THE CHOSEN ONES — PART 1

Nick frowned, mulling it over as Troy turned and went inside yawning. It was weird, too, that Otto would listen and yet not be willing to scope out the territory to make sure. Although it was clear none of them got enough rest, and they just kept going on fumes. Especially Troy. Alicia with her rodeo session needed all the sleep she could get, as well. Nick needed it, but couldn't make himself go inside.

He finished his smoke, considered taking a stroll like Troy did. The moon was behind the clouds, but Nick could see across the field. The forest started about two-three dozen yards behind the guesthouse. He went behind it to take a piss.

He was about to follow his companions' examples and go hit the sack when he heard something. Some faint sounds from the distance. Like shuffling. Footsteps.

Nick pressed his back to the cabin's wall, listening. If it were the infected – if by some crazy reason his paranoia was on point and there was no guard to prevent any from seeping through – they would sell themselves out with other sounds, with that certain way their footfalls shuffle. And he had no knife.

He squatted, trying to feel the ground around him for any weapon, a stick or a rock, but there was nothing. For a long moment of desperate searching, there was nothing. Then his fingers came across a stick. Not much, but better than nothing.

And then, Nick heard voices. Hushed, but he could tell there were a few. He held his breath, listening, his heart pumping in his ears.

"… not enough time. Maybe we should wait a bit more."

"No, it should be fine by now, unless they're superheroes."

"It was a small mug, I couldn't get more."

"It's okay. You wanna go wait out there?"

"No. I'll just… just hurry."

"Shut up, you both."

They stopped. Three of them. And that stupid stick wasn't going to do anything. One went up the porch steps, gingerly opened the door. Stepped inside. The other one followed, but was met with the first one at the door.

"The fourth is missing," a female voice hissed. "Where the fuck is he?"

"Hell would I know? Katie!"

"What? They were all here, all went in, I swear! I swear! I saw!"

"Well, you saw wrong!"

"The hell it matters, just take the girl and go," a male one suggested. "Maybe he passed out in the bushes someplace while taking a piss."

"We can't leave him out there," Katie said. "They'll know! He'll tell them! Please, don—"

"It's on you, you were watching them."

"I did! I did!"

"Go get the girl," the female said. The footsteps went in the cabin, and out, after a bit.

"Sleeping like a baby," the male murmured, making Nick's innards crawl.

"Let's go."

Nick heard someone – probably Katie – take the plate off the porch. The footfalls shuffled away.

He crept to the end of the cabin to peek after them. Three silhouettes, one of them carrying Alicia following another one. Katie walked in the tail, a bit away. Fighting all his instincts, Nick waited for them to get further, then dashed for the forest. It was painful to breathe and run, but he didn't care. As soon as he reached the cover of the first trees starting right after a makeshift fence, he jogged along it toward the main house where the three went.

With short series of cross-runs from house to house, he finally saw how only two were walking away, and Katie was about to go indoors. Nick caught her off-guard and dragged her behind the house, his palm over her mouth to stop her from screaming. When she saw him as the moon left the clouds, he could rather feel her pale. She looked like a scared ghost.

"Who are they and where are they taking her?" he demanded. "What is going on? I don't wanna hurt you, but I will. Unless you speak. So tell me."

"I… I— Oh god, I told them it was too early."

"What are you talking about?" Nick shook her a little. She started to sob.

"They… trailers. They take her there."

"What for?"

"I… I dunno…"

"Bullshit!"

"It's a… a ritual… they need her for… the spirits, they will guide her…"

"What the hell does this all mean?"

She started to cry. She was useless.

"What did you do?"

"I put… some pills… in the wine… my mom, she needs pills to sleep. I took some."

"Why you did it?"

"I had to," she wept, her shoulders shaking in my grip. "I had… to…"

"Listen to me," Nick shook her once, the back of her head hit the wall. He felt no pity, to his surprise. She was just a scared kid, but he still had to fight back his anger. "I need our weapons. Where you keep them?"

She wept harder. "They… gone…"

"What?"

"They… took … them…"

He sucked in a painful breath, thinking, then took his hands off her.

"Your parents know?"

Her crying stopped, her eyes wide and bulging. "Please, don't tell anyone! You can't tell anyone! Or spirits would take them! Please! Please don't tell anyone, please—"

"Just go in and pray I get my sister back," Nick hissed. "Or I'll come back for you, and they'll know what you're doing. You alone in this?"

"I… I…" she wept. Nick was losing time.

"Will they come back? Katie, will they come back?"

She shook her head, weeping like her mother died. "Just… one… they… take… just…"

He debated going back for Troy, but he was out. She put those pills into the wine, and he drank it. Nick wouldn't wake him. He had to believe her, he had to believe they only took Alicia.

He followed their trail out of the ranch. He almost caught up to them, but they didn't bother looking back. Nick was careful, circling around the back of the trailers, keeping to the trees. Their dog barked, but they shut it up. Nick noted the trailer where they put Alicia. They both walked out after a bit and went into another, bigger trailer. The lights were on in it, as well as in a few others. No one was outside, however, on from his side. Nick imagined some might be carrying their watch around the area, but he had a clear passage, and he used it.

The trailer was open. It alarmed Nick in the back of his mind, but he needed to get to Alicia before they returned. She was on the floor, her hands bound behind her back. She was still out cold. He couldn't wake her.

When he was about to haul her up to carry out, the trailer opened, and he heard a trigger click.

"Well, well, well, here's the fourth," the familiar male voice said. "You were right."

"I'm just a translator, Benny," the woman said, Nick saw her smile as the light went on. "The spirits told me he'd come. We have everything in place. Just like they told us."

A whole forever went by, dropping like water from a poorly screwed tap, second after second. Nick's body was going numb, he shifted, and then it all continued. Hours. Eternal hours. Alicia kept sleeping, and he kept beating himself up.

How could we have been so stupid? How could we have stayed? Why wouldn't I insist on following my gut?

It was safer to stay, the ranchers supposed. But gee, how fucking stupid was that? Nick was sure now that all three of them would have been safer if they left.

That felt like some horrible karma, like some bad doom that kept trying to catch up with them. Or maybe with Nick. Maybe he had to die at that dam, and now, like in that silly pre-apocalypse movie, death was chasing to catch up. Through some impossible situations he couldn't foresee.

Consciousness started to seep back in, bringing with it a throbbing headache that made Alicia feel like she was being hit repeatedly with a not-so-gentle hammer. She groaned the first time she tried to move, feeling that her right shoulder had gone numb from continued pressure against a hard surface, and opened her eyes. She was horizontal on the floor looking up at a wall decorated with framed hangings of various flowers done by needlepoint. It looked like the kind elderly ladies would proudly display in their home.

A little bit of light seeped in through the cracks in the curtains, creating a semi-dark atmosphere Alicia and her headache could have appreciated were it not for the fact that she was no longer at the place where she had gone to sleep.

She turned her head eventually, and her gaze landed on Nick. He was sat on the floor, leaning back against the wall opposite her, his arms behind him. He looked miserable and scared.

"Nick?" she murmured, only now registering how dry her mouth was and the fact that she couldn't move her arms. They'd been gathered and tied at the small of her back.

Panic then. Rising fear that continued to elevate, her heart pounding, head spinning as she forced herself to sit up with great effort, looking around like a trapped animal.

It was a trailer or mobile home of some kind. She could see that now. Voices sounded from outside and people-shaped shadows fell on the windows every now and then.

"Are they in there?"

"Yep."

"Can we look?"

"No. Orders from Mother Elise. You'll see them this afternoon when everything is ready."

Silence. Retreating footsteps.

Alicia didn't understand.

Her gaze shot back to Nick. She kept her voice to a whisper so to not alert anyone outside. "Nick? Are you hurt?"

She looked confused, disoriented, and finally, scared. Panicking. As soon as she felt her wrists numb and tied behind her back.

There was, however, an eerie calm inside Nick. As if a part of him started to resign itself to inevitable end that would follow. They didn't take them here to be their guests of honor. By bits and pieces he had caught from outside, it was a bunch of crazies getting high on sacrifices or rituals. What end of the world would it be if it didn't bring out all the crazy it harbored hidden before?

Nick shook his head slowly. "No, but the night is young. The wine was drugged. The girl who brought it, Katie, 's in cahoots with them. Has been awhile, as far as I can judge."

"The lake-people?" Alicia squinted at her brother through the darkness. And she'd been drugged? That explained the headache and why she felt roughly the same as she had after Melissa Stevens' seventeenth birthday party when Alicia'd had one too many shots of tequila.

She tested her restraints, trying to pull her wrists apart, but they wouldn't budge. Cable ties? She made an effort to get to her feet, because surely there had to be something in this trailer they could use to free themselves, but her head spun and her pitiful attempts were thwarted. Instead, she had to settle for shuffling closer to Nick.

"What do they want?" she whispered. "And where's Troy?"

"No one reported to me about what they want," he said. "But it seems to be some kind of sect, with rituals and sacrifices. They didn't mean to take all of us, just you. I wasn't sleeping, so I followed, and so they got two. I assume Troy will be told that we left him. They got some working routine here with the guests of the ranch. If only we didn't stay…"

Despite his exhaustion, Troy'd slept restlessly, dreaming about what if's and how he might have been able to prevent Jake from being munched on by his, Troy's, vengeance if only Troy could control himself. Only it was never a walker that was cutting into him with blunt teeth – it was Troy himself. As he tucked into Jake's arm, he was convinced he could taste the disappointment and sorrow in the thickness of his blood, his final words of condemnation clear and brittle, hollowing out until they faded and Troy was left with sunlight and silence.

It took him a moment to comprehend that he was awake and, more importantly, alone.

He pushed himself up onto his elbows, blinking furiously to push aside the heaviness of last night's exhaustion and what he assumed was his lack of decent sleep, and steadily sat up.

Henry wasn't on the bed next to him, Alicia's sleeping bag was unzipped and left where she'd put it the night before in a messy heap and Nick's hadn't moved from its spot in the corner.

Hadn't he slept at all last night?

Troy sat up, swung his legs off the bed and pressed two fingers to the each of his temples to alleviate the mild headache he had. He needed something to drink.

He got up, still dressed in his clothes, and stumbled to the door expecting to see Nick, perhaps, on the stair sharing a cigarette with his sister.

Troy knew he wasn't or couldn't be dreaming, because there were people walking to and fro between the houses, either in the middle or starting their daily chores. Some smiled his way. Troy inhaled slowly in hopes the fresh air would help clear his head, and slowly started down the porch steps, intending to head for the main house, expecting that his friends might be having breakfast.

And they were.

But Alicia and Nick weren't among them.

"Morning, Troy," Rosemary greeted, smiling that one hundred kilowatt smile that looked and felt genuine. "Care for some eggs? Mushrooms? Katie just cut up some melon."

Henry had a mouthful and was smiling, too. George, Troy assumed, had already eaten and was off taking care of his leadership duties and making sure that the ranch was locked up nice and tight.

"I wouldn't mind breakfast but uh… I don't suppose you've seen Nick and Alicia?"

Rosemary's smile dimmed and her eyes momentarily darted to Henry as if to gauge his reaction. "Oh."

Oh?

"They left," Henry supplied.

For a second Troy wasn't sure he'd heard them correctly.

"Are you okay, Troy?" Rosemary asked, brows furrowed with apprehension, her hands darting to her apron to wipe them clean as she strolled toward Troy. He took an immediate step back.

"When did they leave?"

"Katie said she saw them go early this morning."

Troy averted his gaze to the Gretchen-lookalike and met her eyes in a way he couldn't the day before, observing that she looked skittish, her features slightly paler and less welcome than they were earlier.

She's feeling sorry for me?

"Did they say anything?" he asked, speaking directly to the girl.

Rosemary intervened like a mother hen, shielding her friend's daughter from his probing gaze, sensing the change in atmosphere and like she needed to do her best to soothe the situation.

"They thanked us for the overnight, made their apologies and left."

Why would they do that, and more importantly, why would they do that without Troy? Were they that worried about his views on their discussion about the turf-wars, or was it more reprehensible than that?

Nick had aired some doubts.

"I'm sorry," Rosemary said, apologizing for either their antics or the part she had to play in their disappearance, Troy couldn't tell and wasn't able to dissect her meaning. "You're welcome to stay with us, Troy. Henry says he doesn't know you very well but that if you're anything like your brother that you'd be a credit to the team."

He had absolutely nothing to say to that, and instead took in the scene before him with a new light.

Henry continued to eat, meeting Troy's eye every now and then, and Rosemary had turned to grab a plate and was scooping a generous amount of the stuff she'd spoken of before setting them down on the table.

"Come. Sit. Eat," she said, pulling an open chair away from the table.

She was smiling again, that welcome motherly type that might have hooked Troy in the past and weakened his knees, but this time it made him feel alien and moderately stupid. He'd fallen for a smile just like that a couple of months ago. It made you feel like you belonged, like you were loved or at least cared for.

He wanted to cut it off her face.

Only he wouldn't.

Not yet, and not until he'd found out where they'd kept his friends or what they did to them.

Troy returned the smile and moved to sit at the table at her polite request, reaching for the knife and fork she'd offered, and began to dig in, listening and replying as needed as she asked what he used to do on his farm and what he might like to do here if he decided to stay.

Sect? Rituals? Sacrifice? What the fuck?

Alicia blinked at him, assuming for a moment she'd heard him wrong. She could smack him for having followed and gotten himself into this mess as well, but that would make her a hypocrite. She would have done the same in his stead.

"Did you get a good look at them? Know how many there are?"

"At least a dozen," Nick assumed. "There's no way of knowing for sure. I'm sorry, Lisha. I should have insisted on leaving, we'd be safe then."

He finally found the tail of the zip-tie holding his wrists with his fingers. He pulled at it, tightening the restraints, until there was no space and it hurt. He drew in a slow deeper breath, close to praying it would work, then began to strain his wrists to break it.

By the feel of it, it wasn't going to be easy, if possible at all.

"Don't," Alicia said sternly, finally getting her back against the wall, using it to help her get to her feet. "This is not on you. Nor me. Nor Troy. This is all on them."

A vague gesture in the direction of the door was made. She was surprised to find herself more angry than scared at the moment, but she welcomed it.

Her legs didn't seem to have gotten the memo, however, and they wobbled slightly as she walked the tiny room, searching for something, anything, that could be used as a weapon.

"There's nothing here, you can sit back down," Nick informed, wincing at his wrists screaming at his every attempt to break the zip-tie. "They wouldn't have left us here together if they thought we had a chance."

"How long had the three of you been travelling together?" Rosemary asked Troy once they'd finished off breakfast and it was just the two of them. Katie had excused herself some time ago, Henry had gone to relieve himself, and George had stopped in just long enough to comment on the coffee, to try and sell Troy the same shit she had about staying and to finish what he was doing with the cattle. One of their cows was readying to give birth and they feared because of her fluctuating weight that it would be a difficult one.

"A couple of months."

She nodded gently, appearing thoughtful.

"This life has changed our standard outlooks, our responsibilities and how we deal with people on a social level. You and your friends didn't talk about going your separate ways?"

"Not directly. I guess they felt we had irreconcilable opinions," he stated.

No part of Troy believed that. He refused. He searched her face for some chink in that understanding armor and found it incredible hard. She was good. A superb actress. If he were in any other position, he'd be a fan.

But two could play that game.

And play he would. Hard.

"Then in that they're smart and doing what's best for them. Being with people who aren't likeminded in how to deal with this new world is a sure way of getting yourself killed or hurt. What is it you want, Troy?"

He leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table with a shrug.

"I get it, it isn't an easy question," she murmured, smiling with something that could only be described as sympathy. It made him want to reach over and wrap his hands around her throat. "In the meantime, while you figure it out, the invitation is open and you're welcome to make yourself at home."

She got up from the table, pushing her plate together with Henry's, and reached for Troy's. He warded off her attempt, withdrawing the plate out of her reach childishly, smiling as he did to let her know he was teasing.

"The least I can do is the dishes."

"Nonsense," Rosemary chimed, waving off his courtesy as she bid to make a grab for the plate again. He repeated his previous act by keeping it just out of reach and smiled wider.

"I insist."

Rosemary gave him a light-hearted reproachful look, and, after a moment's hesitation, slid the plates across the table. He collected them together and headed for the basin he'd seen Katie use to clean the pans. She'd filled it with fresh water. He dumped the cutlery into it, scrubbed the plates as needed with a steel brush resting on a side plate with dish soap, and dried them with a dishtowel, putting them down on a clean pile stacked close to the stove. When Rosemary busied herself with putting away the spices and wiping down the counter to free it of crumbs and make room for the next step to her morning, he swiped one of the blunt butter knives she'd given him to use and slipped it into his pocket.

"You know anything about baking bread, Troy?"

"That was never really my specialty."

"Did you know that you could do it with the right ingredients and no more than sunlight?"

He had and had witnessed as much at Broke Jaw.

"Yes, ma'am."

"But you've never made it?"

He folded his arms across his chest and shook his head.

"It's a handy skill to know and will keep your stomach full if you decide to leave us and take off alone. Come on, I'll show you how to do it. It literally only takes fifteen or ten minutes to throw together."

The act was getting worse – domestically so – and yet part of Troy knew that, if he attacked her, forced her to tell him that what happened to Nick, or accused any of them of harming the two, it would change his position in the group and call into question his freedom.

He had to play it smart—by playing it dumb—and bid his time.

At least until he knew where to start looking for them and had checked the grounds to his satisfaction.

"Grab that mixing bowl," she said, gesturing to a bright neon green plastic dish on the counter.

Troy rolled up his sleeves and did as she requested, easily following her instructions, smiling when she reprimanded him for doing something she viewed as clumsy.

"I don't wanna sit down," Alicia said. Of course, Nick had been right in his assumption of the situation – there was nothing here that could be used to their benefit. The picture frames didn't even have real glass in them. But she had to try. Had to do something.

When the door to the trailer suddenly opened, Alicia stepped back, instinctively shielding Nick from view to the best of her ability as well as putting distance between herself and whoever was entering. It was two women, one of them in her thirties, the other closer to Alicia's age.

"I see we're all awake," the older of the two remarked, smiling and brandishing a gun.

Alicia didn't reply, keeping her eyes trained on that gun, gauging her chances to knock it from her grasp. They weren't good. And even if she could have managed, her restraints would have made the move useless.

"Go on," the woman said, now speaking to her accomplice, encouraging her to step forward. The younger girl seemed tentative, uncertain, as she approached Alicia. She was carrying a strip of fabric, and when she raised it as if to cover Alicia's eyes, Alicia flinched away, moving until her back hit the wall beside Nick.

"Don't make this difficult," the older woman said, raising her gun and pointing it directly at Alicia's leg. "Co-operate or I'll make it hurt. And if that's not incentive enough," she shifted the angle of her weapon, aiming for Nick now, "I'll put a bullet in your boyfriend's head."

Alicia's blood ran cold at that threat. She shot a frightened look at Nick before taking a step forward, clenching her jaw and keeping as still as possible as she allowed the girl to blindfold her and take away her sight.

"It's okay," the younger one whispered as she tied the knot, and she sounded so sincere Alicia almost believed her. Almost.

"You'll see each other again soon."

Even though his pulse accelerated at the idea of letting them take her away again to who knows what, and the younger girl's 'You'll see each other again soon' was finished with 'on the other side' in his head, Nick didn't move as they blindfolded Alicia. What for, he had no clue. Both Clarks knew where they were.

"Can anyone finally explain what the hell is going on here?" Nick asked as the girl jerked his sister's arm to follow her.

The older one smiled condescendingly, lowering her gun. "It's not our place to explain," she said. "The spirits will guide you. Or they won't."

With that, they left.

Nick sighed, shifted as his legs were going numb, and began torturing his wrists again, pulling at the zip-tie, willing it to snap. He caught the tail again, tightened it some more, although there was barely any millimeters left to do that, and tried again. Breathed, and tried again. That'd go better had his hands been in front of him.

They led Alicia out of the trailer, careful to make sure she didn't lose her balance on the narrows stairs, and she heard the door slam shut behind them. Movement too, as if someone had just blocked the entrance from outside. Maybe guarding it?

The women's grasps on her arms were gentle but firm as they walked her across the grounds. She could hear voices in the distance, crackling of a fire nearby, and the crunch of twigs and dead leaves beneath the soles of her boots. Other than that nothing that hinted at why they had taken them, and where they were bringing her now.

"Why am I blindfolded?" she asked, half-expecting neither of them to answer. Again, it was the oldest who spoke.

"No peeking before it's time."

Alicia had no idea what to make of that.

It wasn't long before she found herself in another trailer. The fabric was pulled off her head, and the ties around her wrists cut. She knew better than to expect this to be some sort of kindness on their part and wasn't proven wrong when the lady with the gun made use of her weapon once more, pointing it at her.

"Strip," she said simply, gesturing to Alicia's jeans and tank top.

Alicia glared daggers at her, incredulous. "I'm not doing shit."

She stepped close and put the barrel to Alicia's shoulder, staring her down.

"You can either take your clothes off, or I can cut you out of them as you bleed to death on the floor. Your choice."

Alicia caved, reluctantly so, but she did. They were probably going to kill her, but she didn't have to tempt them into pulling the trigger quicker than necessary. Because if there was anything she'd learned about this new world, it was that everything could change in a few seconds. She and Nick would make it through this. They had to.

Alicia leaned down to undo the laces on her boots, freeing herself of them and her socks. The jeans and top followed suit, all landing in a heap on the floor. She didn't make any attempts at removing her underwear and the woman seemed satisfied with her efforts for now, so Alicia left it.

The younger girl emerged from the tiny bathroom carrying towels and cloths as well as a washbasin with warm water and soap. Alicia stared at them both, highly confused. They were going to wash her?

Turned out, yes. The two women scrubbed her vigorously from the top of her forehead to the soles of her feet, and the dreaded moment where she was no longer allowed her underwear finally came. All her questions went unanswered. So did her insults. It seemed to have no effect on the two, whatsoever. They were perfectly content in their own little world, a stark contrast from both of their earlier dispositions.

"What the fuck is wrong with you people?!" Alicia cried eventually, frustrated and frightened and confused. The younger woman looked up at her then, smiling.

"All will be made clear in time. You have been chosen by the spirits. It is a great honor."

After Rosemary and Troy had thrown the bread mix together, she'd shooed him out the front door and told him to take a look around the rest of the ranch to see if he liked it.

That had been his intention to begin with but her earnest want for him to do so and her added need for his opinion if he were to see anything out of place surprised him.

Why, if she were guilty, would she be letting him run around without a leash?

Maybe she wasn't involved and he was grasping at straws? Maybe Nick had just up and left in the middle of the night worried that Troy was going to go a-wall and drag his beloved sister into a battle over four walls and some fish, and decided that getting as far away from Troy was his best bet to keeping her safe.

Especially after last night's semi-political discussion.

No, he wouldn't do that, and if he did… he'd tell Troy to his face. He wasn't a coward. If anything, so far, he'd been one of the most honest people Troy'd ever known – knew.

He scrubbed a hand to smooth away the headache that had returned with a vengeance. Not that it had ever left.

"You okay there, Troy?"

He looked up, met Henry's eyes and nodded.

"You sure?"

"Could be better," Troy conceded, gifting him a thin smile. "Don't suppose you know where I'll find Katie?"

"You're worried about your friends?"

Troy offered up no explanation, and he didn't press for one.

"If she's not with Rosemary in the kitchen, she might be at the pantry, the vegetable patch or at home."

"Which house does she stay in?" Troy asked.

He gestured to a house not far off from where they'd stayed the night before. Troy thanked him and prepared to take a walk around, pausing when Henry briefly called to stop him.

"I'm going to be heading back to the cabin, if that's alright?"

Troy started at him dumbly, gobsmacked that he needed Troy's permission to do so.

"I brought you here. I didn't want you thinking I was just going to abandon you. Besides, now that it's just you, you'll be wanting to stay at the cabin, right? Or have you taken Rosemary up on her offer?"

Neither.

"I think I'll stay here for a while."

Henry smiled knowingly, glancing around as if to admire the ranch's glory. "If you ever feel like a visit, the door's tentatively open and I could use the company."

They shared a last smile and then went their separate ways.