Author's Notes: Had to do a fair bit of editing for this chapter before I was sort-of happy with it, I'm still not sure about the final result... but I'll let you be the judge. This story idea just sort of popped into my head one day, so I may have rushed it a bit.

When David woke, he found himself desperately hoping that the previous night's events were little more than a nightmare. To that end, he kept his eyes shut type, as if keeping them closed long enough would cause his bedroom to materialize around him when he finally opened them.

But he could still smell the musky odor of the barn, and it was too quiet outside for this to be anywhere near Trolberg. Moreover, he could still feel the cold clasp of the iron shackle around his ankle, hear the jangle to the chain as he rolled over in his makeshift bed.

There was nothing for it. Shutting his eyes to reality of his dilemma wouldn't do him any good. Bill said he would be out in the fields today, and that meant David could start looking for means of escape.

So he opened his eyes. The Old Man was still there, slumped over in his chair, clearly asleep... and still clutching the hunting rifle in his gnarled hands. David wondered for a moment if there was a way he could steal the gun while the Old Man slept. If he managed to do that, he could swipe the keys from his pocket, unlock the shackle on his leg, and run out before his son woke up-

Before David could even begin to act on this hastily thought up plan, the lock on the barn door clicked, and Bill stormed in, with Junior by his side. Bill look from David, to the unnamed boy on the other bed, to his sleeping father.

"Lazy oaf," Bill remarked as he spat on the floor.

"Papa?" He said, kicking the Old Man in the shins. "C'mon now, get up! I told you not to fall asleep on watch again!"

The Old Man didn't move a muscle. Bill shook his head.

"Lord have mercy," Bill sighed. "This is why I need these boys to work the field. Can't get no decent help around here... Papa?"

Bill jabbed him in the side again. The Old Man still wouldn't stir. David was beginning to think he wasn't just sleeping...

"Papa? Papa! C'mon now, rise and shine!" Bill urged.

Billy-Boy stepped forward, and grabbed the old man's wrist.

"It's cold," said Billy. "An' I don't feel a pulse."

"What!?" Bill shouted, shoving his son to the side.

"Papa! C'mon now, don't you do this to me..." Bill pleaded, shaking his father vigorously. The rifle tumbled from the Old Man's grasp as Bill hoisted him from the chair and laid him on the floor of the barn.

"Daddy... it's too late," said Billy mournfully. "He must've passed away last night, in his sleep. It could've happened right after we all left..."

Bill stared down at his father's body, his eyes wide with shock as he struggled to cope with the situation. He looked to be on the verge of tears... until his eyes found David, and shock turned to rage as he straightened up and advanced towards David's bed.

"Why the hell didn't you say anything!?" Bill demanded.

"What!? I didn't-"

Before David could finish, Bill had unfastened in his belt and whipped him across the face.

"You could've hollered! Bill roared. "I could've saved him if you'd just said somethin', you selfish little runt!"

"I was asleep!" David protested. "I didn't even notice until you tried to wake him just now!"

David lie crumpled against the barn wall, holding his hands up in front of his face for fear that Bill might strike him again. A few tears fell down his cheeks as he shook with fear, cowering like a whipped dog. But Bill seemed to be torn between mourning his father and taking his anger out on the little boy he so unjustly blamed for his death, and took to pacing the barn, running his hands through his hair as he struggled to make up his mind. On the other side of the room, David could see the other boy was stirring awake.

"Daddy?" Said Billy. "Jake's just about up."

"Right... okay," said Bill. He turned to David. "Well now, I guess you know what your job for today is going to be now, don't you?"

"No sir," said David, shaking his head.

Bill rolled his eyes. "Well then, allow me to enlighten you... you and ol' Jake over there," (he gestured towards the other bed) "...are going out to the edge of the field where my grandparents been buried. And you're gonna dig the hole while I take my father inside and make him presentable for the Lord."

"And you'd best have done by noon," Bill threatened. "I got other work that needs doin', and I'm gonna need both of you to make sure it gets done on time."

"What should I do, daddy?" Asked Billy.

"First, go get your ma' and let her know what's happened," Bill ordered. "I'll bring your grandpa inside after I get that other lazy lump out of bed."

"Yes sir," said Billy.

"After that I need you to show these two boys what needs doin' round here," Bill told him. His son nodded and left the barn. Bill turned to the other boy, who was still partly asleep, and kicked him sharply in the side.

"Jake!" He shouted. "C'mon, Jake! I don't have time for your bullocks today! I need you up and out there in the field. Do you hear me, boy! I said up, you lazy piece of human excrement!"

The other boy groaned as sat up, and David got a good look at him for the first time. He was the same age as David, a white boy with dark brown hair, a plain blue t-shirt and black shorts, grey sneakers, and with hazel eyes partially hidden behind a pair of dirty, cracked glasses. He looked to be in even worse shape that David; his clothes were filthy and torn, and his arms, legs, and face were covered in cuts, bruises, and burns. As he sat up, David caught a glimpse of his ribs poking through his t-shirt. There was an awful smell come from him as well, like he hadn't bathed in months. Like David, he was chained at the ankle.

"About time," Bill snapped as Jake rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. "You best get fully awake, because as soon as Billy-Boy gets back, I need you and David over there out and the yard. You're gonna be doin' some diggin' today."

"Is it my grave, or his?" Jake asked dryly.

"Don't you get cute with me," Bill warned, raising his belt threateningly. "My father just passed, and I mean to give him a proper send-off. In the meantime, I don't need your attitude on top of everything else, you hear me boy!?"

"Yes sir," said Jake, eyeing the belt fearfully. He looked past Bill towards David, and his eyes narrowed suspiciously. There was something about the way Jake looked at him that seemed... off. Somehow, David didn't think they were going to be friends.

"Alright then, boys," said Bill. "Welcome to the last day for the rest of your lives."

As they stepped outside, David found he had to raise his arm to shield his eyes from the glare of the sun. Once his eyes adjusted to the light, he had an opportunity to take in his surrounding.

The first thing that registered in his mind was that they were still deep in the mountains, as the Abbot's farm was surround by a wall of pine trees. They were most likely on the opposite side of the mountain from Trolberg; Bill had said he'd found David on "his property", and unless he considered all the unclaimed land in the surrounding woods to be his, that meant they couldn't be too far from where David had fallen.

Then there was the farm itself. David saw Bill's white house to his right as he stepped out the side door to the born. There was also a second barn built parallel to the first, though it looked to be in much better shape. To his left was a hayfield, a garden, and a tool shed at the far end of the property all enclosed with a low, rickety old wooden fence. David could see where they were meant to work through the crumbling hay stalks; a pair of headstones near the edge of the fence, next to the garden.

Bill waited for his son to return before doing anything else. Once Billy-Boy assured him that his mother was ready for him, Bill took a ring of keys from his pocket and walked the three boys over to the other barn, pulling David and Jake along by their chains.

Bill unlocked the door to the second barn and sent his son inside. David chanced a peak inside the other barn, and saw that it was in fact an armory; from his vantage point, David could see that the inside of the barn was reinforced with concrete, the walls painted stark-white, and had shelves stockpiled with rifles, handguns, grenades, ammunition, and what looked to be boxes full of explosives... not dynamite though. Unless David was mistaken, the olive drab crates inside would be packed full of C4, and there was a steel barrel inside with a large warning label indicating that it was filled with thermite.

David wasn't sure he wanted to know how Bill Abbot had such a large stockpile of weapons and explosives, or why. Maybe he was just paranoid, living out in the woods like this. Or maybe he was planning to do something crazy with all of that gear.

David didn't have much time for gawking as Billy-Boy came out with a pair of new rifles for himself and his father, along with several spare magazines for his father's battle rifle, plus a box of cartridges for himself. Bill handed off the bolt-action rifle to his son, which he placed back in the armory, having chosen a lever gun to replace it.

"Get these boys to work while I tend to your grandfather," Bill commanded. Billy-Boy obeyed, taking the chains from his father and pointing his rifle at the other two boys, who began dejectedly walking towards the field.

"Don't you even think about runnin' just cause my daddy ain't here," Billy warned them. "If I don't get ya', the townsfolk will; last kid who tried to run for it made the mistake of goin' to the town sheriff. Didn't realize he was a good man; the sheriff made sure my father's property was returned to him promptly."

"That's hardly what I'd call a 'good man,'" David snapped.

"Shut up, an' keep walkin'!" Billy ordered, pointing his rifle at David's back. Inwardly though, David smiled; Billy had given him one piece of valuable information. It wasn't just them out here, there was a whole town, and the locals were not to be trusted. How an entire town could be complicit in Bill's sick game, kidnapping young boys that got lost in the woods, David had no idea.

But he found himself wondering what happened to the kid Billy mentioned. Jake had clearly been here for months at least, and it sounded like there'd been others before him. Just how long had this been going on?

David looked around, as if expecting to see other kids working out in the yard, but it was just the three of them. Billy brought them to the tool shed first, retrieving a pair of shovels from inside. Then he lead them over to the graves, and showed them where to start digging.

"Get to work," he commanded, throwing the shovels on the ground. "The hole needs to big enough for grandpa to fit in, and at least six feet deep. The two of you should be able to get that done by noon."

"When do we eat?" David asked. Billy grinned wickedly at them.

"You eat whenever my daddy says so," Billy told them mockingly. "Now dig."

Billy secured the ends of their chains to a pair of longer chains that ran all the way up to the tool shed. They were long enough that they could move freely around the yard, but not long enough for them to go any farther than the barn. Looking over the fence down the hill from where they dug, David could see other buildings through the trees, and was close enough that he could hear the hustle and bustle of a small village just waking up for the day. Neighbors chatting amicably, a baby crying from an upstairs window, children playing in the yard while the buzz of a lawnmower filled the air, and a truck could be heard backing down the driveway of a nearby house.

David turned his attention to his fellow captive, who'd already started digging, seeming indifferent.

"So, um... h-how long have you been here?" David asked Jake tentatively. Jake didn't answer, merely glaring at him as he went on digging. Billy was perched on a rock nearby, his rifle pointed at the two boys, and he was smiling at David in a way that made his skin crawl.

Seeing nothing else to do, David plunged his shovel into the earth, heaving out a clump of dead grass and soil before throwing it over his shoulder into the small pile that would grow rabidly as the boys dug through the morning. The sun beat down on the back of his neck, but as it wasn't quite spring yet, David also felt a chill in the air. David was no stranger to manual labor, but with his leg shackled and a gun pointed at his back, this was a far cry from any Sparrow Scout activity he'd ever done.

You'd think a couple of 11-year old boys would be able to finish digging a hole by noon, by seeing as neither of them had any breakfast, and David's head was still throbbing from Bill hitting him, coupled with the fact that his partner was skin-and-bone and looked ready to collapse at any moment, and the two of them were exhausted before they'd even dug two feet. David leaned against his shovel, trying to catch his breath, when he was startled by a sudden crack!

"C'mon boys, we don't have no time for you to be nappin'! Back to work!" Shouted Billy, having fired his gun into the air to scare David awake. David's heart hammered against his ribs as he resumed digging a more feverish pace.

Bill didn't come back out until noon... and when he did, he wasn't happy.

The hole they'd dug was barely five feet deep, and there was stalled after David's shovel came in contact with a large rock that were attempting to haul out.

"Is this the best you boys can do?" Bill scoffed. " I got other work that need doin', and you two are slackin' off!"

"We're digging as fast we can," Jake snapped. "But we can't get this flippin' rock out."

Bill glared at him, and ordered both boys out of the hole. Bill climbed down and dug out the rock himself with his bare hands, hoisting it up and out over the edge.

"There," said Bill. "No more excuses; get back to diggin'."

David and Jake did as they were told, and an hour later they'd managed to more or less finish digging the grave. It didn't look quite big enough to fit a casket... but it was just big enough for the two of them if Bill decided they weren't worth his trouble.

Unfortunately, Bill had no intention of letting them off that easy.

"I guess it's just like my papa always said," he remarked. "If you want something done right, do it yourself."

"Billy-Boy, you go inside, and get yourself some lunch," he told his son. "You two, with me; I'll give you the lay of the land."

David and Jake were left alone with Bill for the rest of the day as he showed them how to tend to his crops. Plowing the field, pulling up weeds, watering the crop, and checking for insects and other pests. Despite the urgency of these chores, Bill didn't seem to mind fooling around at the boy's expense; he sprayed Jake with a garden hose and "accidentally" dropped a hoe on David's foot, then barked at them for "horsing around".

But the worst part by far came as David was plowing the field. As he drug the hoe through the dirt, David noticed a faint clicking sound at the edge of his hearing. He looked around for the source, and saw Bill sitting on a log nearby, pointing a revolver at him. Every few seconds, he would spin the cylinder, pull back the hammer, and pull the trigger, only for it to come up empty.

"That flippin' maniac's playing Russian roulette with us!" David whispered to himself in a panic.

"Calm down," said Jake, who'd overheard him. "It's not loaded. It never is-"

That statement was cut off by a sharp BANG! as the gun went off, the bullet striking the ground just inches from David's feet, making him jump.

"Hah! How do you like that... I missed," Bill laughed, fishing around in his pocket for another cartridge.

"Okay, so it's usually not loaded," Jake said, correcting himself.

"Oh, cruddlesticks..." David exclaimed, grasping the handle of the farming implement in a white-knuckled grip as he felt a panic attack coming on. " I-I don't know how much more of this I can take..."

"Just keep working," Jake urged. "He missed that shot on purpose; he's just trying to scare us."

"I can't do this," David said, his voice cracking. "I can't do this, I can't... I-I wanna go home."

His partner looked on him with pity. David was frozen to the spot, shaking violently, his chest heaving as sweat poured down his face. He looked to be on the verge of tears. David struggled with anxiety, courtesy of his many phobias at the best of times... but this. This was far worse than his fear of heights, worse than rats, worse than even trolls. Being miles away from home, chained at the ankle, forced to work under the hot sun with a lunatic taking shots at his feet for his own sick amusement. That David hadn't fainted from the stress was a remarkable feat for him.

"There's no easy way to get home," Jake told him. "Just focus on staying alive for now. The best way to do that is to work, and do whatever the old man says. He won't keep you around if he thinks you're no good to him."

"That's very comforting," David replied sarcastically. "How long have you been here?"

"Almost seven months," said Jake. The two boys kept their voices low, talking as they worked as to not rouse Bill's ire. "I'm Jacob, by the way; Bill and Junior are the only ones who call me 'Jake'."

"David," he replied. "How'd you get here?"

"I was out camping with my mum and dad," Jacob told him. "Long story short, I wandered off, got lost, and stumbled across this town. I went to the sheriff and asked if I could use the phone... he introduced me to Bill, and told me that he would take care of me until he could get a hold of my folks."

"And he never did?" David inquired.

"No," Jacob affirmed. "You heard what Billy said... I found out later that the sheriff sold me to Bill for a hundred pounds."

"What!?" David exclaimed.

"Yup," said Jacob. "That's what Bill does. Find little kids lost in the woods to use as labor, and he pays the sheriff to keep quiet about it. Never uses girls or grown-ups; he needs people who can work for him, people he can easily control."

"But what about the rest of the town?" David asked. "Why don't they do anything?"

"Because they don't care," Jacob told him. "That's the long and short of it. What are some strange kids to them? They'd never let Bill touch their children of course, but you and me? We're nobody to them. Same for all the others."

"Others?"

"As you've probably gathered, you and I aren't the first indentured servants Bill's procured," Jacob went on to explain. "I know there were at least four more before me; I've seen there names carved on the wall of the barn."

"The last kid that was here, his name was Louis," Jacob continued. "A bit younger than me, maybe 9 or 10 years old... he looked even worse than I do now, when I first came here."

"What happened to him?" David asked.

"Bill happened," Jacob answered. "That kid, he'd been here for as long as I have. After I got here, Bill started treating him worse and worse. Started feeding him less, too. Then, one day... he started beating him really bad, with that belt of his. Suffice it to say, he didn't get back up."

"He killed him!?" David whispered in shock.

"That he did," Jacob replied solemnly. "Then he made me bury him, over there by the tool shed. He had me to work the land; I was still fit and healthy back then. But that kid, he was on his way out, and Bill knew it... and of course he couldn't just let him go. So he just beat the stuffing out of him until there was no stuffing left."

David was dumbstruck. Though it was abundantly clear from the start that Bill Abbot was anything but what you'd call a "nice man", hearing that he'd beaten a 9-year old boy to death and forced his other captive to bury him... and it sounded like he'd kidnapped, enslaved, and murdered three others before that. David wasn't naïve; he knew there were some very bad people out in the world, but hearing about that sort of thing on television was nothing like coming face-to-face with evil incarnate.

Worse still were the implications of Jacob's story. Bill Abbot had killed the boy before him when he became too weak to work anymore. Jacob wasn't exactly the picture of health. Now David understood why Jacob wasn't so eager to be friends at first; David was his replacement.

"I'm next, you realize that?" Jacob stated matter-of-factly, affirming David's preconceptions. "He'll take out his frustrations on me just like he did Louis, and he'll have you bury me over there. Right next to him."

"No..." said David. "No; the two of us, we could work together, we could escape-"

"How?" Jacob asked. "If you have any ideas, by all means, let's hear them."

But David didn't have any ideas, not just then. He jumped as another gunshot went off, this time hitting farther away. David decided to take Jacob's advice and keep his mind on his work for now.

At the end of the day, David and Jacob were taken back to the barn and chained to the walls just as before. Bill left his son to guard them for but a moment before returning with their supper; a slice of bread and a piece of cheese for each of them plus a canteen full of water.

"C'mon," Bill said, beckoning his son. "Let's get some shut eye."

"What about them?" Billy asked. "You're just gonna leave them unguarded?"

"They ain't goin' nowhere," Bill said confidently. "If either of them could get out of those chains, they'd have done it already."

David lie down on his bed after his pitiful supper, hoping to at least get some sleep after a long days work. Every part of his body ached, his neck was sunburned, and his clothes were filthy. Bill didn't allow them to wash up, and the only times they were allowed to go to the bathroom were during the day.

Today had easily been the worst day of his life, and from Jacob told him, it was only going to get worse the longer he stayed here. David wasn't sure how much longer he could survive this... they needed to escape as quickly as possible, but how?

David sat up and reached for the chain that secured him to the wall. There was a keyhole on the shackle secured to his ankle. David could see no easy way to remove it.

"So... got any ideas for an escape plan?" Jacob asked with a hint of sarcasm.

"If we could somehow pick the locks on these shackles..." David thought aloud. He looked at the door, which was padlocked shut from the outside, but the hinges were rusted and in danger of falling off.

"That door wouldn't be hard to pry open..."

"And then what?" Jacob asked. "We can't just make a run for it. The villagers are in cahoots with Bill and his family; they'll try and stop us."

"The armory," David said. "If we can pick the locks on these shackles, we can break into the armory as well. We'll take their guns, try to slip out as quietly as we can, and if anyone tries to stop us..."

"Just the two of us against the couple hundred people in the village?" Jacob summarized. "Are you mad!?"

"Do you have a better idea?"

"No..."

"Then we've at least got to try it," David asserted. "All I need is a bobby pin, or something to get these shackles off."

"In that case, you might find one in this mess," Jacob suggested, gesturing at the ruined furniture strewn about the barn.

"Maybe," said David, hopping off his bed and pulling open a random drawer. "It might take a while, though."

"No rush," said Jacob. "I mean, it's only my neck on the line if you take too long."

It won't come to that, David thought as Jacob went to sleep. Combing over the dilapidated furniture in search of something he could use, David silently made a promise to himself; Bill could bully him, strike him, and force him to work in his yard, but he could never force David to bury a friend.

Just as well that Hilda and Frida aren't here, he thought. He prayed that they didn't stumble across this wretched town. He hoped that they went home to get help. Jacob said four other boys were imprisoned here before them, and Safety Patrol had to catch on to that. It had to give them an idea of where to search.

David just hoped he could hold out until then... if they didn't find a way to escape on their own first.

Achievement Unlocked (50G) - One Down

-Buried a member of the Abbot family.

Achievement Unlocked (50G) - Last Man Standing

-Made a new friend.