A/N: Life, I'm afraid, caught up with me, and that has been the reason that I haven't updated in so long. I apologize. So here is a chapter. A bit short, but a chapter, nonetheless.

MaC:

Thomas.

He's all I could think of. Well… him and the incessant throbbing of my swollen bloody and hurting like hell-fire was burning up my skin, foot. Gritting my teeth I leaned on Minho for support as he wove us through the branches, carefully helping me to move without jostling my foot.

What were they doing to Thomas?

What would they do?

I know what they did to me… what they did to others. I shivered, chills running down my spine. I blinked hard, clearing my mind. I couldn't think of that now. Not… not now.

Minho:

MaC was strangely quiet, though, I suppose that was to be expected. Thomas was still in the hands of those… people… but she was here, and in pain… and danger of loosing her foot… So, in short, she was the priority. Once she was safe, back at the hospice, I could set to work on finding Minho.

I was however, wondering where John was.

I'd sent him back for the girls thinking they could help, but now that I knew what was happening, I wished I hadn't. Those people had and entire camp. It was a pure stroke of luck that MaC had that opportunity to escape.

I didn't think we'd be that lucky again.

Any of us.

A sudden rushing of the bushes caught my attention. MaC's too, her gaze snapping to the sigh of the shaking leaves. We shared a glance, formulating somewhat of a plan. I lent her against a tree, letting go so I had two hands free to fight off whatever it was that came near us.

Turns out it was John. The skank's eyes were wide with relief, a small smile on his lips. Three girls flanked him. Harriet, Sonya, and Maisie. "Oh, good, you people," MaC breathed through the pain, a strained smile on her face. Their collective gazes settling on her… and then her bloody, mutilated foot.

"Ohmygod," Maise breathed immediately walking over to her. Maisie took her arm and wrapped it around her shoulders, helping her to stand. MaC begrudgingly obliged allowing the girl to take on some of her weight and help her to stand.

"Get MaC back to the hospice," I told her. And don't leave until she's okay…

"Where's Thomas?" John piped up.

"He's still back there… which is why I need you three."

MaC's eyes widened, "You can't- You… You don't…" Her breathing was suddenly shallow, underlying panic in her voice, "They- You…" She fumbled over her words, tripping stumbling and stuttering, "Don't get caught."

I nodded absentmindedly, I wasn't gonna get caught.

"Minho!" She said, more forcefully this time. "Don't get caught." It was quieter, softer… almost pleading…

I nodded, meaning it this time.

MaC:

So we separated. Minho, Sonya, Harriet, and John one way. Maisie and I the other. I bit the inside of my cheek for more than one reason. One being pain, absolute, horrendous pain. And the other, worry. Mind-numbing, brain-chilling worry.

What if they did get caught?

What if those… those people did to them what they did to those people I had seen…

What if they ATE them?

AN: MWAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH! CANNIBALS!