THE CHOSEN ONES — PART 2

When there was nothing else left in and around Nick but the stinging fire-fest in his wrists, the zip tie snapped. He froze, not believing it at first, then slowly brought his hands before him, eyeing the bruised, bleeding skin. Nick sucked in a shaky breath and scrambled to his feet. The morning sun was blazing through the dusty window, probably reflecting from it in a blinding glare, which helped as Nick peeked cautiously through it, trying to not disturb the dirty curtains.

There seemed to be one guard outside, a gun hanging on the belt at the hip that Nick could see. He had a western-like hat on, and it gave Nick a faint idea.

He squeezed the broken zip tie in his hand, put his wrists together behind him and settled on the floor. He kicked the wall two times as hard as he could, then made loud choking noises.

The door opened and let in the guard.

"The fuck," he cursed, observing the boy shaking on the floor. "What the fuck! Fuck! Hey! The fuck is wrong with you?"

The guard hesitated – debating running to get someone else or coming closer for inspection – and Nick's fragile plan hung by the thread. Nick stilled, wheezing quietly. The sound was almost genuine, since his bruised ribs didn't let him forget about them for a second.

The guard came up gingerly, crouched, his hand came to Nick's shoulder. And then Nick's struck up grabbing the guard's neck and yanking him down. The guard tumbled next to Nick; Nick had his head in the lock between his knees, squeezing with all the adrenaline-powered might he had. The guard could barely wheeze or realize what happened when Nick brought an elbow down hard on his temple, then again. Nick yanked the knife from the sheath on his other hip and added a hit of the handle. The skin split, blood oozed out. The guard was out, all right.

Reluctantly, Nick loosened his legs and pushed the guard away, trying to catch his breath. His heart was pounding in his throat, his head swimming. Now he felt the lack of sleep weighing like a ton over his shoulders.

It took him another seven minutes to put on the guard's clothes. He was, thankfully, not bearded, though a bit taller than Nick, but Nick believed in the lack of observation in people when they saw a familiar shape. If those people were like CIA agents, Nick was screwed. But that was yesterday's news, anyway.

He put on the hat, took a deeper breath before the door, then stepped out. A couple of young women were nearby, talking while washing clothes in two metal basins. They barely looked back at him.

"Watch the door for a sec, need a piss," Nick called in a slightly lower voice, waving a hand toward the back of the trailers.

They giggled.

"Hurry back," one of them called. "Or you're in trouble."

Keeping his face concealed by the hat the best he could, Nick made another dismissive gesture and went behind the trailer, creeping along them. Nick had no idea where they could have led her, but then there was a cry.

"What the hell is wrong with you, people?!"

Her voice. Nick forgot to breathe and hurried to where he thought it came from. It was stupidly lucky that no one lingered their eyes on him to stop his progress. When he came to the trailer he thought was the one, he waited a moment to make sure. There was a female voice saying something about the spirits again. Nick could barely make out the phrase, but there was no way it could be told to someone other than Alicia.

He pulled the gun and went in quickly, snapping the door closed behind him and propping it with his back.

There were the two women that took Alicia away. They were startled, the younger one gasped at the sight of the gun aiming between them, the older one seemed annoyed more than scared, but she tried to step away from Nick, nevertheless.

Alicia stood naked in a bathtub. In the back of his mind, Nick felt sorry he barged in, but the urgent survivalist part of him didn't care.

When the door opened, Alicia instinctively covered herself with her arms, indignant and furious, glaring at the man who rushed inside until she recognized his true identity. Nick.

"Get dressed," he said, snapping her out of her own stupor, and pulled the hat off, letting it drop on the floor.

She didn't hesitate. She stepped away from the women and grabbed her clothing off the floor, turning her back on them all as she pulled her jeans and top back on. Alicia didn't bother with socks this time and simply shoved her feet into her boots, lacing them up as quickly and tightly as she was able, assuming they were going to have to run. How Nick had managed to get one over on them she didn't know. But God, how she loved him in that moment.

The older woman sneered like a witch. "You're digging yourselves a deeper grave," she hissed, eyeing Alicia and Nick. "You're going to pay dearly. Where is Sam?"

Nick shrugged. "Better shut up or I'll send you to him."

"Give me your gun," Alicia said to the older woman, eyeing the weapon she had tucked away in her belt. The woman looked up to meet the girl's gaze, defiant.

"No."

Alicia's hand reached out and slapped her so quickly and so hard the imprint of her fingers still lingered on her cheek as she withdrew. Alicia wasn't even sure she had meant to do that. But a part of her hated this woman, as well as her accomplice. And she didn't feel sorry.

The woman gasped and groaned, doubling over before slowly and reluctantly handing Alicia her gun.

Katie wasn't at home, wasn't helping with the birthing of the calf and wasn't tending to the vegetable patch, and for a second, Troy convinced himself she'd disappeared off the face of the earth.

He found her in the pantry, her back to the door, whispering with another friend in the corner. A boy about the same age as her.

Her boyfriend?

From where Troy stood, it didn't look as if they were groping one another or attempting a clumsy quickie.

The boy's eyes connected with Troy's over her shoulder, widening as if trapped and then relaxed. Katie had whirled around, mouth open, her deer-caught-in-headlights expression more prominent than ever. They were both sweating.

"Rosemary sent me to get some ingredients for bread."

Neither relaxed, but after a nudge from the boy Katie finally moved. "Is—is she out of flour? I thought I-I filled it yesterday."

When she'd delivered the pie and whatever that drink was last night, she hadn't been stuttering as she was now, in fact, she'd been cheerful, friendly and oddly self-assured.

Troy shrugged noncommittally. "I just do as I'm told. I also needed the excuse to talk to you."

She stopped what she was doing and straightened up, her eyes instantly seeking her companion for help. "T—to m-me?"

"T-t-t…yeah," Troy mocked, finding his patience quickly wearing thin. He'd been playing the straight-laced believe it game for over an hour now and he was sick of it. This girl was cracking, he only needed to know why.

"Hey," the boy retorted with just the right amount of indignation to be annoying, puffing out his chest and moving to shield Katie as Rosemary had done before.

"You said you spoke to my friends when they left," Troy stated, disregarding his bravado. "What did they say?"

"I—I didn't s-s-speak to t-them directly."

If she were wearing a lie detector the needle would be going crazy.

"You didn't? Who did?" Again, her eyes drifted to her companion, silently pleading for some kind of assistance. Troy followed her gaze. "You?"

The boy looked startled with the line of questioning, deflating slightly before forcing himself to remain cool. Troy had seen this response in many people during his experiments.

"No, none of us did, alright? They just left," he snapped, jutting out his lower lip, grabbing Katie's wrist, making to drag her for the exit behind Troy. Rosemary and Henry had been so convincing in their innocence and naivety, that when these two numbskulls confirmed his suspicion it was borderline euphoric. They'd taken no more than two steps and were trying to get past him when his fist connected with the boy's face, his head cracking off the shelving like a bouncy ball, sending him to the floor of the pantry unconscious.

Not what Troy'd intended, but also not a problem.

Katie was wide-eyed and she'd screamed for all of two seconds before snapping her mouth shut.

Troy wondered why.

Actually, he didn't have to – he knew.

She was scared he'd do the same thing to her to shut her up and that the people wouldn't make it in time to save her. If they even heard her. The miracle of birth was happening and everyone was tied up.

Well, most.

"Where are my friends?" Troy repeated, satisfied that her boyfriend would be out for a while.

"I-I-I d-don't' k-know. T-they l-left."

"You're lying."

"I-I'm n-not." She was close to tears now.

"Why don't you just tell me the truth and save yourself?" he asked, keeping his eyes on her as he crouched over the boy and patted him down for weapons.

There was a knife in his boot and a twelve round handgun tucked into the holster on his hip. Troy removed both.

Katie had inched away, her back pressed against a stack of barrels. Troy slipped the gun into his pocket, twirled the knife once and swiftly drove it into the boy's right arm, using his free hand to cover his mouth and the inevitable scream as he violently came to. Either from the pain in his arm or from his head, no sooner his eyes had opened, no sooner they closed again. Katie was breathing hard, tears falling freely now, her knees drawn to her chest, unable to look Troy in the eye.

"That was a freebie to let you know I was done fucking around and playing nice. I want answers and I want truth. I suggest you start flapping those stuttering lips of yours."

"They'll c-come f-f-for m-me. Us."

"I doubt that, Gretchen. You didn't hear? Everyone's tending to Betsy."

Nick felt a jolt inside when Alicia slapped the woman. More so, as he watched his sister's face. There was not much choices left for the two of them behavior-wise, but it still hurt to see her like this, resorting to violence and rage beyond remorse for it. A direct reference to his own sins back at the other trailer. He could have killed that guy, Sam. He could have gone a blow less. But didn't choose to.

When Alicia stepped back from the woman, having claimed her gun, Nick swung his own at the woman's head. The younger one let out a strained squeal and pressed her palms over her mouth, watching her friend slump to the floor.

Nick swallowed the disgust at himself and went to her. Her eyes locked on his, wide, thoroughly terrified. He was the monster in her story. He was sorry to be, but he saw no better option. Her hands fell off her face; her mouth formed a huge O to scream when his gun knocked her out.

"We need to go for the woods, as fast as we can," he told Alicia, forcing himself to look at her. "You okay?"

It was strange watching her brother utilize violence. Even back in the day when he was desperate for drugs she'd rarely seen him resort to such measures. This new world had changed them all.

"I'm fine," she said, not meeting his eyes, instead checking the ammo of her gun. Getting into the forest was easier said than done. There were still people lingering outside and she suspected they'd take notice of the Clarks immediately if the two were to step out among them.

Alicia moved towards the window and peered outside from behind the curtain. "It's not clear yet."

"If we don't leave now, they're gonna come here," he said, replicating her ammo check. It was full. They didn't have to use it often, he guessed. "I don't know if that guy's alive, if he wakes up, if someone will wanna check why there's no guard outside anymore… We just gotta run NOW."

He looked out the window. There were more people than around his trailer. A few men, a couple of women in their twenties.

He hated it all.

"If they try to stop us, we'll have to shoot," he murmured, tried to swallow back the sickness in the back of his throat. "Shoot to kill."

Her mouth went dry again, but she nodded. The only other option was to surrender and die, and she didn't have that in her. "Let's go."

With the gun in one hand she slowly turned the handle on the door, and opened it. Silent. No one looked their way as they stepped outside. She barely dared to breathe, keeping close to Nick, observing their surroundings but keeping her head down.

They were almost out of the opening, steering behind the trailer, when one of the women called to them. "Hey, that's against the rules! You can't take her!"

"It's okay!" Nick called back, raising his hand momentarily, ushering Alicia with another one, hoping she would hurry.

"I'm gonna call Mother Elise!" the woman said.

"Go, go, go," Nick whispered, nudging Alicia forward. She trotted.

There were raised voices behind them, urging them to run. He could sense the air changing around the camping grounds; they were grabbing guns and hurrying to cut their way before they escaped.

Two men ran toward them, guns cocked, yelling warnings. One of them shot under their feet, but Nick only urged Alicia to run faster. He slowed down a second to take a shot at the armed men. One of them went down. Nick ran after his sister, the adrenaline letting him bear the pain in his chest. They were still shooting at the siblings' feet; Nick turned to return the favor, slowing down and pulling the trigger. Jeremiah taught him well. One more fell down. Nick turned and ran faster. He thought he got him in the stomach. It was nasty, but Nick wasn't willing to debate his morals again. Not before he had the luxury to stop running.

As far as he understood from the surroundings, the forest and the mountain they wanted to go to were behind them, far behind on the other side of the camping ground. They were running in the opposite direction. The chase fell back, tending to the wounded, and that was the last Nick saw. He didn't turn to look, anymore, until they crossed the highway, reached some trees, got past them, and continued to run until there was some building ahead.

Nick wasn't going to have much air left for longer, but he wasn't going to stop Alicia. She had a nice pace ahead of him, and Nick was grateful for her lungs that were capable of helping her speed.

They ran until Alicia felt like her lungs were going to explode and her legs give out from under her. Nick stopped once or twice to shoot at their pursuers and she paused to watch whenever he did, terrified the bullets they were sending the Clarks' way would find their target in him. They didn't. And soon, the gunfire stopped altogether.

They continued to run. Nick eventually lagged behind and she stopped to let him catch up, not liking the distance between them. They were both breathing too hard to speak, so when they came upon a building with a large sign reading The AS&F Foundation Dining Hall And Activity Center, Alicia simply made vague gestures in that direction.

She peered in through the windows and glass doors, checking for infected inside, but from this vantage point she couldn't see any. The brightly colored banner across the door that declared "Campers Welcome!" was spattered in blood, and didn't make her feel welcome at all, but still… They didn't have many other options.

She nudged the door open with her hip and slipped inside, waiting until Nick joined her before allowing it to fall closed behind her.

"We...can't stay...here," she panted, looking around, trying to assess the direction of the kitchen. "They'll find us...too easily. Are you okay?"

When they got to the building and past some sign Nick couldn't read because it was all blurry colors, he thought he was going to either puke or pass out. Or both. His lungs were on fire, his chest a hellish pit of agony that spilled all over his torso.

He slipped into the open door after Alicia, then dropped down on the floor, his back to the wall, doubling over to catch his breath. Alicia's voice came through the thick of pillows on his ears. Blots of red and black were dancing in his eyes. He only shook his head at her question.

When it became clear he was going to stay conscious, he looked up at her, straining to talk. "We… can't stay… here. If I killed any… of them… they will… chase."

He looked close to passing out and that probably explained why he was repeating what she'd said. Alicia decided to let that go, considering, well, everything. She just nodded in reassurance. "Check your gun. Count the bullets. I'll go check the kitchen for water, and then we leave, okay?"

She didn't know where to go or even their current location, really, but they'd have to figure that out on the move. She headed to the left, down the hallway and ducked into the first open doorway she came across. It was the dining hall advertised outside the building. The kitchen was behind it. Her gun at the ready, she navigated her way through the chaotic array of tables and chairs until she reached her intended destination. Like most of the other places they'd come across in the past it was picked clean. She tested the taps. It sputtered water colored orange, filled with rust and other substances she was not willing to put in her body. It didn't seem to get better over time either.

"Fuck."

Troy only had to stab the boy once more before Katie started singing like a canary. She'd drugged them last night with the drink and then she and her merry band of chance takers had come in and carried them away. She hadn't told him why, yet, but it was enough to motivate him into action.

"Get up," he demanded.

"W-What?"

"I said get up. We're going."

Katie stared at him, eyes glassy and red from crying, and then she slowly climbed to her feet. "W-where a-are w-we g-going?" She was speaking so softly he strained to hear her.

Stone-cold killer.

Troy'd have laughed if he didn't feel this entire thing was ironic. "Timbuktu."

He strode toward her, grabbed a hold of her upper arm and hauled her away from the safety of the wall, ignoring her trembling as she stumbled into him and then beside him.

"W-what a-about T-Timmy?" she sobbed, breaking away from Troy momentarily to look back at the still unconscious figure in the middle of the walkway as they headed for the door.

"He'll live."

"How can you be sure?"

"I'm not."

Another sob tore from her lips, distinctly louder and silenced as he shoved her into the wall, bringing the bloody tip of the blade up to her stomach, applying just enough pressure to make her flinch at the realization.

"Just because you're a girl, doesn't mean I won't split you from naval to nose."

He applied more pressure to the handle for emphasis. She gasped and nodded frantically.

"You're going to wipe your face, put on a smile and stick close when we go outside. You run, I'll wedge this into your back and paralyze you before anyone can pull a trigger." He drew the knife upward, not letting it slice the fabric as much as it did caress it like a lover, and let the tip come to rest beneath her chin. "Who else was involved with kidnapping my friends? Henry? Rosemary?"

She tipped her head away from the blade and gently shook her head. "J-just u-us."

"You and napster?"

She looked blank for a second. Troy sighed.

"Jimmy, Tom, Tim, whatever," he corrected.

"Y-yes," she answered, voice cracked with tears.

"Seems pretty put together for two pubescent idiots such as yourselves."

Her gaze jumped to the ceiling and then to the left. Another indication that she'd lied, that she was protecting someone – possibly a whole group of someone's. Unfortunately, Troy couldn't get the answers he wanted from her on the Ranch. Someone was going to look for them eventually.

"Is there another way off the ranch other than the front gate?"

Katie shook her head.

"Are you sure? From what I can tell about this place, about George, I'm sure he has a plan B in place in case this place gets overrun and you all need to get out safely. He'd be stupid not to. How else would he save the cattle?"

"I-I'm n-not l-lying," she entreated.

Troy hadn't said that she was, he was merely making an observation, but now that he thought about it, maybe he'd given her too little credit. He stepped back from her abruptly, heading back toward the boy, bending to grab a fistful of his hair, immediately pressing the blade to his neck as he crouched down.

"NO!" she cried, the stutter buried by adrenaline.

He drew the knife against the boy's neck and cut into the soft flesh slowly.

"Please stop! I'll take you! I'll take you."

"Would it be possible to do so unseen and with a horse?"

"N-no b-but I-I'll h-help y-you! J-just d-don't k-kill h-him!"

Troy removed the knife as if it were a favor to her, smiling as he did, grabbing a fistful of the kid's shirt to drag him away from the door and to the back of the room, to the dark corner they'd shared a few moments ago.

She hadn't run.

That was a good sign.

Troy walked over to her and raised a hand to wipe the tears from her face, gripping her chin to remind her of his promise, and then prepared to open the door. "Let's go get Fido."

Nick had to sit with his back to the wall, breathing slowly, for a longer time to be able to get up. When he managed to get on his feet, shaking with exhaustion, Alicia wasn't back yet. He peeked out the windows. There was nothing alarming at first, but then he saw some people approach.

He dashed to where his sister had disappeared earlier, finding her in the kitchen. "They're here, we gotta leave! We need a back door, now!"

Nick's appearance startled her, but as soon as his words sunk in, she dashed for him and back into the hallway. "This way."

It was pure guesswork, but once more they found themselves with very few viable options. She clutched the shoulder of Nick's shirt as they hastily rounded a corner and reached a glass door leading to a nearly empty parking lot. There were several buildings up ahead, but if the lake-people had come here, she assumed they would check them all.

The siblings crouched down, staying low as they moved across the parking lot, trying to stay out of sight.

There was not too much space to maneuver or hide. A few cars abandoned at the back of the house they were in spared them a little trouble covering the retreat. There was a bigger house across the driveway, but they didn't go there. From the short glance over his shoulder, Nick saw they were heading to it. There seemed to be four people after them, three men and a woman that looked like the one in her thirties, tough and angry.

Only two of them entered the house, the other two went around the back. And then the Clarks dashed forward, toward another building with a flat roof.

There was a stray walker wandering around there. They stabbed him and dragged inside as they went. Leaving him in front of the house was like announcing where they went. The lake-people could find them, anyway, but it felt better to not leave any bread crumbs.

There were three floors. They stopped on the landing leading to the third to catch their breaths. A few more dead came after them, and they put them down on their way here.

"So what," Nick asked, panting. "The floor or the roof? The latter means we're trapped, but we can control who gets there after us."

The adrenaline coursing through her body made it difficult to choose logic over instinct, and when they finally had a split-second decision to make, Alicia had to force herself to think.

"The roof," she said, checking her gun even if she knew she still had a full sleeve of ammo. She had yet to fire a single shot. "We can pick them off one by one if they follow."

They were both decent shots, and she told herself it wouldn't be too hard to put bullets in the heads of the living like they so often did the dead. As far as she knew, it was them or the Clarks now, and she did not want another repeat of the events with Proctor John. If she got her chance, she wouldn't hesitate to pull the trigger.

Nick looked at her incredulously, feeling like he was stuck in some bizarre dream about to get ugly while he still wasn't sure how to wake up.

"With just these guns, we won't become snipers, Lisha," he said. "They certainly won't make it easy for you. This is the Alamo I was talking about on our way here. The very thing I feared and wanted to avoid. We go up that roof now, and we're done. We're stuck there with two choices – die up there or come down to them and die anyway. We need to try to not get trapped."

"Then why did you suggest it in the first place?!" she hissed, darting after him down the stairs and outside.

He trotted down the stairs and back to the first floor. There was no sight of the pursuers yet, so they snuck out the back door and ran for the trees. There was a hill to the left with a water tower. Another roof to get stuck on. Past the hill, Nick recalled there should be some other park and maybe a few buildings. The pickings were extremely slim in this area when it came to hiding places. But running off into the wilderness wasn't the smartest move, either. They could easily get lost and not find their way back to Troy.

A dog was barking where they came from. They brought a dog. And Nick's old clothes were conveniently left in the trailer next to the guard he knocked out (or killed).

He grabbed Alicia's arm and ran sideways, around the hill. To whatever might be there behind it.

There happened to be a thin creek crossing their path. They stopped for a few gulps of water, then ran along it for a bit before continuing past the rare trailers and to a house sitting among a few trees.

For a long time trees and more trees seemed to be the only thing in their vicinity, but Alicia realized it was highly possible that what felt like long minutes in her tired mind may have been nothing more than seconds.

When they finally closed in on a house in a clearing, she doubled over, hands braced on her knees as she tried to catch her breath. She could taste blood, which in itself didn't worry her, considering it was a common occurrence whenever she ran for long stretches, but it certainly didn't make her feel better. The only thing keeping her going was adrenaline and the knowledge if they were caught, the lake-people would kill them both.

There were a few cars parked outside the house, but they didn't seem to have been in use for quite some time. And the house itself appeared abandoned. At least from the outside.

Alicia forced herself to straighten and looked to her brother. He didn't seem to be faring much better than herself. "Any idea where we are in relation to the ranch? The jeep?"

Nick ushered her inside the house, pulling his knife out the second he saw the walker, withered and slow, notice them from the back of the room. He appeared to be alone, wearing a uniform of a Hurkey Creek Park ranger. The siblings dropped in the chairs, doubling over to get their breathing in order.

"I have… a faint… idea," Nick confessed, wiping the knife on his trouser and sheathing it. "We're… north-west… from the ranch… far enough… north of… the lake. In the complete opposite… direction of… what I intended."

Katie stuck close to Troy as they walked for the stables, a small smile forced onto her lips as if she thought that would make her look normal and less inclined to panic.

"Lock your shit down, Kate. One would swear you've never kidnapped anyone before," he whispered.

Katie flushed and her mouth opened with the visceral need to plead her case.

"No judgements. I don't care." He really didn't. "All I want is my friends and you can go about the rest of your days abducting whoever the hell else you want."

Katie faltered in her step and stared at him in confusion and disbelief.

"Out of interest, how many times have you guys done this?"

Katie averted her gaze and bit her lip. She was wrestling with an answer. Eventually she held up a hand.

"Five other times?" he asked to make sure he was getting the correct meaning. She nodded. "And you drugged them every time?" She nodded again. "Tsk. Poor technique."

Her brows drew down and her features pinched, earning a smile from him.

The stable was lifeless when they reached it and the horses weren't let out for the day to wander in the field nearby because the dead complicated things and all hands were needed with the cattle. You couldn't release them to a cordoned section and disappear as you did in the past. You had to watch them in turns. Troy hadn't had the time to figure out their structure or how they did things but he surmised that it had to be similar to his own.

Maybe better.

Katie grabbed a blanket and a saddle and dumped them on the railing as she opened up the door and guided Fido out of his stall. He was living the life. Around him was clean water and a freshly stacked hay. He didn't appear to want for anything. Pity for him it was short-lived.

Troy patted his muzzle with his free hand, the other resting on the handle of the knife tucked into the top of his pocket. Katie laid the blanket across the horse's back and then struggled with the saddle.

It didn't take her long but he didn't help her, either.

When she was done, Troy checked her handiwork to make sure she'd buckled it up properly and they wouldn't fall off while riding, and gestured for her to get on. She hesitated and then did so, looking stiff and uncomfortable seated on top of him.

"You don't ride very often?" She shook her head. "Well, at least try to pretend that you want to. Smile."

The muscles in her face appeared to strain, as if she'd forgotten how, and overall the process looked fake.

"Forget it. Just get us out of here without making waves."

Troy removed the knife from his pocket, unrolled his sleeves and tucked it into the inside of his hand, fingers cupping the sharp edge to conceal it, arm relaxed against his body as they walked for the back of the estate.

The fencing looked exactly the same as the sides, only there was an obvious panel as you approached the back, when you knew what to look for, that was easily shifted and rolled and allowed you to exit undetected. The gateway to a lush spot he estimated they allowed the animals to visit frequently.

"Katie!" someone called as Troy tried to unlink the complex set of chains and locks. Troy didn't recognize him by name but he remembered seeing him last night. "Where are you going?"

"I-I thought I'd s-show Troy the f-field out back and w-where he can run his horse," she said, controlling the stutter, adding a smile that looked almost genuine.

He turned to Troy. "You need a key for that," he stated.

"You do?" Troy asked, meeting his gaze, smiling, feeling the girl's eyes on him before he gave her a look.

"I-I f-forgot."

Seemed a pretty big thing to forget. Only Troy didn't say that out loud.

"It's okay," the man announced with a chuckle and a passing frown, glancing between the two of them, moving to help Troy with the gate. Troy drew the arm cradling the knife closer, gaze glued to the girl as he stepped aside. The man took less than a minute to unwind the chains and to unlock the padlock.

"Your parents know you're doing this?"

She shook her head. "Y-you know what t-they're like. They'll w-worry."

"They have every right to do so, Katie."

"I-I know, Dave, I j-just…"

She glanced at Fido's back, fingers combing his mane and then looked at Troy, lingering with an intensity that was mildly suggestive to anyone that was stupid enough to believe it. Troy smiled a fraction wider at the man who looked no more than five or six years older than him.

"You look after her," Dave acknowledged. "And be back before sundown. If anything happens to her, you'll be on dump duty until you hit the afterlife."

"You got it," Troy retorted.

Troy winked at Katie, took the chains from Dave and guided the horse through the gate. He secured the chains again since Dave was still standing there, and slipped the lock into position without snapping it shut completely.

"Before sundown!" Dave mouthed as a goodbye, walking away to tend to whatever else he had to do.

"Good job," Troy praised once the man had disappeared and he was able to pull himself onto the saddle behind her. "Nice try with the gate though."

She shuddered against him. "I-I w-wasting t-trying—"

"Save it," he snapped, cutting her off, offering Fido a gentle tap of the heels to send him into a steady trot. "You do anything like that again and I'll not only paralyze you but I'll kill whoever gets in the way."

He didn't need a verbal response from her to know that the message was clear, it was written all over her body and in the way she was unable properly sync as they rode for the lake.

That wasn't exactly good news but it couldn't be helped. Alicia wouldn't have been able to lead them anywhere different had she been in her brother's shoes. There was one direction open and they had taken it.

Alicia wasn't able to sit down too long. Nerves got the best of her and soon she was back on her feet, pacing, eyeing the dirty windows for any sign of change out there.

"Is the ranch even safe if we somehow make it back there? Are they all in on it?"

She felt so stupid for having put even a sliver of trust into those friendly faces they had met there. Rosemary. Henry. Was this some sort of deal they had with the lake-people? To keep the peace?

She froze at the sound of a dog barking. No… dogs. Plural. Instinctively, she dropped to her haunches so to not be visible in the window, her gaze darting from Nick to the entrance to the back door they'd seen when disposing of the infected earlier.

"They're going to run us until we can't go any further," she murmured, some awful images of a fox-hunting documentary popping into her head. "Until we're too exhausted to continue."

Didn't mean they had the luxury to stop. She crawled to the wall and slowly raised herself enough to peek out the window looking out over the front of the clearing. Despite the barking that seemed to come from several directions, she couldn't see anyone approaching.

"Yeah, I'm already there," Nick confessed, leaning back in the chair. "I don't think I can do any more running. But I can distract them for you to run for the ranch."

Now it was her turn to look incredulous. "That's your self-destructive instincts talking," she murmured, continuing to watch the outside. "I'm not leaving without you, so you can slap that thought off your list of ideas."

Still no one in sight. The barking had quieted down as well, but she still couldn't be sure from which direction it had come.

Nick had to laugh. There wasn't much mirth in it, but he somehow couldn't help it. It was all funny in the most disastrous of ways.

"You can sue me for caring about you later," he chided, still smiling. "But before slapping it outta me, ask yourself, do you really wanna let them get you and do whatever they planned? We got no idea what it would be, but I would bet my life on it not being just a slit throat or a bullet for you. They don't draw a bath for you to just kill off, Alicia. I don't even wanna think about what that implies."

Did he think she hadn't thought of that, that it had somehow gone over her head and went beyond her understanding of human nature? She wasn't an idiot. She knew whatever those freaks had planned would be anything but a simple, easy death. But that didn't matter.

She moved to her brother, crouched down in front of his chair and took his free hand in hers, squeezing. "I'm. Not. Leaving. You," she said, making sure her words penetrated that thick, stubborn skull of his. "I love you."

It wasn't something they often told one another. It had always just been implied. Known. But he seemed to need a reminder.

The shrill sadness her words pierced him with almost stole his breath. Tears stung behind his eyes, but he didn't let them out.

Nick squeezed her hand, speaking softly: "There are things so much worse than death. I love you too much to let you go for it. The only chance we have is if you get to Troy. If they just wanted to kill us, they'd have done it already. There are rules to their crazy, and if they get to me, I won't die at once. You'll have time. I'll have time. If they get you – I don't know what will happen. I don't want you to find out."

Had the ranch been close by or had she known her way there, Alicia might have indulged her brother's need to protect her. But she would never make it in time, if she even made it there at all. The chances of her losing her way out in the forest were too great. And then everything would have been in vain anyway.

The barking started again. Closer this time.

She let go of Nick's hand and rose, her back against the wall as she looked out the window. It was too filthy to see anything out there with perfect clarity, but she would have spotted movement had there been any. So far, it was still quiet.

"No," she said in response to her brother's earlier plea. "No one gets left behind."

The dogs were going to find them sooner rather than later, he was certain. That creek was nothing serious for two dogs to search around and pick up the scent anew. Most of what Nick could count on was about ten minutes. Probably less.

"You're making a mistake," he reasoned desperately. "Crazy people like their rituals to be closer to the night or during. We got plenty of time before the sun sets. You can get to the mountains ridge over there, then move along it to the right, all the way, until you reach the ranch. I'm sure it's there. It's maybe not even a full hour on foot. They could still chase you, but you'd have a head start. Just get to Troy and those people, the parents – they don't know what's going on. They're not a part of it, I don't think they know. They'll help you. Us. Just go."

Déjà vu. It was just like the first night of when the world had gone to shit, when Nick had been a shivering wreck on the couch trying to battle his withdrawals until Mom could make it back with his "medicine". Alicia had intended to leave to check on Matt then, because he was sick and he was alone. And Nick had pleaded for her not to go, terrified, though she couldn't understand why at that moment in time.

Their roles were the same, but the request had flipped over. He was begging her to go now. And just like it had back then, his expectations made her furious. He would never leave her behind. Never. And it pissed her off he seemed to assume she would willingly do that to him.

"No, Nick!" she was shouting now, heat creeping up the back of her neck the angrier she became. "We either go together, or we stay and fight together. I'm not leaving you! Get that through your head."

Nick exhaled loudly, throwing his head back against the chair, shoving the annoyance away.

"How don't you get it, Lisha, the fucking stakes are not the same for you and I," he tried again, staring at her, willing that instinct of self-preservation of hers to kick into gear. "You and I are different kind of meat to them. Your price will be higher. Just please, let me TRY to help you avoid it. Please. It's not a guarantee. It's not a free ticket. It's just a chance. Let me give you a chance, so maybe we both get one."

He forced herself off the chair and spread his arms.

"I'll go with you, but I won't go all the way. I can't. But you have to. You have to try."

"How do you not get that if I leave you here and you die, I won't be able to live with myself?" she threw back at him, her face only softening slightly when he got to his feet and she saw how poorly he was doing.

Of course, her reasoning was the same as his, and they were stuck on the same kind of love that let neither of them step over it. Nick pulled her into a hug, kissed the side of her head. "I do get it, but you'd live knowing it was what I wanted most."

That wouldn't comfort her in the least, but she decided not to say that particular thought out loud. He'd already agreed to leave with her, and she didn't need to complicate it further. Nor did she have the time for it. She still leaned into his embrace when he wrapped his arms around her, her own closed around his waist. It was hard to let go knowing this could very well be the last time they ever hugged, but it had to be done.

She inhaled, staring at the ceiling a moment before her gaze drifted to the dead infected by the back door.

"Think his blood will mask our scent some from the dogs?"

He squeezed her tighter, then let go, observing the dead man on the floor. Then he pulled his knife out.

"Worth a try. We don't have time to waste."

They cut the body and started covering themselves in gore. They pulled the boots off and soaked them in the stinky blood and stomach juices. The corpse didn't have much to spare, so that was not in their favor. But they made most of what they had before slipping out and running for the ridge. The dogs were close, and they could hear the pursuers' voices. Nick wondered if any more joined yet.

They covered themselves in as much blood and slime as they could squeeze from the corpse, then slipped outside. They ran but their speed had greatly diminished, nothing compared to what it was earlier. The sound of the dogs and voices in the distance allowed them to push further than what they would normally have managed, but it still wasn't long before both of them seriously began to struggle again.

Alicia's hand locked around Nick's wrist, terrified he would somehow be snatched away from her during their clumsy escape, especially now the world around her became blurrier and harder to focus on under the burning sun.

They slowed down to almost a crawl when Alicia's hand clasped around his wrist, making him wince. The bruised trace of his previous heroics let him know it was still there.

"Come on," he wheezed, pushing himself to move.

They trotted between the trees, and then they could feel how the slope had started. That was the ridge. A bit farther ahead, they came across a big boulder surrounded by trees.

Nick leaned against it, bending to catch his breath. He tasted copper in his mouth and felt he could collapse any moment.

"You should go on," he told her when he could talk, and raised his arm showing the direction. "There, along the ridge, keep to the trees and rocks, you'll get to the forest and the ranch. If they get to here, I'll slow them down. If they won't, I'll follow you. Go, Lisha, make it all count. Please."

Her breath got stuck in her throat when they finally stopped, and she felt as though she couldn't get enough air in her lungs. Her feet were hurting, as well, her boots having chafed the skin at her heels for miles now.

She struggled, hands on her knees again, forcing herself to listen to Nick, eyeing the direction where he pointed, shaking her head until it hurt.

"I...can't...leave...you," she breathed, like it was a mantra nailed into the very root of her being. She clutched her side, looking around for options. Nick wouldn't make it much further, and to be honest, neither would she. But there weren't really any good places to hide here, not within view anyway. If they stayed and the lake-people successfully tracked them, they would find the Clarks easily.

Rubbing her hands across her face, she breathed a frustrated sigh, tears stinging her eyes. "How many bullets have you got left?"

Nick wasn't going to check, he didn't care. "About seven, maybe. If there were thirteen to begin with."

He looked back to where they could expect the chase to appear. None so far, but he could hear them in the distance.

"Just go, don't waste time, give us a chance, come on, Lisha, go. Please, just go. Get Troy. You'll save us both. Please."

When he didn't respond to her question, she yanked his gun away and handed him hers. There were still ten rounds left in her magazine, giving him a bigger chance of taking anyone down should they come at him.

She pulled him on for a one-armed hug, trying hard not to cry as she whispered: "I'll come back for you. Don't let them hurt you. Shoot to kill."

It was roughly the same he had urged her to do before they escaped the trailer earlier.

Then Alicia turned and forced herself to jog along the side of the ridge, as quickly as she could manage without tripping over her own feet. She didn't turn around to look at him. Couldn't. She'd lose her nerve and return instantly if she did.

But she couldn't fight the feeling of wrongness lodged in her chest as she ran. Everything about this was wrong. It felt as though she had just pulled the trigger on Nick herself.