End of this is pretty much a carbon copy of No Sanctuary, but with a few differences. So I don't own that.

Enjoy!

Blake scratched a fourth tally into the floor by her feet. She was making the days they had been in the car with her dagger, eternally grateful that she'd kept the weapon concealed. She would attack the residents of Terminus, but there was always more than one when they dropped off food and water, Carl didn't have a weapon, and both teens were too small to take on the men that were always at the door. They would be overpowered, and probably killed within seconds if they tried anything. So Blake kept the blade in her boot, except for the thirty seconds she would take to scratch a tally mark into the wood each day at sunrise.

Once the fresh line was complete, Blake slipped the dagger back into her boot and leaned back against the cold metal wall. Winter had definitely arrived, and even in a southern state, the air was cold and breath was visible all throughout the day in the train car.

Carl watched from the opposite corner of the train car as Blake put the dagger back in her boot and began absently scratching at her already scabbed over forearms.

"Blake." He said gently. She flinched and stopped scratching, surprised at Carl's voice as it brought her back to reality. The two hadn't spoken much since they had first been put into the car; since their initial conversation, the silence had only been broken when Carl warned Blake to stop scratching. He hated to make her talk, he knew he shouldn't and that her state of mind was extremely fragile given the current circumstances, but he had to ask. "Why do you do that?" It was a question that he had wanted an answer to since he'd first seen her do it. Daryl had stopped her that night, fearing she would hurt herself, and Carl has warned her every time she had started since.

"I want it off." She whispered.

"You want what off?" Carl pressed. If Blake wouldn't look at him, he at least wanted to hear her voice. He knew he was being selfish, but he wanted to help her. He could only do that if she told him what he could do.

"Him." Blake took a breath and Carl waited, recognizing the deep breath as a sign that she would continue after she gathered her thoughts. "I can still feel him… on me." Blake's voice was emotionless. "Everywhere he touched. It's like there's a ghost haunting me."

"Blake, he's dead." She didn't realise it, but Carl was almost comforted by her words. The second man hadn't gotten a chance to hurt her before she killed him. "He can't hurt you anymore. None of them can."

Suddenly, a familiar voice rang out from the other side of the door. "Opposite sides of the car!" Gareth's voice called. That was strange, Gareth had never delivered the water and canned goods the pair received every morning. Both remained where they were, considering they were at opposite ends of their prison, and waited for the door to open.

The lock clicked and the door creaked as sunlight came flooding into the car, momentarily blinding both of the kids. Gareth stepped in, looking at each of his captives. Two men followed him in, each one standing in front of a teenager, guns hovering inches from their faces.

"Until now, you've been leverage." Gareth began. "The others do what we say, we don't hurt you. But I've realised something." A smile played on Gareth's lips, not completely formed. "You aren't worth the resources. On your feet!"

Blake and Carl both stood, fearing for each other's safety.

"Good. Now hands behind your back, Carl." Carl complied while the other man kept his gun trained on Blake. The man that was next to him pulled out a large zip tie and fastened it around the teen's wrists. The hard plastic cut into his skin and began to cut off his circulation has a gag was stuffed into his mouth and tied around his head.

"Alright." The smile was fully there now as Gareth saw the compliance. "Your turn Blake."

Blake turned around and forced her mind to shut down as the man grabbed her arm. She took deep breaths, reminding herself that this wasn't the guy. He wasn't going to do that to her. She pushed the horrible memories down and slammed her walls up as the gag was shoved into her mouth with too much force. She grounded herself by thinking of Carl and what would happen to him if she did anything.

"Good." Gareth turned and headed for the door. "Let's go for a walk."

Carl was led out first, the sun burning his corneas as he saw the natural light for the first time in four days. He had watched Blake's face turn pale and her body stiffen as the man had laid his hands on her, wanting more than anything to stop the unknown torture she was going through. But he knew that if he spoke out, disobeyed Gareth in any way, Blake would be dead in a second.

They walked through the compound for about three minutes before coming to a stop in front of one of many metal doors. As they entered, Carl was shocked. There were two plain, metal tables, one with an unusually pale dead body on it, three bins labeled 'burn', 'feed' and 'wash', and a long, silver trough with six people on their knees in front of it.

Two of those people were Rick and Daryl.

Carl was forced onto his knees next to Daryl, and Blake was placed next to him. Rick's eyes widened in relief and horror when he saw the kids. He didn't know what was about to happen, but he guessed it was death, and he wasn't completely confident they were getting out of this one unscathed.

Rick locked eyes with Carl, giving him a firm nod that he hoped was comforting. It probably wasn't.

Daryl tried to make eye contact with Blake, but she just continued to stare at the bottom of the trough, blocking out reality as best she could.

Gareth was whispering with an unfamiliar man wearing a plastic apron and carrying a baseball bat, but no one could hear what either of them were saying as the sound of an electric saw buzzed to life across the room. Blake glanced over to see a man-who was also clad in a plastic apron-cutting the leg off of the dead body on the table in the corner of the room.

Apparently Blake had zoned out for a few minutes, entranced by the body across the room being mutilated, because Gareth suddenly reached out and grabbed Carl by the back of his neck, holding a knife less than an inch from his eye, and Blake had no idea why.

"What was in the bag, Rick?" Gareth asked. Blake knew he was talking about the bag Rick had buried in the woods before they had climbed the fence. It seemed like Gareth was asking the question again, threatening Carl to get an answer out of Rick.

"There's guns in it." Rick said immediately. Carl breathed heavily and stared at the tip of the knife that would probably cut his eyelashes if he blinked. "AK forty seven, forty four magnum, automatic weapons. Night scope. There's a compound bow and a machete with a red… red handle. That's what I'm gonna use to kill you." He nearly growled the last sentence.

"Thanks." Gareth released Carl and slid the knife back in its sheath before standing. "You know, we weren't going to kill you guys first. We just realised that the kids weren't worth the trouble we would have to go through to get them where we need them to be, and without them alive, you two would be real troublemakers." Gareth sneered. "So I decided that it would be best to do this now instead of holding off." Gareth stood in front of Carl and Blake, looking down at the kids. "You two are just so tiny, we're barely going to get anything from you as it is."

"Back to public face in two hours." Gareth looked to the man with the bat, and a man who had walked in, unnoticed, while Gareth was talking to Rick. This one held a very large machete.

Gareth left the room and Blake peered over to the men with the weapons, who were standing at the other end of the trough. She silently cursed, wishing they were closer so she wouldn't have to run across the room. Blake tried to keep the rest of her body as still as possible as she moved the fingers of her left hand towards the top of her boot. Just as her fingers closed around the hilt of her dagger, there was a loud crack, and the platinum blonde haired man at the end of the trough slumped forward, only to be pulled up by his hair and have his throat slit.

Bake's eyes widened along with the rest of the people kneeling on the ground. She quickly pulled the blade from her boot and tried to orient it so she could slice through the zip tie around her wrists, but her fingers were numb from poor circulation and her hands were not cooperating.

Another crack and spurt of blood sounded as Blake finally got her blade in the right place. As she began sawing at the plastic, the next man went down. She broke through the zip tie just as the final stranger's blood painted the shiny trough. Rick was next.

Just as Blake jumped to her feet, ready to lunge at the man with the bat, the ground shook and an ear shattering explosion ripped through the air.

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