was perfectly safe, they were still separated, which was clearly a far from ideal situation. They needed to stick together; that's what they had promised each other before leaving the treehouse.

His initial plan was a good one—the one he wanted to act on—however it also seemed the most impractical. The ponytailed man's encampment could have been literally anywhere. Given how they were speaking, Rick could only assume they did not arrive on foot but by vehicle, thereby expanding the range they could travel. They could have taken Kate dozens of miles in any direction and he had absolutely nothing to go on and nowhere to begin looking.

Thus, he was forced to consider plan number two: continue towards the safe haven in Philadelphia based on the hope that whenever Kate was able to get herself out of the situation she was in, she, too, would travel there and they would be reunited. Once again, this solution was not ideal. Rick still had no idea where the safe haven was; nor did Kate. Even if he managed to make it there, there was no guarantee she would and vice versa.

More frustrated than ever, Rick began to pace the small garage space. He doubted their story was an atypical in the apocalyptic times. He had not been separated from his group, but more his group mutually came to the agreement to dissolve after their food and water ran out. Yet, others he had encountered along the way told tales of becoming separated. Even Kate spoke about being unable to find her NYPD partner after an attack, which sparked her decision to proceed alone.

Had it been any other situation, had it been any other person, Rick might have thrown in the towel and let the situation be what it was, but this wasn't an ordinary person. This wasn't a random traveler he'd met along the way and formed an alliance with solely for the factors of safety and practicality. This was the woman he loved and he was going to do whatever it took to find her again.

Lifting up his hands to shield his face, Rick blinked at the road ahead of him. Even with the sunglasses he'd picked up, the beating midday sun still made it difficult to see long distances. Then again, maybe it was just because he was hallucinating due to thirst. Eating that bag of salt and vinegar chips definitely had not been a wise decision.

Judging by the position on the sun in the sky, Rick guessed it to be early afternoon, which meant he had been wandering around for a little more than five hours. In that time he'd found nothing but abandoned cars, abandoned houses, and sticks and branches littering the road. There had been no signs of an encampment or any place a group of survivors could have stayed. Hell, he hadn't even found so much as a bottle of water or even a can of soda; there had simply been nothing but deteriorating houses and piles of junk.

Rick's original intention had been to travel away from the garage where Kate had been taken in the form of a spiral. That way, he would cover all directions as he slowly made his way away from the last place they were together. Without a compass, map, or any means of getting his bearings other than the sun, Rick knew he was not traveling in the exact trajectory he wanted to. Though he tried his best to stay on course, he literally could have been walking in any direction or in any number of spiral or circular patterns.

When the sun, along with his thirst, reached its highest point, Rick decided to abandon his circular plan and stay on a main road heading towards Philadelphia. Though it broke his heart to give up on her that way, he knew he could wander around for days, never find her, and end up succumbing to the elements or dehydration. He had memorized the corner of the street on which their garage haven sat. In doing so, he hoped that once he found a camp he would be able to return with a vehicle, perhaps even a search party and thereby increase his odds of finding Kate.

As sweat continued to pour off his brow, Rick stumbled on some roadside debris. He had not been paying attention to where he was walking and his foot caught on a tree limb. As he stumbled forward, trying to regain his balance, he ended up stepping off the roadway, which already had a steep embankment. The loose dirt moved beneath his feet and he helplessly slid along with it for several feet until his foot caught a rock and he pitched forward, landing with a thud onto his hands and knees. Grumbling to himself, he pushed himself upright, brushed off the now dirty knees of his pants and clambered back up towards the road.

No sooner had he stood upright once more did Rick notice a red SUV approaching from the direction he'd been walking. Immediately, terror clutched in his throat. Could he really survive being robbed for a third time in two days? With nothing left to give, would they take the clothes from his back and leave him stranded naked in the middle of zombie country? Or, were they the same thugs who had taken Kate, returning to take him as well. While clearly not a preferable situation, at least he would be able to see her again.

There was, of course, another option. The occupants of the approaching vehicle might not want to rob him. Perhaps they could prove to be allies. At the very least, they might be able to provide him with the water he so desperately needed. If things went extra well, maybe he could even get them to lend him a car so he could search for Kate.

Standing on the side of the road as the SUV was no more than a quarter mile away, Rick decided he would face them and not run. Knowing that might be the last decision he made as a living, breathing human, Rick's stomach rolled when he noticed the vehicle beginning to slow. Unlike with his written works, it was impossible to predict the ending of this encounter. Silently, he hoped for a positive one.

When the SUV stopped in front of him, Rick saw that it had two occupants—both men. Unlike the two groups of antagonists he and Kate had run across, these men were clean shaven and wearing clothing that did not appear ragged or dirty. To him, this was already a good sign. Smiling as much as he could in his unhappy state, Rick said, "Afternoon."

"Afternoon yourself." The driver, a slender-looking Asian man responded. "You in need of any help?"

Hoping the question was not a trap, Rick began, "Well…actually, yes. My girlfriend and I were traveling towards Philadelphia, but we were robbed…and then she was kidnapped."

"Jesus." The passenger commented. "When was that?"

"About six hours ago? Maybe? First thing this morning."

The passenger glanced over at the driver and the driver nodded. "You have any food or water on you?"

Rick reluctantly pulled the packet of peanut butter crackers from his pants pocket—his only remaining worldly possession—and held it up for them to see. The driver jerked his chin towards the back seat. "Get in."

"Oh, I…" Rick hesitated as all the lessons he'd taught his daughter about not getting into cars with strangers flashed into his mind.

"We'll take you back to our camp; we have plenty of food and water there."

His tongue feeling as dry as ever, Rick swallowed hard. "I'd appreciate that very much, but my girlfriend…"

The passenger gazed over at him. "You won't find her at all if you die of dehydration. Just come back with us and maybe we can figure something out."

Rick remained frozen, but only for a moment more before he reach out, somewhat reluctantly, and grasped the rear passenger car door. As concerned as he was about the intentions of the two men in the SUV, his survival instincts were weakening as they were quite right. He may have been able to spend another day looking for Kate, but with the heat he doubted he'd make it much longer without water and something more substantial then crackers to eat.

As he pulled the car door shut, the men took off again. The passenger turned around and asked, "What's your name? Where ae you from?"

"Rick Castle, Manhattan."

The man nodded. "I'm Henry; this is Pete. We're both from the Philly area. You walk all the way here from New York?"

Rick shook his head. "We had a car…took us about fifty miles, maybe, but otherwise yeah; it was all on foot."

"What's your girlfriend's name?" the driver asked, using the rear view mirror to glance back at Rick.

"Kate; it's Kate."

"Well, Rick, we'll help you find her if we can."

"Thanks." Feeling as weary as ever, Rick leaned back against the seat and gazed distantly out the window and wondered where Kate was—and if she was safe. Sadly, it was possible he might never find out.