Quick Note: Okay, this is a warning – this chapter is M. Nothing immensely graphic, but horrible and enough out of my usual style that I'm telling all the under-sixteens to close their eyes for a page or so.

Chapter Seven

Kate woke the next morning, and sighed regretfully. From here, diving into the water last night looked like a good option. She bit her lip, and noticed someone had already left a scanty breakfast. It made her uncomfortable, knowing that someone had been able to come in and then go out without her knowing it.

She was right back where she had been yesterday – except in the next cage along. She wondered idly what they'd do with her if she tried to break out again and broke a hole in all of the cells. They'll have more somewhere, she thought bitterly. Then she brightened – they had to have more cells. Where were they keeping Sawyer?

She refused to admit that he might be dead. He was too threaded into her life for her to lose him – if she did, she'd unravel. He was the only one who could accept her for who she was. She didn't feel safe unless he was there. It was corny, and she hated it, but she couldn't get rid of the twisted feeling in her gut that came every time she imagined Sawyer hurt or dead. Just another bad part of herself that she couldn't survive without.

The last time she'd seen him, he'd been unconscious. They had both thought they would be killed, and so had fought with incensed vigour – Kate had been most astonished when they hadn't been, and further confused. It scared her, too. Now, after being locked up for five days with no clue of why, she wasn't any calmer.

She was almost relieved when she heard the door open, and footsteps enter. A thickset man with a nasty look on his face came towards her. Behind him were three more, of similar build and composure. Despite herself, Kate stepped backwards. One of them smiled, and muttered something to the man next to him.

The lead man opened the door to her cell. The key was then securely replaced in his pocket, and Kate began to try and formulate a plan on getting it.

None of them moved. Kate didn't want to say anything, worried how shaky her voice would sound. Her mouth was dry, her tongue heavy, and her heart hammering faster every second. The leader of the group stepped forwards, and she bravely stood her ground. He took another step, and she flinched but didn't move.

Suddenly, he snaked a hand out and grasped her wrist. She bit her tongue to stop herself protesting, fully aware that they wouldn't hesitate to hurt her if she resisted. Her skin trembled, and she defiantly gazed into the eyes of the man holding her. To her consternation, he only smiled.

There was a sudden flurry of activity. The exact events escaped Kate's notice, but she was aware of the first hulk pushing her backwards, and of the others whispering to each other and moving forward. She might have yelled, because the man then used his other hand to cover her mouth, the smell making her gag. She couldn't move, and when she felt the cold steel wall behind her she was filled with a deep, innate dread. She struggled, but the one holding her back was assisted by bulk and he already had her incapacitated.

Her next move was to lift up one leg and knee him in the groin – but he had been expecting, almost waiting, for the move, and used his own leg to knock hers out of the way. Sawyer, she thought, almost praying. She tried to bite the hand over her mouth, but these men knew what they were doing – she couldn't move her lips. One hand was being held behind her with her own weight, and the other was still in a vice-like grip.

She stopped struggling for a moment, hoping to catch them unawares in a moment – but they were obviously well-aware of her intentions, because another of the group came up beside and grabbed her leg when she jerked it. She didn't know if it would be any use screaming, even if she could get the hand off her mouth – would anyone on this boat care?

A hand slipped up underneath her shirt. She twisted against her attackers, wondering how she could have been so stupid last night, to have come back so quietly! She should have jumped, she realised. Taken her chances in the cold, fathomless water. The hand stroked her side carefully, and goose-bumps jumped up all over her skin. NO! she screamed silently.

The hand was caressing her breasts, hidden underneath her bra. She could do absolutely nothing to stop it, even as the fingers moved in slow circles down towards the belt around her waist. Her mind was racing, but her body was stuck, and wouldn't respond.

Sawyer! Please, Sawyer, help... Anyone help...

"Get off her," came a voice. Kate couldn't see who it belonged to, but she could guess. The pressure on her mouth slackened, and she stopped struggling, pleading silently for salvation.

"Got a problem, Russ?" the man holding her asked.

"Yes, Daryl. I do. Get off her," Russell replied.

"I don't know that you've got the authority to be demanding that, Junior," Daryl retorted. He glanced back at Kate, and for a moment, held eye contact. She couldn't hide the fear, and when he saw how wide her eyes were, he chortled.

"There another reason you don't want me touching her?" he asked. "Because, you know cus', you can't go bossing me around just cause your daddy's got the biggest prick."

"I can boss you around due to the fact that I'm now Chief of On Land Navigation. I think that outranks you, Daryl," Russ replied smugly. Daryl's three friends whispered amongst themselves at the news. Daryl pushed himself away from Kate and took a step towards Russell.

"Since when?" he growled. Russ smiled.

"Since about three hours ago."

"Bullshit!"

"You can go check with the Captain if you like – I'm sure he'll appreciate your compliment, too, if you want me to repeat it?"

With Daryl no longer holding her still, Kate inched sideways so that she could see Russell more clearly. She noticed his eyes were boring into Daryl's hunched figure. The other three were fidgeting silently, hoping to get out without a tongue-lashing themselves. A minute passed, and no-one said anything. Suddenly Russ broke out of his reverie, and blinked a few times.

"Get out," he said angrily, jerking his head towards the door. Daryl did so, slowly and defiantly, his henchmen right on his heels. Russell didn't move, however, and his gaze turned to Kate.

"I'm sorry," he said. "They're not all like that."

"Oh good," Kate said, too fatigued to put in as much sarcasm as she'd like to.

"I probably can't stop them if they try again," he said apologetically. She felt something inside her protest, and did her best to hide the shudder that ran through her body.

"Maybe I'll have escaped before then," Kate said, not really joking. He gazed at her for a little while, appraising her to the extent that she was very uncomfortable.

"Maybe," was all he said, before locking the cage and walking out.

They did come back. The next day, they came, and even though Kate fought and tried to scream, she couldn't stop them. Daryl raped her, defiled her, and when she thought it was finally over, it was to see one of his friends come forward with an eager look in his eye no man could hide. There was only three of them in total today, but they attacked her with a vengeance – probably a penance for making them wait. She wanted to fight, to scream, to beg, to weep. And she couldn't.

It was over an hour later that they left, leaving her torn, bleeding, and broken.