Here's the promised chapter. Hope you like it. Grammatical errors (you'll know when) are completely intentional, used for the sake of building tension. Let me know what you think. :) Enjoy.

(Jemma)

He, their leader, drug me by my hair to where they were staying. It was a dorm at the local university, and they had it loaded to the gills with all kinds of stuff. Guns, food, batteries, you know, the kind of stuff you just don't see laying around anymore.

I was kicking and screaming, even though I knew it wasn't doing me any good. He had a death grip on me, and his little minions just laughed at me the whole way there. I was frustrated, embarrassed, I'm not even sure what. I was hoping, that at any minute, I'd wake up from the nightmare that was slowly becoming reality. He takes me to a room, where the windows are all boarded up, and it's lit by a solitary lamp. I noticed on my way in, that there are at least six different locks and bolts on the door, making me wonder if I've been the first one to stay here.

...

"Jemma, I didn't know," Ellie said. Jemma shows no emotion, and kept staring out the window.

"How could you have?" she asked, turning to face her sister. In the dim light, Jemma's face looked hardened and old. Was it just the recollection of the past, or were the years catching up to her, faster than she could have imagined?

There was a brief silence.

"You've got school, right?" Jemma asked, walking to the coat closet.

"Yeah, but it's not like I want to waste my fucking time there."

She handed Ellie her coat. "Just go, it'll all be over for you soon enough."

Ellie thought about it on her way there. Did Jemma mean the day would be over soon? Or did she intend to leave Jackson, with Ellie in tow? No, Jemma liked it in Jackson too much to leave. Besides, they both had some attachments. But, the more Ellie thought about it, the more she began to question herself and everything around her.

...

He tears off my clothes. My face is burning up. He looked at me like I was something to eat, not an actual person. Before he touched me, he did a once-over with his eyes, and in an instant, he's on top of me, all over me, his lips all over my face, his hands grabbing the folds of my skin, never mind my scars, his hunger drove him wild, like a vulture, swooping down on its prey, yes, that's me, I am the prey, I was already dead, I died the first time it happened, reliving it is just pure torture, tasting his tongue down my throat, trying not to gag at the taste of tuna and stale cigarettes, he keeps stroking my hair, like I'm a goddamn dog, I try to escape from the dorm, anywhere, ah- yes, I'm at the beach, the sun is warm and the water is cool on my legs along with the cool salty breeze and I can hear the gulls and I'm laying on a towel, reading a book about airplanes and forests, he pushes and shoves, airplanes and forests, his warm moist breath in my ear, fuselage, forest, he keeps whimpering and moaning, drag, coniferous, sweat pouring down his chest, I'm trying to think about the shells on the seashore, but my head keeps slamming into the wall, c'mon, I've got my sight on a swimmer, not too far from the shore, she's being dragged under a wave, she surfaces, she's pulled under, I can see her hand reach out to grab something that isn't there, she surfaces, she's pulled under, she surfaces, she's pulled under, she surfaces, gasps, swallows water, goes down again, doesn't anyone see, she's drowning, help her she's drowning, but I'm interrupted my the sound of his voice "oh, fuck" she's dead, I'm dead, I've drowned and nobody's here to save me, and everything comes back to the anticipated conclusion, he throws my clothes at me and leaves the room.

None of them came to see me as much as he did. He was rough, but it never lasted long. He never hit me, either, which I suppose I can thank him for. Like you can thank your goddamn rapist.

...

A couple of months later? How long had it been? I could never tell, no light shone through the window, ever. When they threw me some food, it was at random intervals in the day, and so I couldn't keep track that way. I had nothing but me and my own thoughts. I begged them for a book, so one of them gave me a Bible, as an apparent joke. I was damn grateful.

I was in the middle of the story of Abraham and Sarai. She is 175 years old, and somehow, miraculously, she conceives. Then it hits me. I'm pregnant. I was so upset, I was crying like crazy. I was pregnant by one of those assholes!

How could that happen?

...

Joel came home to find Jemma sitting in the living room, reading from a tattered copy of The Bible.

"You actually believe in all that hocus pocus?" He asked, fishing out an egg from the fridge.

"It's not voodoo," she said, and closed it. "It helped me through a rough time in life. God, I mean."

Joel scoffed. "There is no God."

"Yes, there is. How can you deny His presence in your life, Joel? He's given you everything, everything you hold dear. Can't you see that?"

He cracked the egg into a pan. "If there was a God, he wouldn't shit on us like this. They say God is merciful, yeah? Well, I ain't seen any proof of that. Unless he's gotsum damn sick sense of humor."

She rolled her eyes. "You're hopeless."

"Pray for me, Jemma. I want to see the light."

Jemma paused briefly in the hall, on the way to her room. She watched him cook, and shook her head. "Are you going to that town meeting this morning?" she asked.

"Are you?"

"If you're going, I will."

Joel took a bite of his egg, but spit it back onto his fork. It was too hot. "Well, get ready," he said. "I'm leavin' in five."

...

"...All in favor of the new schedules, please signify."

Jemma doodled on a scrap of paper. Her drawings were rudimentary, but she was bored out of her mind. Joel was in the same position as her, but he didn't have a pen to amuse himself.

"Any announcements?" Maria asked, standing at the podium on the stage. The town hall smelled like mildew and wet glue today, but everyone tried to forget it. They hadn't had a town dinner since the deaths, and the air became stale with no use.

"Um, yes, we have one." A skinny girl stood. She was probably twenty at the most. Her boyfriend stood with her, and held her hand.

"We've decided to get married. We love each other very much, and decided this was the most natural thing to do."

Jemma laughed, but covered it up with a cough. Joel slapped her on the back, trying to keep his composure.

"Everyone is invited. It will be in the beginning of April." Her boyfriend said, beaming.

"Oh, young love," Jemma whispered, realizing she was in a similar position.