SLIPPERY SLOPE — PART 1 (Chapter 24)

Nick faded off into the never-never-land of unconsciousness, leaving Troy with an unspoken response, which was fuck that.

He'd been kidnapped twice in the last week. First Alicia, then him. Third time was the charm; only third time wasn't going to be happening again or anytime soon. Troy was determined about that.

He tipped his head back and rested it on the bedside table, half listening to what was potentially happening in the bathroom.

A breakdown or a simple wash up? Should he even care at this point?

He decided he'd done enough; they were going to have words at some point and the fact that Troy'd knocked her out in the diner was going to be a subject of heavy contention.

It could wait.

The bathroom was downright clean compared to most of the others they'd come across during their trek from state to state. Judging by the locked door they'd been met with on their arrival, Alicia assumed the motel had remained relatively untouched since the outbreak. Shame there wasn't any water, though.

She braced her hands on the counter in front of her, examining her reflection in the mirror. The bruises she'd obtained after the dam-collapse back in Mexico had only just healed, and already they'd been replaced with new ones, courtesy of Troy. She hated how easy it had been for him to knock her out, how willing he had been to do so because she'd questioned the ethics of what they were doing.

Despite her lingering grudge towards the youngest Otto, she had become complacent during their time together, had almost felt safe in his presence. Especially when Nick was here as well to act as the glue of the group. Alicia realized now she hadn't actually thought Troy would hurt her. Not unless she attacked him. She'd been wrong.

Didn't matter that she was elated they'd gotten Nick back, that wasn't the point. It was the reminder of what a volatile creature Troy truly was, and that she had been stupid to let her guard down.

She took some time to herself in the bathroom, combing the tangles from her hair with her fingers, trying to perk herself up so she would be able to handle the rest of the night terrified for her brother's wellbeing. Even if she had spent a lot of time taking care of Nick in the past, especially during his detox and withdrawal periods, and had seen a lot of terrifying symptoms and behaviors, she'd never been as scared for him as she was now. A small part of her even wished Mom was here because, despite all the flaws Alicia'd come to recognize in her, at least she always seemed to know what to do.

But they were alone. It was Troy, Nick, and her, and she didn't imagine that would change anytime soon. She'd have to make the best of it.

She opened the door and re-entered the motel room, glancing over at Nick on the bed. He was still out. She wasn't sure if that was good or not.

"He been stirring?" she asked in a low voice, retrieving her water bottle to have a sip as she settled on the foot of the bed.

Troy cracked open an eyelid, surprised that she was still talking to him at all now that the drama portion of their rescue mission was over and they were winding down.

"In and out. Has he always been this much of a martyr or does the history between the two of you leave him a lot to make up for? Was he that bad?"

She frowned at that, wondering if Nick had been muttering in his feverish sleep. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, he seems to have no value for his own life where yours is concerned. Or anyone else's. He wants me to make some bullshit promise about protecting your soul and making sure you don't lose any more of it than you already have. I'm just curious if that's because he is making up for his junkie mistakes."

She glanced at her brother, hating to see him looking so worn down and helpless. And still, her heart seemed to swell with unconditional love at the mere sight of him, so much so it hurt. Because it gave her all the more to lose.

"He doesn't owe me anything," she said after a brief stint of silence. "But he thinks he does. As for my soul, that's not for anyone to protect. Least of all you."

"Is that a hint of resentment in your tone, Lady Clark?"

Of course it was. Her forehead was probably still smarting, and Troy had gotten that poor man killed. But Nick wouldn't be here now, if he hadn't.

"You want to talk about it or just quietly go about the next week glaring at me?"

She had plenty of resentment but wasn't sure how to properly voice it without this turning into a screaming match. Well, it'd probably mostly be her screaming. Troy? She expected either mild irritation or perverse amusement.

She toyed with the label on her water bottle, considering his offer a moment.

"Just sayin' that expecting you to protect my soul, my innocence, whatever the hell else you want to call it, is unrealistic. Mostly because it would mean you choosing my emotional wellbeing over Nick's life, which would never, and should never, happen.

"It also implies I'm something fragile and vulnerable incapable of taking care of myself and making my own decisions, which frankly, I find insulting."

The 'would' of that sentence structure was a curious one. Did she want Troy to choose her over him? Was that part of their issue and whole Madison divider? Anyone with half a brain could see that the blonde brandished her favoritism like a golden placard. It was a sign of contention for her, a sign of contention for them and an interest for Troy. He knew Jake was always Jeremiah's favorite and that the two used to conspire and discuss behind Troy's back.

"I don't believe that's what he was implying at all, I think you're reading into it too much. Although, I am curious, had the roles been reversed and you were the one in insanity's hands, how'd you have liked to see it play out?"

"I don't know," she admitted. "I'd like to think I would have chosen to save a stranger's life over my own, but I can't be sure. It's impossible to be certain until you're actually faced with that decision."

Didn't mean she didn't regret what had happened to that young trucker. Didn't mean she couldn't already hear his pleading voice as a new addition to those in the cellar, the ones that haunted her at night when everything was quiet.

And she knew Nick would struggle with that, too. Especially knowing it had been done to save him. It wasn't his fault, though. The trucker's death, if that's what had happened to him, was on that crazy lady, Troy, and Alicia. Nick had no choice in the matter.

"Of course you'd have chosen to do that, Nick would, too. He said as much and it's why you were hesitating in there, right? Why you were going to set him free and inevitably have that crazy bitch kill Nick? She pushed us into a corner, Alicia, there wasn't a choice. She knew what she was doing but the truth of the matter is that, between Nick and a stranger, the stranger is always going to lose out and the same applies if you were in that position. There is no right or wrong decision anymore, no black and white, no good versus evil, everyone has the same goal in mind and just different ways of obtaining it. It's up to us whether or not we give up and whether we let the hard choices weigh us down. And that's all the two of you are going to do by holding onto your guilt and taking turns sacrificing yourself for each other. It happened with the pagans, it happened now."

Troy glanced down at his hands, unsure of where that lecture came out of what he hoped to gain from it. Perspective? A hope that she'd at least see some point in it and teach it to Nick?

She glanced over at him as he spoke. There was some truth to what he was saying. Despite her hesitation back at that diner, given the choice again, she might not have tried to go against their initial plan. Because having Nick back was everything that mattered. And it was easier to feel that way now she knew for certain he was alive and that in the woman's hands he might have suffered further.

But it did nothing to alleviate her guilt. Nothing. And she didn't think Troy was capable of understanding that.

"Have you ever felt guilt, Troy?" she asked, a smile without warmth tugging on her lips as she turned away from him again. "That gut-wrenching guilt that makes you feel like you're suffocating?"

She doubted it. He wouldn't think it was as simple as 'letting go' if he had.

Troy considered her rebuttal and gave a shrug. He just thought that maybe, with everything that had happened and would happen if they continued, she might have changed her mind and would have wanted to return to their mom's open arms. Near-death experiences did that to a person, especially people like them. They cared, they saw good in the crumbling world around them, and more importantly, they loved one another. Madison, too. A mystery to most but something Troy fully understood, he'd had the same kind of love/hate with his own father and sometimes his brother for years.

"The way I see it, there is no room for guilt. It's the difference between weakness and strength. We have to live with our choices, the things we can't stop or change and we have to do it in a way that keeps us going forward because if you let it, if you let the cancer that is blame seep in, it's going to cripple you like a lost limb. I've never experienced it but I've seen the damage it does, and neither of you can afford that, especially not him," Troy gestured to Nick.

"What you have, Troy," she began, intentionally speaking in a slow and calm voice to keep her mouth from running off in a tirade that would more than likely just end up confusing them both, "the ability to not care how your actions affect someone else, to not feel sympathy or empathy for the people around you…" She turned to look at him again, gesturing to Nick like he had done moments before, "We don't have that. We're not wired that way. Telling us to let go of our guilt is like telling Nick to just stop being an addict. It doesn't work like that. And it may be inconvenient to you and even to us at times, but that doesn't change anything."

"It should. You two can grip those precious ethics for the rest of your lives but it only exposes your weaknesses for all to see and is going to smother you into an early grave."

It had Jake, Nick had come close (again) and it was only a matter of time before Alicia's pretty face and body attracted unwanted attention again. That her burden to bear, how she dealt with it though was where it got complicated and messy. Nick, too. You'd think that they'd be hit with multiple reality checks and adapt but they seemed unrelenting. Troy could appreciate it in part because it was something he didn't have and had never possessed, and generally when push came to shove they did what they needed to, but what would happen when they reached a breaking point and couldn't be fixed again? Who was going to clean that up? Troy? He loathed the thought of that, the conflict and hatred that would be born from it, and momentarily thought of his mother.

"How's the head?" He looked back to Alicia.

Like Alicia expected; he didn't get it. Probably never would, and all efforts made towards getting him to understand were a waste of time.

And the ironic thing was, her guilty conscience was probably the only thing that had kept her from finding those scissors again and plunging them into his chest in the days following Nick's reveal. Because as much as she loathed what Troy had done, when she was able to think clearly she understood that taking his life would only make things worse. It would only add to the list of growing mistakes and sins she'd have to carry with her until the day she died.

"Fine," she responded to his question, though in truth her head throbbed and ached much like it had the day he'd fished her out of the river. She wasn't going to admit that, however.

'Liar', he thought no sooner the word fine left her lips. If she wanted to downplay it and go with that cool card who was he to stop her? No one. Just a dick.

She shifted on the bed to get closer to Nick, gently feeling his forehead with the palm of her hand. He was too warm. He hadn't been able to ingest much of the pain medication, and even if he had it would only ward off the pain for a while, not a fever or a possible infection.

She got up and moved to re-examine the goods Troy had brought, picking up the pill bottle of antibiotics to try and gauge the instructions on the label.

Troy watched her flutter around for a bit, and once again relaxed, letting his head fall back again to rest against the edge of the bedside table. He would kill for TV, an episode of some shit or even just a movie. Anything to kill the humdrum hours that were left for either talking, glaring or worrying about shit that they couldn't fix.

Maybe they should get back on the road?

He could drive – he'd slept… sort of.

"There any way you could spoon-feed that into his system?"

Alicia looked up from the bottle to acknowledge his question, twisting the cap off to take a look at the tablets inside. She shook her head a no.

"They're gel caps. The powder within shouldn't be ingested without the protective coating. His stomach acid will render it useless. Either that or the dosage may prove too much at once." Information she hadn't had a need for since her days back at the hospital and the question of crushing medications was a daily one. "It'll have to wait until he's able to swallow."

She threw a glance at her brother. She suspected that might be a while.

"Hmm," Troy murmured in acknowledgement. What else was there to say?

He doubted that was going to be happen. You could smack Nick with the good and he'd reject it, probably fight about how they should save it for the next time Alicia stubs a toe or twists an ankle.

He smiled to himself, folded his arms across his chest and his legs over each other and tried to drift off, to catch a couple more z's to kill time.

She put the antibiotics aside and took some of the bandages and the antiseptic ointment they'd brought back from the gas station, settling on the edge of the bed again to tend to Nick's wound more properly. She'd already cleaned it earlier using water, but didn't like leaving it exposed. And as long as he was unconscious she would be able to do what she needed without him experiencing too much pain.

She carefully spread the ointment onto the bandages before positioning it over the wound, a trick she had learned from Nick himself once upon a time and supposedly caused less pain, and fastened it with medical tape to seal it shut.

She'd check on it again come morning.

Troy seemed to be attempting another round of sleep, and she didn't mind the silence. At least not until that, too, became deafening and the voices begun to rise in the back of her mind.

She withdrew her crumpled pack of cigarettes and a lighter from her back pocket and silently headed outside, settling on the floor with her back against the wall just beside the door.

Troy got no more than twenty minutes of fragmented rest before the sound of footsteps and the door drew his attention.

He popped open an eye and squinted at the doorway, considering if he should go out there and join her and make sure that crazy lady didn't carry her away.

It was an easy enough thing to do.

Or maybe he should let her?

That only came to him fleetingly. He and Nick had it good when it was the two of them – less dissonance.

Troy suspected it wasn't going to be that easy.

He lifted his head off the side table, uncrossed his legs and pushed up off the floor, swiping his hands against his side to go in search of something to read.


It's dark in the diner kitchen. Nick can't see anything around him, but he feels the handcuff. It's cold against his skin. And heavy. He can feel his both wrists get cuffed.

"They're weak," the woman's voice says, startling him. He makes out her silhouette in the doorway. A bulky figure with a mane of dreadlocks. It's a figure of black, but he knows she's smiling. "You're making them weak. You make them weak. They will never be strong while they have you and you have them."

Nick wishes he could tell her she's wrong, but in the light of the latest events, he can't.

And then she's on him; so close her breath fans against his face.

"Weak," she hisses, her finger pressing into the wound, making him jerk and writhe.


Nick came to with his side burning and stinging as if her touch lingered. He groaned, trying to get through the haze before she did something else, before she said something else. But then the darkness around him didn't want to dissipate. It was hot and dark, and then reality was slipping away again.


Alicia put a cigarette to her lips and lit up, taking a deep drag. She'd never been much of a smoker, and still wasn't. Not really. She didn't like the taste, nor the smell. But it took the edge off, for just a few moments.

It was quiet. Couldn't even hear the sound of the insects and animals that usually came out at night. That was disconcerting. But at least there were no sounds of the dead, either. And that was something.

She stayed until she'd smoked down to the filter, then stubbed out the cigarette and flicked it at the nearest abandoned car. She didn't get up, though. Not yet. Troy would tell her if Nick woke, and until then she wasn't sure how much more she could do to help her brother.

It felt all too familiar to those nights spent by his side to make sure he wouldn't choke on his own vomit. Only this was worse. She'd been angry at him back then, at least in part. And that anger had fueled her, kept her going. She wasn't angry now. Just scared.


Troy was in the middle of ripping the motel room apart and flicking through a sticky paged Bible he'd found stuffed beneath the dresser when Nick's moaning caught him.

He looked over, saw the anguish on Nick's face, and how within seconds it went back to relaxation as once again unconsciousness consumed him, and flinched.

Troy wished there was more they could do for him.

Even though he no longer believed that there was such a thing as good and evil in a biblical sense, Troy set the Bible down beside Nick, sliding his limp hand over it as if whatever energy still lingered might transfer.

Every little bit helped, right?

He walked over to the open door and perched against the doorway to look down at Alicia who was sitting against the outside of the motel with a faraway look in her eyes.

"I think I'm going to go back to hospital, see if I can find an IV drip and the fixings."

Alicia looked up as Troy emerged, surprised. If there were IVs and more meds that could help Nick, why hadn't he brought them back with him last time? Had he run into trouble and been forced to leave early?

"Okay," she said, getting to her feet, brushing dust and gravel from her jeans. "You sure you don't want to wait until morning?"

They both knew what he was about to do was doubly risky in the dark. But Alicia also knew if anyone could pull this off, it'd be Troy. She envied him a brief moment, being able to go out with a clear goal in mind and actually see it through. To get a reprieve from watching Nick suffer.

But she couldn't go in his stead. Not now. She'd never leave her brother in his current state.

Troy could wait till morning and then go but considering all that Nick appeared to be dealing with as of right now and the way he kept going in and out of consciousness and the fact that they hadn't managed to get anything into him that would help him – it was best. It wasn't impossible. Not with Nick's bloody trick. Troy had achieved it during his first visit, only he'd been paranoid and one track minded without knowing what they really needed. He'd slipped. He should have known better and in future he would. He'd have to make sure they had medications for both occasions.

"Are you going to be okay here with him alone? I know you're capable," Troy said to smooth over the fact that Alicia viewed his caution as an offense before. "I just mean that you haven't slept since the night before last."

Alicia nodded. "I'll be fine."

Because she had to be. And she had great practice in that. Though if Nick started to get worse, she wouldn't know what to do. Despite her general medical training she was far from a doctor. But she doubted Troy would fare much better in her stead. Without fluids and more meds, there wasn't anything they really could do.

"Try to find 9% Normal Saline solution for the IV drip," she said, just in case he didn't already know. "It's more gentle on the liver than the others."

And considering Nick's previous drug abuse Alicia wasn't entirely certain how his liver was coping. She'd rather not take any risks.

"If you can find Paracetamol that'd be great too. Even better in fluid form. It'll help bring down his fever."

"Alright," Troy retorted, appreciative of the heads up on what to get since he'd intended on grabbing everything he could get his hands on.

"If anything happens while I'm away and you feel like the odds are against you, get him out and don't hesitate to head east. I'll find you."

Not that he was hoping that would be a necessary manhunt but considering how rapidly shit had a tendency of descending, Troy didn't want to leave anything to chance without a plan. A minor one at that as their radios were dead and he no longer trusted them.

He felt around for the keys and moseyed toward the car, slipping it into the ignition through the open window once he found them in his jacket pocket. Despite the dark he checked the other vehicles that had been abandoned and found only one of them had enough fuel and battery power to get them going. It wouldn't get them far but it would get them away. A pickup truck with two lumps resting on the flatbed and what he assumed were either broken or discarded spare wheels. Could be anything really but it didn't appear to be moving and therefore didn't alarm him.

He tossed the keys he'd found in the visor toward where Alicia still sat outside the Motel and heard it hit the ground in front of her somewhere.

"Just in case," he supplied, returning to the car they'd been using, flashing her a smile as he got in, turning on the lights so that she could find where the keys were and then slowly reversed from the lot.

As Troy drove away, Alicia headed back inside and locked the door behind her, pushing the lone chair back into place beneath the doorknob to at least temporarily stall any attempts at potential break ins.

Nick was still out of it, so she lay down beside him on the edge of the bed, watching his chest rise and fall with every breath he took.

Troy returned to the motel after three hours of scavenging the hospital from head to toe, the gore he'd caked onto himself as a disguise thick and tangible. Even the inside of the jeep smelt like death.

He parked in front of the motel, observing that everything looked as he'd left it and that was nothing was out of the order aside from the fact that Alicia was no longer outside having a smoke. He turned off the ignition, got out and removed the knife he'd been using all night, pressing an ear to the motel room door to listen to what was going on inside. He didn't hear voices, he didn't hear any noise period and for a time he wondered if maybe they were gone. He held the knife against the wood panel, testing the handle, wondering if maybe Alicia had put something behind it to barricade the shoddy lock and then shoved at it slowly to open it and peer inside.

Time moved so fucking slow Alicia wondered if the world itself had stopped. Everything was painfully silent. Nick hardly stirred and definitely didn't wake, and Troy took forever to return. Not that she could blame him for that, considering the conditions out there, but she found herself eager for him to return, hopefully with arms laden with medical equipment.

When the door handle finally jiggled, she got to her feet, cautiously drawing her gun.

"Troy?"

"Yeah," he supplied, finding the room to be even darker than it was outside and unable to adjust. Alicia hadn't said his name in a panicked way and he hadn't received a bullet to the chest or something else equally traumatizing so he presumed they were fine. They seriously needed to get new batteries for the flashlight and radios. This guesswork was downright pathetic.

He pushed open the door the rest of the way, hopeful that some of the moonlight would sink in and expose a bit of the room and then slowly headed back to the jeep. He twisted the key and reached up into the middle to turn on the inside light where Alicia could have a good look at the stuff he'd got and see if any of it was what she needed. There were a bunch of those IV bags, he'd also taken some blood in case Nick needed a transfusion and one of them were his type and a couple dozen bandage kits and pills. Probably too much. Troy barely knew if most of it was any good for the day to day shit but there was some paracetamol. Two in liquid form and a lot of the generic over the counter bullshit they sold. He'd even gone so far as to grab one of those infusion stands. That had been a bitch to get out and was covered in blood as well after the spokes had been used like a battering ram to crush a straggler's skull. He went to the back of the jeep and pulled it out with some difficulty, stripping off his bloodied shirt which he now considered a no good rag to scrub it down slightly.

Alicia put her gun away and followed him back to the jeep.

Her eyes widened at the massive amounts of stuff he'd managed to find, that horrible dread clenching her heart easing just slightly. With the saline solution and the paracetamol, Nick's chances of recovery had just drastically increased.

"This is amazing," she muttered, still in awe, barely able to tear her gaze off the loot long enough to step out of the way of the bloodied infusion stand. Troy was covered in blood as well, from head to toe. Literally. It looked like he'd made use of Nick's 'walking with the dead' technique.

"Any of that blood yours?" she asked, pulling the case of IV equipment off the flatbed and into her arms.

Troy gave a shake of his head and looked down at his chest to make sure the stab wound from the pagan's hadn't torn open. He'd barely even thought about it until now. He swiped around the spot, unsuccessfully trying to clear it of the blood that had seeped through the shirt and decided it needed a do over. They had the supplies for it. He tossed the shirt aside and picked up the infusion stand, carrying it inside so that Alicia could set things up for herself and for Nick as needed and then returned to the car to strip off the rest of his blood stained clothes and find something new to wear. As useful as the disguise was, now that the threat had passed and Troy was free and clear – in part – he couldn't handle the smell and overall sticky discomfort anymore.

Alicia followed him back inside and immediately got to work, locating the IV start kit, extension tube, and the needle, bringing it all over to the nightstand next to Nick's bed. She set it all up the best she could, getting the stand, bag, and extension tube ready before she finally tied the tourniquet around Nick's arm, holding it to her, feeling his skin to find a vein. It proved too hard in the dark and she soon gave up, wandering back to the door to see if Troy was coming.

"Troy," she called softly so to not alert the attention of potential dead in the area. "You got a flashlight anywhere?"

"The only flashlight we have is the lantern we got back at Jake's place. The batteries are dead. Unless you happen to have more lying around somewhere?"

Troy knew they'd found some at the trailers, he remembered even using them during the week but he wasn't sure if it was everything. He stepped into a clean pair of jeans, doing up the button, finding it to be a size too big and in need of a belt. Did they even have one? He scratched around the back for a moment longer, seeking a belt and then decided to focus on the batteries. "We should invest in candles."

Alicia didn't have any batteries stashed away on her body, nor hidden away anywhere. The ones she'd found at the trailers she'd handed off to Troy, and assumed they were now empty.

She could see him moving in the dark but not what he was doing.

"It's too dark for me to place the needle," she said, remaining in the doorway. "If we can't find anything else, you'll have to hold my lighter for me, see if that'll be enough."

Troy searched around a little longer and then ambled toward the motel door to meet her, extending a hand in expectation of her lighter. "Let's try then. You might want to tie your hair up though so I don't accidentally set you on fire."

Alicia hesitated, considering that a moment before slipping him the lighter from her pocket. Back inside she brushed her hair away from her face and gathered it in a quick and simple braid. It wouldn't last long without a hair tie, but it'd do for the next few minutes. They moved to Nick's side and she made another attempt.

They had to try with the lighter from different angles and Alicia missed the vein twice. It was more difficult due to the old track marks on Nick's arm, but eventually she managed, sinking the needle in and fixing it in place.

Before long, the Saline solution was drip-drip-dripping, slowly making its way into Nick's system. She hoped it would be enough. At least enough to help him wake so she could spoon-feed him some of the Paracetamol mixture Troy had brought.

She sat on the edge of the bed again, stroked Nick's hair back from his forehead, and watched. Waiting.

Troy released the push tab on the lighter only after they were sure the needle was in correctly and he was convinced that was all she needed. He handed it back to her so that she had it, sucking at the tip of his thumb that had gotten caught in the crossfire and headed back outside to find a shirt and to put his shoes back on.

He returned a few minutes later, the jeep locked up again and the key safely tucked into his pocket.

"Mind if I borrow the lighter again?"

Alicia shifted on the bed, digging into her pocket for the lighter and throwing it to him. "As long as you don't set my hair on fire."

"Don't tempt me and I won't," Troy teased and flicked it on, going in search of the container she'd carried in and claimed one of the bandage packs for himself. He let the flame die but not before making sure his spot to the side of the bed was clear.

Alicia tried to make herself comfortable beside Nick again, taking up only a minimal amount of space, hands flat beneath her head. She could feel how tired she was now. Her eyelids were becoming heavy. And she fought the pull of sleep stubbornly. She could rest when Nick felt better.

"You should sleep," Troy stated, navigating around the front of it, moving to sit against the bedside table again, fingers toying with the buttons on his shirt so that he could deal with the light and his side. "How's the hand by the way? The stitches? Is it healing as it should?"

Alicia knew she should sleep. But she wouldn't. Because if Nick were to die while she was sleeping, if he'd die while she did nothing, she'd never forgive herself.

She glanced over at Troy upon noticing he'd brought bandages for himself. Had he been lying when he said he'd not been hurt? But the longer she watched the more she understood – he still carried injuries from their run-in with the crazy cult. They all did. She'd just forgotten about it.

"Yeah," she said, lifting her bandaged hand for inspection. She hadn't even checked it since before Nick got taken and didn't rightly know how it looked under there. But the pain was mild, so she assumed it was fine.

The bandages were bloody, but it wasn't her blood. She unwrapped them carefully and threw them aside, gently trailing the tip of her finger down the line of sutures. From what she could see in the dark, it looked alright. The stitches could probably come out.

Beneath the layers of blood Troy's stitches also seemed to be doing well. He hadn't covered them like he'd done Alicia's and he'd been clear of aggravating them since this whole crazy lady drama went down but now they seemed to be taking strain. He couldn't see clearly but thought that maybe he'd ripped one or two. The worst case scenario was that it was infected. He'd double check it in the morning, for now, he'd opened up the package, cleaned as much as he could with his spit and flattened it over the wound to spare it anymore dirt. He raised a hand and dropped the lighter on top of Nick where she could get it again.

He buttoned up his shirt and slid down along the floor, eyes closing so that he could attempt sleep.

Alicia took the lighter back and stuffed it down her pocket, turning to lie on her back a while, staring up at the ceiling. Time moved slowly again but it was more manageable this time; the more time passed, the more of the saline would work its way into Nick's system, helping cure his dehydration.

It looked and sounded like Troy managed to doze off after a while, and that was good too. There should be at least one of them greeting the morning with renewed vigor and strength.

Alicia got out of bed eventually to make sure the drip was still doing its thing, and unplugged the extension tube from the needle once the bag was empty. The needle he left in, closing the vent and taping it down to keep it out of the way if – when – Nick started to move more.

When the first rays of sunlight penetrated the windows, she used the scissors from the med kit to cut away her stitches, sitting cross-legged with her back against the door.


It didn't get immediately clear where Nick was or what was going on. Confused and disoriented, he felt some weird weariness soak his bones the more light seeped through his closed eyelids. His side was throbbing with nauseating pain. A shiver ran through him; a ragged exhale escaped. He was thirsty. He was exhausted. And sick. His head was heavy and aching.

When Troy woke, it was to the sound of a ragged wheeze from beside him and the room cast in a soft glow. It was morning already? How much sleep had he managed? How much time had passed? He pushed himself up onto his elbows, brushing a hand over the top of his head still coated with splashes of blood and dirt and grimaced. He missed the ability to shower. He scrubbed his eyes with the back of his hand and sat up, pushing up off the floor, feeling the aches of sleeping on something other than a mattress settle in and seize his muscles. Last night had been a mad run. All of yesterday had been. He glanced at Nick, watching him shiver as the room lightened a bit more and focused on giving him the onceover. "How you feeling, Nick?"

Halfway through Alicia's stitches, Troy's voice cut through the silence and her attention immediately landed on Nick. He was stirring, but she wasn't sure he was truly awake. She put the scissors down and moved to her brother's side, peering down at him, hoping he would answer Troy's question.

It took a lot of effort for Nick to pry his eyes open, squinting against the light. It seemed like early morning, but it was too bright. His eyes were full of sand, as much as his body was filled with fatigue that felt like his bones were made of it. And it all ached.

The voice came through some kind of a veil. It didn't immediately become clear, but after a few seconds, Nick realized what it meant. Troy's voice. The recollection came sluggishly, when he glimpsed the room.

The motel. They'd brought him here, Troy and Alicia.

"Like… after a stampede… of elephants," he uttered.

That was something. Troy was just glad Nick was awake and talking because part of him feared that it might not happen. He'd seen people slip away so easily with the smallest of injuries in this new world and considering everything he'd endured, Troy'd started to worry that maybe that could happen to Nick, that he'd reach a point and they'd be able to do nothing. Then what?

"You thirsty?" he asked, assuming that Nick might be and reached for the bottle of water they'd spiked for him the night before. The can of beans Troy found with one look had been overtaken by ants.

Hearing Nick speak was a wonderful relief, but Alicia wasn't under the illusion he was out of the woods just yet. While Troy offered him some water, she headed back for the table to rummage through the medical items, finding the bottle of liquid Paracetamol and pouring some into the cap. She brought it back over to the bed, placing the tiny cup on the nightstand for later, needing to see if he'd be able to swallow some water first.

Nick didn't have to squeeze out more words, to his slight relief. Troy helped him with a water bottle, and he felt like his throat had forgotten how to function. He managed a few sips mixed with coughing fits before Troy let him be. His heart was thrashing in his temples and he found it hard to tone his breathing rate down. Feeling both nauseous and woozy, he closed his eyes, hoping he wouldn't pass out or throw up the water. All the coughing strain set Nick's wounded side on the edge, fueling the nausea.

Troy set the water bottle aside, swiped the ants off the counter and removed the can of beans, walking it over to a bin in the corner of the room while Nick coughed. He didn't sound any better but at least he was awake.

Troy watched quietly for a time as Alicia helped herself to some more medication and set it down beside Nick.

"Is there anything you need, Nick? How's the pain?"

"Pretty bad," Nick said honestly. "And it's gonna get worse."

He winced and looked down at his arm, surprised to find a needle plastered to it.

"What is that? You robbed a hospital?"

"Yep," Alicia responded, a small smile playing on her lips. "It's just saline. You're dehydrated. This will help."

She moved off the bed to draw the curtains closed over the nearest window, having noticed how Nick winced in the light.

"Think you'll be able to swallow this?" She held up the tiny cup of medicine, showing him as she sat back down, gently squeezing his hand with hers. "It'll help bring your fever down."

"Don't give him an option to say no, Alicia. I'll hold his jaw and we can pour it in," Troy was smiling when he said it, teasing quite clearly while feeling that he was willing to do it if Nick kicked up a fuss or tried to downplay his injuries and their symptoms.

Nick shook his head and started to get up, gnashing his teeth.

"Not yet."

He felt tired as all hell, but managed to hoist himself off the bed. Thankfully, the bathroom door was two steps away.

"Just give me a second here," he told Alicia and closed the door.

There was a party of pain in Nick's side, and as soon as he saw the toilet, he could no longer keep the nausea back.

It made him feel like he was puking his guts out. There was a little blood in the bile mixed with water that came out, or he just thought so. He couldn't be sure of anything; his head was swimming. Barely keeping himself upright, he urinated, then flushed with the little water that was still in the bowl.

He opened the door, stepped toward the bed, and then the room darkened around him, leaving a narrow tunnel of light that was shrinking.

Alicia had winced as Nick got out of bed and fought her instinct to follow him across the floor to make sure he got to his destination safely. The sounds of him throwing up soon reached them through the closed door, and that worried her. Why wasn't he able to keep anything down? Was it the pain that overwhelmed him, making his whole body rebel? Or was it something else?

She rushed towards him when Nick emerged from the bathroom and his eyes rolled into the back of his head, quickly losing his balance, and from the looks of it, his consciousness. She caught his arm, trying to support his weight but found herself losing the battle as he swayed towards her, threatening to bring them both down in an awkward heap on the floor.

Troy rushed up behind Alicia to prevent her from falling, freeing Nick up from her arms as best he could and letting her support one side once he was sure they weren't going to end up in a heap and helped him back over to the mattress to lie him down.

"What is this?" Troy asked as they laid Nick out, trying to work through it, noting that his brow was scattered with sweat and that he looked pale, really, really pale. "Is it infection?"

"I don't know," Alicia admitted, unable to keep her concern from showing, immediately checking on the needle in Nick's arm to make sure the flesh around it hadn't swelled. So far, it looked fine, felt fine.

She gently undid the bandages at his side as well, checking the ugly wound there.

"It doesn't look infected, but… he's definitely got a fever."

She put the bandages back in place and got to her feet, hands on her hips as she assessed her brother.

"Infection won't usually make you throw up. But that could be from the water he just had. His body may need some more time to adjust."

She was speaking to herself more than Troy now, going over the various possibilities.

"He's gonna need some fluids again. I'll set up a new bag."

She headed for the medical equipment, muttering under her breath to make the calculations, trying to remember everything she'd learned back at the hospital.

"70ml per kg body weight within the next two and a half hours… approximately 145lbs, which makes 70… 73kg."

She'd figured that out while setting up his last bag, only the dosage needed was different now. She remembered that from the hospital too. Start with a small amount, increase over time. She closed her eyes, bracing her hands on the table in front of her, trying to see the numbers in her head. But they were all blurred, her exhaustion and lack of sleep sweeping them away. And the panic wasn't helping. She hadn't even started to calculate how many drops she could give him a minute. She'd managed the night before, but now…

Alicia pinched the bridge of her nose, opening her eyes again to look around the room, searching.

"I need a pen. I need a pen, Troy!"

Troy didn't like the consensus but he appreciated that she was knowledgeable and had a fair idea of what they were looking at – at least better than he did. He listened to her mumble to herself, unable to make out clearly what she was saying but picking up in part numbers. She was calculating something? He couldn't figure out what but had stood rooted to watch what she was doing, to take note and perhaps learn for in case something was to happen and he had to take over.

"I'll find one," he supplied, assuming that's what she was getting at although she hadn't directly asked him and instead stated it as fact. He strode away from Nick's side and scanned the bedroom, at least the spots he might have missed when he'd been looking for something to read the previous day and headed out, walking toward the reception area and where he suspected there would be pens. He hadn't checked it out before, not completely, but he assumed that if there was dead or living trapped inside they'd have come out by now.

He entered the building, surprised by the fact that it looked partially clean save for a lot of dust and that whomever had been managing the place had just up and walked out. He found pen tied to the counter beside a guest log, a list of names he fleetingly scanned out of interest as he ripped it from its holding. It wasn't a very popular place. He jogged back to the room, the pen and a piece of paper he'd ripped from the log book in hand. "You didn't exactly say what you needed it for but I assume it's to write something down?"

He tapped Alicia's shoulder and held out both to her, waiting patiently for her to take it.


Their voices were drifting in and out, as though someone was playing with the volume on a remote. Nick didn't get most of what they discussed, but he caught some words, and even those few took time to process. How long – he couldn't tell.

"It's… It's not an… infection," he muttered, shivering. "It's fever… from the cut… adding to wi— … withdrawals."

He swallowed with effort, trying to stay conscious, although he felt he wasn't going to hang on for much longer.

"Those people at the church… were junkies. One of them… had heroin on him. I took it… for when we run into another drug syndicate like back in Tijuana. She must've seen me then. She shot it all in me." Another shiver ran through Nick, exploding in his side, making it hard to concentrate. "She said… she had an eye… for junkies… the teacher she used to be. Said I had… to hit the… bottom… to get back up."

The room wobbled, making him sick again. He tried to still to wait it out, but the light was dimming rapidly around him, pulling him under once again.

Alicia stared at Nick, heart sinking the more he spoke, the more he revealed. And everything started to make sense again in the most horrible of ways.

Tears of anger and sorrow stung the back of her eyes, and when Nick seemed to drift off again, she lowered her head, squeezed her eyes shut, her hold on the pen so hard it threatened to snap under her grasp.

"Fuck!"

Troy had inched closer to the bed when Nick started muttering, straining to hear everything of what he was saying and picking up bits and pieces here and there.

So she drugged him in order to break him down? From an indifferent stand point that made sense, she'd have been able to control him better, but from a friend sense it infuriated him. What could she possibly achieve from breaking him like this? Troy couldn't see it. What was the message she was trying to send? That Nick needed to be broken or was there more to it? From the sounds of things, Nick already had those moments happen multiple times and this would just be another one – nothing special. And why, if it was so important, would she let him go?

This couldn't be happening. Not again. Alicia'd only just gotten her brother back – the real Nick. And now this bitch had taken him from her again.

Imagining how the next week would pan out was pure torture, bringing up every bad memory from Nick's addiction from her early teens up until the outbreak. It had always been scary, always been painful, but now... there was so much more to lose. So much more that could go wrong.

She allowed herself a minute to wallow in self-pity and fear before she opened her eyes, shook her head as if to clear her thoughts, and bent back over the paper again to finish her calculations. This didn't change the fact that Nick still needed more fluids, the first priority on the list, and one she could actually take care of.

Troy was feeling more paranoid than ever, as if it had only just occurred to him that the longer they stayed there the easier they made it for her to get to them again and that there was something big that they were missing.

"Maybe that's just what she wants you to believe. Is there a chance that it could be a slow-acting poison?"

He looked a lot like he did when he'd been poisoned with anthrax.

Troy's attempts to speak with either of them went unnoticed, Alicia's focus entirely elsewhere until she had what she needed. She moved to set up the bag on the stand and hooked it up to her brother's needle, adjusting the valve on the extension tube to allow the correct number of drops to fall per minute.

"Okay. New plan," she told Troy, wiping her hands across her face to try and stay awake. "The next few days are gonna be a pain, for all of us, but him especially."

She returned to the table, looking through the collection of pills Troy had brought back, stopping once she found a box labeled Subutex and opened it to peer inside.

"No more of the codeine. We'll use these instead. They will help with the pain and the withdrawals. There's not much left, so at some point we'll have to try and find more. Either that or methadone."

And she had no idea where they'd get something like that. It was a miracle Troy had managed to find this pack of Subutex in the first place.

"All this other stuff–" she gestured to the remaining painkillers and various other medications, "–we'll have to hide it, keep it out of his reach. Because when he gets strong enough, he's going to tear this room apart in search of his next fix. Especially if we can't get him more of the Subutex. So we need to keep it someplace safe." She was hoping Troy would help her with that. "Stay with him for a few minutes. I'll do a sweep of the other rooms, get us a few things we can use to help us make this a little easier on ourselves. He's going to be pretty sick for a while."

Nick was out of it again and Alicia offered up no response to Troy's suggestion, looking out of sorts as she relayed new information and orders. All things he would gladly do but first…

Troy crossed from the opposite side of the bed and deliberately grabbed a hold of her upper arm, preventing her from running away to find whatever source she needed to make things cozier. "Before we get too far into this new plan of yours, is it possible for us to move him, to drive for a while and perhaps find somewhere else we can hole up? We're too exposed here. This place is a public avenue, on a main road—or at least leading off it—and that crazy bitch is still out there. Why would she do any of this to him without giving herself a front row seat to the consequences? She clearly likes games, hell, she brought us all the way to Texas for this one. It has to be for a reason."

She instantly tugged her arm free of his grasp, assuming he was about to insist he go outside while she remained here, and had already decided to resent him for that until his words sunk in.

She paused, looking back at Nick, uncertain. "I don't know."

Troy let her pull herself free of his grip since his hold had been meant as nothing more than to keep her from running out the door before he could talk to her. He could see her confidence wavering, concern reflected on her face that was no longer guarded by her plan.

Was it that bad?

Driving wouldn't necessarily make his withdrawals worse, Alicia thought, but he was already very weak, and that wound of his wasn't getting much better. She took a deep breath, pressing the heels of her palms to her eyes as if the darkness and brief explosion of colors would offer up some new insight.

"I don't know," she repeated. "It might make him worse, it might not."

She looked up at him, her panic returning now constructive plan was no longer in play, silently pleading with him to help her make the decision, to not let all the burden fall on her if they chose wrong.

Troy looked back at Nick, considering. She'd stabbed him and he was barely recovering, going through withdrawals, weakening his system might only make it worse.

"You need to tell me if it's worth the risk, I can't decide that for him or for you."

In his heart it felt that it was, especially if it was to save themselves from another run in with that crazy hag. Troy might have taken the decision out of her hands if the ranch was still available and they had all the assets needed to keep Nick together, but that was no more than a fantastical dream now.

Troy was out of his league with this.

"Take a look around, see what you can find as you intended and think it over. I'll stay with him."

He moved back to give her space and toward the bed to hover beside Nick.

It felt like an impossible decision to make, but no one was going to do it for her. Alicia left the room after another moment's hesitation, closing the door behind her and inhaling deeply to calm herself before heading in the direction of the reception.

She emptied the wastebasket she found there and snatched all the room keys off the wall, letting them fall into the bucket before heading back out to visit the rooms one by one.

Only one of said rooms had any infected within. It was a lady in a wheelchair whose legs had been strapped down, and though she gurgled and snapped her teeth at Alicia as she searched the drawers and shelves, it wasn't much of a threat. Alicia still 'put her out of her misery' before continuing to the next room.

When she returned some twenty minutes later, she had towels and sheets, another pillow, a few bottles of water from the minibars and another packet of peanuts. She placed the bucket on the table and emptied it, splashed a tiny amount of water into it and handed it to Troy.

"For when the vomiting begins. Again."

Nick came awake slowly, shivering, combers of hot pain traveling through him. It was hard to keep his brain together when all thoughts scattered away like ants.

Instinctively, he tried to pull his arms to him, and something clung to his right. There was some noise, very far away. A confusing metal clattering. And the inside of his elbow was burning, spreading that liquid heat up his arm, into his shoulder, pouring it into his chest.

Groaning, he tried to scrape that stinging thing off.

Nick appeared to be on a biological setting with his sister because as soon as she walked back in the door, he began to stir and tried to dig the needle from his arm. Troy took the bucket from her, settling it on the nightstand within reach, already aware of what it was for since he'd heard him in the bathroom earlier.

"Dude," Troy began, reaching for his free hand to carefully remove it from the infusion tube he'd been trying to rip out of his arm, guiding it back down toward the mattress. "Don't do that."

Alicia reached for the packet of Subutex and headed for the bed, taking a seat on Nick's opposite side, trusting Troy to keep him from pulling the IV out.

"Nick? Can you hear me?" she asked, one gentle hand on his cheek to try and pull his focus onto her. "I've got Subutex."

He knew very well what that was, had asked for it several times during his previous withdrawal periods. She just wasn't sure if he was able to hear her, to process what she was saying.

Nick's teeth was clattering as if he were freezing, but he felt his skin was catching fire. Especially from her hands grabbing his wrists, touching him. His head hurt more just hearing her voice.

"Why don't you just let me go," he muttered through gritted teeth, barely making out her silhouette through the haze. "Just let me… go… Mom… don't…"

There was not enough air in the room, and he couldn't talk. She never listened, anyway.

Troy loosened his hold enough to let Nick feel as if he were free in response to his plea to Madison, but kept his own hand settled over his.

His eyes were open but he wasn't seeing her. It wasn't all that unusual considering his current state, but Alicia still desperately wished he'd come back to her. She didn't want to give him his medication until he was able to understand what was happening, until he was present enough to follow instruction.

"Mom's not here, Nick. It's just Alicia and Troy."

He let out a shaky exhale, feeling drained. He closed his eyes, wishing it would all just end.

"I told you not to bring her…" he whispered, drifting off. "I told you… not to… bring… her…"

Was he talking to me this time or was he still referring to Madison? Troy wondered. He raised his eyes to Alicia, assuming she understood what Nick was babbling about but waiting for her next instruction. If any.

ALicia couldn't tell whether he was talking to her or someone else entirely. It didn't really matter.

She scrubbed a hand over her face as he drifted off again, getting back on her feet. "I don't want to give him any meds until he's properly awake. We can try to move him, but not until he's had the last of this IV treatment. One hour, give or take." She glanced at the bag, seeing how much remained. "But we have to find him somewhere he can get proper rest. A bed. A mattress at the least."

"There has to be houses around here," Troy stated in answer to her statement, eyeing the bag himself to see how much time remained. The point was security. "He's out again, why don't you try and get an hour's rest before we move on from here? You've done all that you can do for now. I'll keep an eye on him and wake you if he does anything weird."

"A house would be good," she nodded, feeling a glimmer of hope for the first time today. And she recognized she could no longer fight the pull of sleep. She'd be no use to Nick if she didn't get some downtime to restart her brain.

She grabbed the extra pillow and settled down on a spot on the carpet that didn't look too dirty, trying to make herself comfortable.

"Wake me if he… as soon as… you know," she muttered, allowing her eyes to fall shut and slumber to wash over her.

"I said I would, Alicia," Troy retorted while she got relaxed on the floor, walking away from Nick's side to reclaim the bible he'd tossed aside earlier.

He perched against the dresser, gaze shifting between the two momentarily and flipped through the book. He hadn't read it in years and he had even less interest to do so now.


Alicia woke up sometime later with a start, sitting upright and darting a glance around the room before her erratic pulse finally began to settle. She'd been back in the cellar again. It was the same nightmare that continued to haunt her over and over, and one of the main reasons she'd been so reluctant to sleep this past week.

Troy was seated on the floor beside the bed, a Bible lying next to him.

"Didn't have you pegged for a religious man," she commented, slowly getting up to check on Nick's IV.

"What do you have me pegged for?" he countered with a touch of curiosity.

She opened her mouth to answer, thought better of it, and decided to discard his question completely. This was not the time to start a new argument. It would have to wait until they'd moved and gotten Nick to a safe place.

The IV bag was empty. She cleared all the equipment away and carefully extracted the needle from Nick's arm. If they were lucky he wouldn't need more treatments.

"We should get going."

Troy smiled at her lack of response to the question and pushed off the floor, dusting his hands against his thighs, satisfied with the thought of being out of this place.

"I'll clear out the backseat so we can slide him in."

He assumed she'd take care of the rest inside. He walked toward the door, stepped out into the day, unlocking the car, making quick work of rearranging everything to be accommodated on the flatbed. Thankfully they had a canopy so they didn't have to worry about losing anything of use, but it was messy as all hell.

He opened the opposite door, made sure he'd shifted everything and then headed back inside.

"We taking the stand?"

She gathered everything of value and placed it in the boxes Troy had carried inside the night before, medical equipment in one, food and other luxuries in the other. She paused a moment to consider her brother and how they could best take care of him on the road, deciding to use one of the sheets to keep him warm as his bloodstained shirt had long since been discarded of.

"We don't have to," she responded, handing Troy one of the ready-packed boxes. "If he needs more treatments we can improvise."

There wouldn't be space for him and the stand, besides, it wasn't a good idea to overload themselves too much and if they could make an alternate plan they should. Troy took the box, carrying it outside, sliding it into a space on top of the stuff in the flatbed. He repeated the process with the second and then returned a final time for Nick.

Once all the supplies had been taken care of and the only thing that remained was moving Nick, Alicia carefully pulled his blanket off, folding it and carrying it under her arm so Troy could carry him outside. She grabbed the pillows as well, hoping to make her brother as comfortable as possible, especially during the ride which she hoped would be smooth and free of potholes.

Troy carefully slid his arms beneath Nick's head and legs, being careful not to jolt him too much or further add to the aggravation of his wounds, and waited, letting Alicia run ahead to slip the pillow and other stuff she'd grabbed for him onto the backseat.

As soon as she'd spread them out and given Troy the signal, he gestured for as best he could for her to get in, to be prepared to pull him across the seat while he pushed.

It took some time and a lot of adjusting, but they eventually got Nick situated across the backseat of the jeep, a pillow beneath his head, and a blanket tucked over and around him to keep him warm.

Alicia would have liked to stay close to him to ensure he wouldn't fall off if Troy was to make a particularly sharp turn, but there was no room. She got in the front passenger seat and put her back to the door so she could at least keep an eye on Nick as they drove.

Troy climbed into the driver's seat and pulled out of the lot a minute later, feeling slightly better that they could finally move as he'd originally planned and that they were working on making it harder for that woman to come up on them again and to complete whatever aftershock she had planned.

A series of sharp throes pulled Nick back to reality. It exploded in his side and spilled through his torso in a wave of red-hot spikes and needles.

His head was throbbing sickeningly, and the bed beneath him shook, making the nausea impossible to control.

He groaned, instinctively turning to the side as his stomach contracted painfully, spilling bile mixed with blood.

Troy shot a concerned glance back. "Just hold on a little while longer, Nick."