So sorry for the delays. A lot of crap is going on here, and my laptop sucks. Sorry! Oh, and I might be putting up a new story soon (I know, dumb to do that, but still) so keep an eye out. It's going to be another Daryl story, but NOT a Daryl relationship story. If you read it, you'll know why. So keep an eye out for it!
Coming to, I realized that I was still being dragged. My shoulders ached, and I was struggling for breath in the bag. Two hands were under my armpits, dragging me over the hard ground, and I heard a figure next to me shuffling, struggling to keep up with the pace set with them. Must be Daryl.
My legs hit a sharp rock, and I yelped. With effort, I made it to my feet and stumbled after my captor.
"Look who woke up." A voice growled, then I was thrown into a chair. My hands were untied, only to be rebound to the arms of a wooden chair. My legs followed suit.
"Don't touch her." Daryl growled, sounding to be across from me.
"Shut up." There was a sickening thud, then a moan. Oh god. "We'll just leave you two here. When we come back, we're going to ask you a question. You better answer."
I heard a door shut, and automatically went into action. I threw my head forward, then backwards, making sure not to hit my head on the back of the chair. Continuing this action until the bag started to slip off my head, Cheerful, I kept this going. Finally, the bag fell off my head.
"Yes." I whispered, eyes adjusting to the sudden light. The room was small, dirty. There were only my chair and Daryl's, and I noticed that he wasn't moving. There was a bright light hanging over our head, which shocked me. How did they have lights now? Maybe a generator…
"Daryl." I hissed, pulling at my ropes. "Daryl Dixon, get your ass up." My head was on a swivel, trying to spot any originally unseen dangers. "Crossbow! Please!"
He groaned, and his head, still bag covered, swayed slightly. "Becca?"
"Yes! Daryl, they're coming back. Whatever happens, don't tell them about the others. No matter what they do to me, don't tell them anything. Okay?"
"Red, don't make me do tat." He grumbled, obviously still struggling with his head wound.
The door sung open at that point, and I sucked in a breath. They both sported guns proudly on their hips. One, a middle aged man, had a cigarette planted between his lips. The other man, probably late twenties, had his arms crossed over his chest and leaned against the door, shutting it.
The smoker moved and pulled the bag off of Daryl's head. Blood tricked from his temple, but the moment his eyes adjusted, I could tell he was in hunter mode.
Younger man moved over to my chair, pushing me back until just the back two legs of the chair were there. His face was right in my face. A smirk that reminded me of Scowl was painted across his face.
"Well aren't you a pretty little thing? I'd hate to ruin that face of yours." He ran a sweaty, dirty hand down my face, and I jerked away. His hand wrapped around my face and forced me to look at him. "You're looking healthy too. A little girl like you ain't just wondering with a redneck. Where is the rest of your group?"
"Why do you want to know?" I grumbled out, struggling against his hand.
"See, our group is running outta supplies. I'm sure your group would be nice enough to share." His face next to mine, forcing me to look at him, made me sick.
"We don't have a group. It's just us." I grumbled.
He took his hand back, only to quickly replaced it with a quick slap to my face. "Don't you lie to me, bitch!" He yelled, his spit covering my face in his rage.
"I'm not lying." I kept my voice even, turned my face to the side and spit the blood that had trickled from my lip to my mouth.
"What about you, redneck? You going to lie to us?" The smoker asked, getting in Daryl's face. I bit the inside of my cheek, making sure not to show anything towards Daryl.
"It ain't no lie. It's just us."
That earned his a swift punch to the face. "So, is she your girlfriend?" The man muttered, tilting his head towards me.
"Nah. Just a bitch who asked me fer help."
Another punch, but now the attention was on me.
"So, if you ain't his girlfriend, that means your open. Don't it?" The smoked asked, and moving down to my breast.
I struggled under his grip, which earned me another slap, but he moved his hand. "Now, you better stop that."
"Or what?" I growled out, trying to get them worked up so maybe they'd just leave. It's worked for my brother in the past.
"You got a mouth, don't cha, lil' whore?" He asked, took the cig from between his lips, and started to gesture around my body. "Jimmy, where do ya think I should do this?"
The younger man, Jimmy, started to run his hands up and down my arms. I jerked away, but he kept it up. "Not the face man. Too cute for that." He ran his hand over my face, and pushed my hair over one shoulder.
"Arm then?"
Jimmy nodded. "Yeah, that'll work."
With that, the man dropped the cigarette onto my forearm, smashing the embers onto my arm.
I let out a cry of pain, tears streaming down my cheeks as I tried to pull my arm away. With no luck.
"Please stop!" I cried out, feeling my flesh burn.
He lifted the cig, lifting an eyebrow at me. "You going to tell us where your group is then?"
"Yes." I cried, my skin still burning. "Just make it stop!"
Jimmy grabbed a water bottle and poured all of the contents on my arm, causing the burning to dull, but only slightly.
"Where are they?"
"Becca!" Daryl roared, struggling against his ropes.
The man with the cigarette turned around . "I'm getting tired of you." He pulled out tape and put it over his mouth. Which Daryl didn't like, but couldn't do anything about it.
The man behind me placed a knife to my neck, putting enough pressure to draw blood, which stung like hell, but didn't do any other damage. "Where are they?" He growled.
My mind was flying a million miles a minute. What could I say? "We're staying at the Wal-Mart in town."
"I don't believe you." He pressed the blade harder into my flesh, and I whimpered. Daryl was thrashing in his seat.
"But we are! Aisles 3,4,5, and 6. Canned food, packaged food, blankets, and containers. I promise you."
He pulled the knife away and nodded to the other man. "You better hope so."
Then they were gone.
"We have to get out of here." I said, and started to pull at my restraints. My wrists were bleeding, and I could still feel the steady trickle falling from my neck, being sopped up by my shirt.
Daryl looked at me, concern obvious in his face. If they came back and found out I was lying, we were both dead.
That lit something in me. I couldn't let them kill Daryl. Leaning forward, I discovered that I could reach, uncomfortably, the ropes with my teeth. Grabbing the rope between my teeth, I started to jerk upwards, loosening the knot. Somehow I managed to loosen it enough to pull my right hand free. Maybe they tied the knot too loose. Maybe my struggling had helped with that. The why didn't matter, what mattered is that I was free.
I quickly untied my left hand, then my legs. Jumping up, I ignored the blood flowing from my wounds, and moved over to Daryl. Pulling the tape off of his mouth, I looked at them, then started to remove him from the chair.
"Becca, you're bleeding." He whispered, wiping some blood away from my neck.
"We'll deal with it if we get out." I muttered, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the door.
"Becca." he muttered, turning me around and kissing me passionately. "If anythin' happens, ya need ta know I love ya."
I was frozen in my tracks for half a second, then quickly kissed him on the lips and smiled weakly. "I love you too."
Pulling open the door, I looked to the right and left. The hallway was clear, but damn it, I didn't know how to go anywhere. "Do you know which way we came?" I whispered, trying to figure out anything that would give the direction away.
"No."
"Damn it." I looked closer. There had to be something. Then I saw it. "Rock." I pulled him to the right, toward a rock that was on the ground.
"What?" He whispered.
"I hit my leg on a rock. Now shut up and run."
We hurriedly made it down the hall, and when we came to turns, we started to take them at random. Since we were out in the open now, we couldn't stop. A turn came, we took it.
Then there was commotion. Daryl pressed me against a wall and looked around. We didn't see anything, so we started to run again. The shots grew louder, and there was screaming.
We stopped, couldn't make it any farther unless we ran right into the crossfire. My head was spinning anyway, and I leaned against Daryl. He wrapped his arms around me, and I heard a tearing noise. Looking, I saw him rip the bottom of his shirt, and pressed it to my neck. He lowered me to the ground and squatted in front of me. "Becca, you can't go any more. You lost too much blood."
"Then you go." I whispered, replacing his hands on my neck with mine. "Go."
"Just when I thought ya weren't a complete idiot." He muttered, looking around. The shots were getting quieter, but I couldn't tell if they really were or if I was about to pass out.
"Are the shots stopping?" I mumbled.
"Yah Becca, they are." He looked around, and I started to see them.
"Run." I mumbled, seeing figures with guns running towards us. I pushed him, but he didn't move. Was he planning on dying with me?
"No Becca." He smirked and picked me up, cradling me against his chest. "We ain't runnin' no more."
Okay, I don't really like this chapter. I rewrote it twice, but it just won't come out the way I like it. And I think the next chapter is going to be the last chapter, just a cute little wrap up. Let me know what you think.
Question of the day:
Do you prefer happy endings or realistic endings?