A/N: Okay guys, i've made a few decisions for the remainder of the story and i'm going to warn you now that it's going to take a darker turn. I won't explicitly detail anything graphic but graphic scenes will be implied. There will be a warning at the beginning of every chapter if there are hints of graphic scenes, so any of my readers uncomfortable with said topics won't be subjected to reading them. Thank you guys for your continued support :)

Beth POV

One day.

Beth had one day left at the abandoned hospital until she was traded to the Bandits.

No one was around to answer her questions, of course. She hadn't seen any of the other 'patients' that were kept locked up in their rooms, and the police officers and the ones who ran the tests on her barely spoke a word to her.

She was scared. Who were the Bandits? And what were they going to do with her? She wanted Daryl to resuce her. She needed him to come in and save the day again, just like he had when the prison fell and the two made their escape together.

But he wasn't coming.

The crazy people kept running tests on Beth during the last day. Of course they didn't want to give up their 'test bunny' - as they were so fond of calling her - without getting as much as they could from her. She still didn't understand the tests; she saw no actual point in them. The only thing she could think of is that they were trying to come up with a cure.

"Light's out, Beth," said the police officer with a menacing tone in her voice. "You've got a long day ahead of you tomorrow."

She was roughly shaken awake in the morning. A pair of clothes was tossed at her and whoever had come in quickly shut the door. "Five minutes," they told her. She realized it was the male officer who she'd seen arguing with the female, who she learned was named Dawn.

She realized the pair of clothes she'd been given were the ones she'd been wearing on the night she'd been taken. A pair of faded blue jeans, and the yellow shirt she'd taken from the golf course with Daryl.

Would he ever find her? Hell, she didn't even know where she was. She'd barely been able to look outside since she'd been taken. She just prayed he wouldn't be too late. A sharp knock on the door told her that the five minutes were up. It was time to leave.

If Beth was scared before, she was terrified now.

Three men came to 'trade' for her. They all fit the menacing, no-good stereotype her father had always warned her about back on the farm.

At one time, she would have categorized Daryl in with them, too. But through his gruff exterior, he opened up. He made Beth feel safe, and protected. He made her feel brave. Once you wore down the tough outer shell, Daryl was truly a great person. Unfortunately, Beth didn't get the impression these men - if you could call them that - would have the same soft spot inside.

The trade only took a minute. The men roughly took her and shoved her into a car, where she was blindfolded. They drove around for a few minutes - mostly to disorient her, Beth guessed - before they stopped inside an old parking garage. They grabbed her arm as she got out of the car.

"You're now known as 89. Forget your old name, it doesn't matter now. You hear your number, you respond. Don't talk to anyone, don't do anything you're not told to. Got it?" Beth didn't dignify the thug with a response.

She kept from crying out as she was struck in the jaw. "I asked, do you got it?" the same thug demanded.

Rubbing her jaw, Beth nodded. "Good. Welcome to the hood, 89."