Day 875 - Midnight

Becca

Lucia's screams and moans echoed through the night as she stared wide-eyed at her elbow. It was bent back the wrong way, the bones sticking out of the front. Becca could almost feel the pain herself. It must have been so intense that Lucia didn't feel anything as she clutched it with the hand that Ivan had slammed under the truck door. Daniel lay on the ground next to his partner, gently moaning her name as he desperately squirmed towards her, unable to do much with his hands bound.

Then there were Ivan's cronies. Donald, the tall, African-American fellow, was standing to the far right of the collection of humans, seemingly wanting no part of this torture. Ethan, the hooded, slightly fat dimwit was enjoying the view in the centre of the road while Brandon, the gravelly-voiced 'clever' one was stood slightly to the left. Ivan the messy-haired, soft spoken tyrant was scanning his hostages for his next target.

Becca selfishly tried to spare herself. She averted her gaze in a desperate effort not to tempt Ivan. If he picked her she wouldn't know what to do. It was either suffer the same torment as Lucia and Daniel, or sell someone out – and truthfully she didn't know who had killed that bandit back at the mall. What if it had been Ralph? He wasn't around. Becca didn't know where he was. Maybe he'd ditched them – but then he'd been so keen to join up with them in the first place. Maybe he had been killed at some point.

Movement caused Becca to snap out of her trance. Ivan was walking towards the group, aiming to get answers out of Russell, Miles, Wyatt, Vince, Becca or Annie. He took a step towards Becca's side of the line of hostages, causing her heart to race, and then took one final look around. He smirked, and turned away. Becca felt disgusted that she was relieved.

Ivan looked at Vince, and then turned to one of his goons. "Ethan!" He ordered, "Grab this one."

For a split second, Vince's rage-filled expression changed to surprise and fear, but as the hooded man lifted him up onto his feet and pushed him forwards, towards the truck, he became angry once more. Ethan put Vince in a chokehold, causing him to bend over slightly. Ivan levelled his eyes with his captive's and spoke. "You seem like the leader of this little happy bunch. Was it you who ordered the kill - was it a little "executive decision" of yours?" He made air quotes mockingly.

Vince strained through the hold. "I didn't do it, if that's what you're asking. There were walkers down the hall. I wasn't going to shoot a guy, because it would've attracted them."

In an instant, Ivan lifted his hand and Ethan released Vince, slicing his bonds. The captive looked at the captor with relief and surprise, causing Ivan to speak once more. "You're a very silly man." He said, pulling a pistol out of its holster. "You say that like you would've shot David anyway if not for those walkers. You should think before talking, it could save your life." He lifted his pistol and smacked Vince across the face with it, knocking him onto all fours and creating a nasty gash. Before Vince could do anything, Ivan pointed the pistol at the back of his head. "I could kill you right now," he said, "and none of your friends could do shit. But I'm a kind man. I want to know who killed David, and then the rest of you can live… albeit in various states of pain." The man retracted his gun, stamped on Vince's hand and kicked him onto the ground. As Ivan walked away, he looked to one of his group – this time Donald. "Keep an eye on this one," he demanded, "I have a feeling he's a runner."

Donald nodded and closed in on Vince to make sure he didn't get any ideas. Miles scowled at Ivan and said, "You piece of shit." He only received a smirk in response.

Ivan looked at Wyatt and then turned to his gravelly-voiced companion, Brandon. "You can do this one; he looks like a fucking goon." He called half-heartedly. Before Wyatt could say anything, he was lifted to his feet and thrown further into the road as Brandon descended on him, kicking him and beating him with no restraint. Wyatt tried to curl up to shield himself but Brandon's attacks had already found their way to his stomach amongst other weak areas. "Don't use any knives or anything." Ivan called a few seconds later. "Don't get excited."

The leader of their captors strolled up and down, back and forth past the group members who were 'lucky' enough to still be kneeling with their hands trapped behind their backs – Russell, Miles, Becca and Annie. "Well, we're really down to the dregs of humanity, now aren't we?" He said as he looked at them one by one, "Steve Urkel, potty mouth, half hand and the fake-sleeper." He directed his next question at Annie. "How does it feel to waste our time, kiddo? I know you're connected to 'beardy' over there. How's it feel to watch him get beaten up? If you don't want to tell me now we can always try some other stuff."

Annie looked up at the man. Becca couldn't be sure what was going on in the head of a child half her age. When she was seven all she'd had to worry about were her parents trying to force her into an academy, hand-painting, multiplication, grammar and things of that nature. Annie was worrying about life-or-death situations, walkers, strange men. How she made it through the day Becca would never know.

"So, half hand." Ivan said, alerting Becca. "While we're taking a break, shall we talk about how you cheated death? How's it feel? Is it healing okay? Do you know who killed David?"

Becca looked Ivan in the eyes, and then shook her head. "No, I don't know. I'm sorry, but it wasn't me." Her hand still felt awkward where it was missing two fingers and a hefty portion of the palm itself.

Ivan paused. He seemed slightly surprised. He rested his hands on his hips and began pacing up and down the line again. "Well, you have manners, half-hand. I'll give you that." He said. "You're not off the hook, though. I have a hunger for revenge to satisfy and you're expendable - worthless, even. You hang with these folks. You're dirt."

Becca's heart sank. She knew she shouldn't even consider his opinion, but to be called worthless shook her confidence and hurt her to her core. Perhaps she had succeeded in avoiding his wrath for now. She looked at the road once again. Lucia had ceased screaming and was slumped against the truck. Daniel was lying on the ground next to her, his arms still sealed behind his back. Vince lay on the asphalt, not daring to attempt to rise as Donald stood over him, and Wyatt was still being kicked by Brandon – though his attacker had got bored quickly. Annie was looking at Wyatt too, slowly weeping in fear and confusion, not loud enough for anyone but Becca – who was immediately to her left – to hear.

"So, Steve Urkel," Ivan said, crouching in front of Russell, "Wanna make a confession?"

"Make a confession, my ass." Miles grunted. Ivan shot him a glance and then lifted his pistol, pointing it at Miles' face to shut him up. The captor looked back at Russell and continued their conversation. "Anything?" He asked, slapping Russell's face playfully.

"I don't have anythin' to say to you." Russell growled.

"A shame." Ivan said, and then withdrew his hand from Russell's face. He curled it into a fist and knocked him flat – with his wrists tied together, Russell had nothing to save himself with and his head made contact with the gravel, spilling blood.

Ivan pulled his pistol away from Miles' face and stood up again. "Three left," he muttered to himself, "What to do… what to do…"

Becca felt a chill as Ivan's eyes fell on her. "Sorry, half-hand – I know you have manners and all that, but it's your turn." He said, pacing over to her slowly. It seemed like it took forever, the time between each of his feet hitting the ground seeming like hours. Becca panicked. She felt herself shuddering as her eyes darted for any sign of escape. With nothing convenient to save her and all her friends trapped, she knew she was in for torment.

Ivan grabbed the chest of her jacket and lifted her to his feet. He pushed her past Donald, who was standing over Vince and shoved her towards the truck. Once they were there he gestured to Ethan, who lifted a switchblade. Becca started hyperventilating – she knew what she was in for. Before she knew it Ivan was slicing through her bonds. He gripped her left wrist and pinned it to the truck, pulling her sleeve up as he did so. His grip was too strong to escape. Becca felt like screaming as he held the blade and she felt it touch the hairs on her arm. She could feel his dirty, warm breath on her. It stank of alcohol and filth.

Ivan looked at the group. "First chance to sell someone out," he said. Daniel and Lucia were too out-of-it to pay attention, Wyatt was still being beaten. Vince was on the ground and Russell had a bleeding head to contend with. Miles was too loyal and too stubborn to sell anyone out, and Annie was weeping and didn't have the guts.

"First chance is gone." Ivan said, and sliced. Becca screamed in agony as blood spewed from a cut on the top of her left forearm. A searing pain ran through her arms as the cold metal tore through her skin, veins and nerves.

"Second chance." Ivan growled, moving the knife further up her arm. She wasn't paying attention anymore. She was trapped in a pain-induced spasm, screaming, wailing and crying at the burning pain running up her arm. Ivan's question was directed at her now. "Tell me who did it!" He growled.

"You fucking monster!" Miles yelled from behind, but he only earned a pistol whip from Ethan.

"Second chance is gone." Ivan growled as the burning sensation came once more. Becca's knees buckled as she felt red liquid spilling and dripping from her arm. "Stop it… please!" she screamed.

"Get the fuck off of her!" Miles yelled, still the only person in any state to complain. He was hit around the back of the head this time.

"THIRD CHANCE." Ivan yelled, and then counted down. Still no one told him anything. Becca didn't want to get anyone killed, even if that meant she would have to suffer this humiliation and pain, screaming and crying as slitting of her arm continued.

"You people are idiots." Ivan said calmly. "Third chance gone." He turned the knife sideways and slit in between the two cuts on Becca's arm. She wailed in pain once more as he pushed her to the ground, his hands covered in her own blood, accidentally knocking a backpack off of the back of the truck.

As Becca hit the ground, the noise she made alerted two people; Daniel and Lucia. The latter looked at her with disinterest and disregard as she cradled her snapped elbow. Daniel jumped at the noise but ignored her, instead opting to fiddle behind his back. Ivan swore and kicked the backpack out of her arm's reach.

Becca lay on her back, not doing anything. Her part of this was over now – at least she hoped so. She could feel the blood pouring from the three linked slices on her arm. She looked at the cuts, and pressed her bandaged right hand down on it in an attempt to stop the bleeding. She felt tears in the corners of her eyes. This was more painful than anything a walker could do. Her head was thumping; she had already suffered blood loss - too much more and she'd be a goner. She prayed she'd avoid that fate.

In the corner of her eye she noticed Ivan picking up another victim, a short one who cowered in his grasp. Annie. Was he really going to stoop that low?

Ivan called to Brandon to cease kicking Wyatt so that the latter could watch. He pushed Annie in front of him, knocking her onto his knees as he withdrew his pistol and held it to the back of her head. Becca lay on her back as she bled, noticing the other members of the group look up in horror. Russell was stirring, trying to push himself up. Vince was moving too, but Donald kept forcing him down. Daniel was still rigorously moving his arms up and down. Even Lucia released her injured elbow for a second as she looked up. Miles was desperate to stop him, yelling at the tyrant. Every time he called out Ethan beat him around the side of his head with his shotgun, but Miles didn't relent.

Becca saw Ivan's grip tightening on the trigger. She tried to call out to prevent him firing, but she couldn't. All that escaped her lungs was a weak rasp.

"Stop!" Someone yelled, presumably Wyatt.

"You fucking animal!" Miles bellowed at the man, only to be beaten around the head again. "Your friend is probably glad he's dead, so he doesn't have to watch a monster like you!"

"Stop, man, please!" Wyatt called.

Silence filled the air. Everyone stopped shouting. Becca heard Miles mutter something under his breath.

"What was that?" Ivan said his grip on the trigger loosening. "Say it again."

Miles paused, and then looked the man in the eyes, scowling. "I've got what you need."

"What?" Ivan asked.

"Let Annie go. Let this stop. I've worked out who you want."